Closed Mic

I tried to go to an open mic on Friday night to read a poem that is a synthesis of part of the Black's Beach part of the 07 Christmas Letter. But the host of the event was sick and they couldn't find a replacement so it was me and a pair of odd-ball lesbians shootin the shit in the parkinglot of the lesbian owned sex shop in San Diego, The Rubber Rose that was hosting the event. In the end, the shit shooting was possibly more fun than the reading would have been...and i still got the benefit of preparing my poem (thanks ivano for listening to it 20 times and giving me amazing feedback. I had no idea you were such a performer at heart...but what is teaching a 200 person lecture about a relatively dry subject if it is not performing?) anyway...the friday evening turned out nicely in the end. But i