ten days of march

taught AB the HOT TO GO dance, which we then did in the living room before sunset, she expressed concern about the G like I don't know which way to go, either way I say, either way everyone gets the idea

laughed aloud reading M___'s play with an iced mocha at the grassy knoll Sunday morning, discussed it in the dive bar over mozzarella sticks in the afternoon -- extra ranch, what she struggles with is my biggest strength, she keeps saying ohmygod this is so helpful you have no idea, but I do have an idea because what she can do is be hilarious without trying or even knowing what it means, and what I do is obsess about what everything means, I show her all the themes she's already written and which patterns could be heightened to highlight what, it's all already there I keep repeating, what do you really think I keep asking, it has a shape she says as we scootch sideways from the semi-circle booth

dancing to "Maroon" in the movie theatre bathroom before seeing Mickey17, like the old days

great s'more bar with S on a Tuesday morning, I typically use social mornings to co-write with friends, always be writing, always be producing -- maybe I'd be less of a crone if I just had a fun coffee once in a while my god

free trip to Disneyland from J -- started with Indiana Jones ended with the cold ferris wheel, in the middle there was a jalapeño stuffed pretzel, Pirates, the Lamplighter patio, the orange mist of Soarin', and I took a Mickey rice krispie home with me (in one of the bright blue bags with the castle on it)

five current bites for my play: a young LA indie producer for this summer she met me wearing a little work outfit and a professional persona I was so preoccupied with the rain I forgot my whole purse at home and had to venmo her for brussel sprouts, workshop in DC at a regional theatre next fall, add a high-powered manager for an NYC world premiere question mark when, two college kids at a local university, small collective of 20somethings who do work in an ugly corporate room

climate theatre project approved by major activist group, will pursue without funding

Puhg buys my coffee on International Women's Day, a kids' quesadilla after a 7-hour non-stop writing session

mega corporation has offered me a new commercial contract

my horoscope said "bookstores" and then I had just about 45 minutes to kill, so I walked to the bookstore -- my books have sold out twice, I creep on the restock

Puhg's aunt is going to die this time, staying on chemo until the graduation party for her youngest grandchild -- thinking about it every few steps

Sweet Potato got some carrot slices last night, she was in a mood -- one night she was a little goofball, hiding in my hoodie hood for quite some time

can't wrap my head around how fast it's happening, how a student protester was detained illegally, how I post one Instagram story about it, get a notification the app is now using facial recognition in relation to my account

LA and I do music improv at the cutest little show in town, three friends come which is just so sweet and unheard of for 8 PM on a Wednesday, we open with this song about marshmallows happily enjoying the marshmallow world (where everything is made of marshmallows) until they realize they eat marshmallows and they are marshmallows (!), their cheery little tune becomes darker and deadlier until they vow to just not think about it! The hard part of two-prov is not getting a few little minutes on the sidelines to think of initiations for the next scene, I want to bring cannibals back into the finale but never have enough time to sort out the thoughts...Donner party, snow...marshmallows... LA starts a finale about a dog show, so that's what we do and it's fine -- the next day, on a walk, it all snaps into place -- the finale should have been us in a snowstorm after a plane crash, we realize we must eat our friends but we tell one another we're not cannibals, we're just marshmallows in the marshmallow world...

queer writers' group anniversary coffee. I made hasty purple construction paper membership cards. Group name est. 2019, a little quip on the back and a shiny heart sticker. Lan calls me right as I pull into my parking spot, says he's thinking of getting his laminated, he asks if I'm available to read something -- sure I say (I'm not) I ask what he's looking for, in terms of feedback, that's what I'm hoping you can tell me about he says the shape he says

Giddy Giddy Ghosts

 At Disneyland a few weeks ago I saw a display of Mickeys and felt a nostalgic breeze. Something I'd known before I knew most things. Stacked stuffed Mickeys. I've known the stacked stuffed Mickeys three decades, can you/I believe? I had a VHS of a singalong video, Disney songs over short almost music videos of the park. Genius idea. Basically a thirty-minute commercial I rewatched again and again.

Two nights ago I couldn't sleep. I found the "tape" on YouTube. Just as I remembered and yet I didn't remember most. I think I fast forwarded big chunks, in hindsight. Yes, I think I did. I liked the Mainstreet song and Goofy sweeping and then there's a bunch of Adventureland bits that bothered me. "Follow the Leader" and Tom Sawyer's island. I scrubbed through the video just as I did on the brown beanbag in the Midwestern summer and then ah ah yes. Finally, the best part, the "Giddy Giddy Ghosts" segment. Captain Hook and a terrifying fox creeping around the Haunted Mansion. Yes, yes, yes. I felt my pupils dilate all the same. Mm the horror, mm the spooks.

I did something I assuredly never did as a child: watched all the credits. Who made this funny little project? The names came up so 1990 colorful and tilted. I wondered if there had been a discussion about if randomly shoving in a horror piece was really appropriate for the rest of the mood. Or did no one care what was going on in those stupid little side projects when The Lion King was in pre-production? "This will scare kids," I imagine someone saying, having no idea it would be my favorite part for ever and ever.

Heresick

Tomorrow I fly back to the Midwest for holidaze. I am looking forward to seeing my family, but I do not want to leave.

I love Arizona: pink skies, cacti, mountains, boys outside the Circle K glugging plastic gallons of water, My Friends, Sunday improv in the design building, Tuesday improv on the library lawn, students who say "I'm not just saying this--," the click of my bedroom door closing, my cushy bed, fresco bean burritos, the stone bus stop, the rainbowed aisles of Mexican soda, my poster of Peeta. When I have to leave here, I feel sick and sad like it's the last night of summer camp.

Some people will never experience certain kinds of love in their lives. I will probably never "get" that hardcore sportsfan-die-hard-my-blood-runs (insert color). I can't imagine what it's like to be an only child and have that sibling connection missing from your experience. The first time romance is a true possibility something is exposed to you, from you. And me? I love the place I live so fiercely, that it pains me to take a vacation.

Ironically, this is not AZ. This is Disney's version of AZ in Cars Land. Hill and me this weekend.

So I went to Arizona to escape my blues.
That paradise bird sang and my life was never ever the same.
Arizona, Arizona you were good to me.

It's a Small, Small, World

"You'll remember that so much more than the grading you should have been doing."--Heart, after I told him I went to Disneyland in the middle of finals.

Two weeks ago Hill texted me, "But what if you went to Disneyland next Friday?" and although a teeny part of my brain chirped "Please do not do that" I could not stop my fingers from racing "YES YES YES" because it's Disneyland at Christmas.

Disneyland is corporate America at it's best, over-priced, sentimental, and subtly racist at every turn, but guess WHAT? I love it. I had The Most Fun. It was exceedingly refreshing to spend a few days with people I don't know very well, and as cliche as it sounds, Disney makes me happy. It's overpriced because there is magic to be made--or at least synthesized. I am in debt to that magic. Schoolwork and logistics don't seem important on Space Mountain. There are no personal offenses to consider in the Nightmare Before Christmas Haunted Mansion.

The group right after It's a Small World lit on up.

At about 6 PM I started feeling ill. At 7:30 I was vomiting my guts out. Goodbye burrito from Downtown Disney. Farewell, Dole whip. Sayonara, bread bowl from California Adventure. I really wanted to push through and finish out the night, but I just couldn't. I needed to be thankful for the good I had already received. Jungle Cruise and Indy and Cars, oh my. I stoically bid everyone goodnight and walked, shaking, back to the hotel alone. I counted blessings in the dark on my pull-out until I fell asleep. In an hour I was awoken by fireworks, and everything was perfect and beautiful. Stomach still, head relieved. I kicked on my shoes in joy and ran to the balcony! The sky show was not only fantastic kiddy excitement with mouse ears, it was a celebration of my well-being. I jogged back to the park, where everyone was spilling out with throbbing feet. I was not phased by the hoards of tired tourists shoving on the faux main street of yesteryear. I was in love with everyone--I had my health.

I walked to up to this group of friends I only kind of know nursing aching backs in Tomorrowland, and they cheered for me. "You rallied!" said Spiff. We took a ride with C-3PO. All were exhausted and ready to call it at 11:15. I could not! Too much glee. I told them to leave, but I was going on Peter Pan. Reluctantly, one by one, they all joined me in line. The perfect end to a perfect day--flying over London, fighting pirates, think happy thoughts.

Photo by Hill.

Think happy thoughts.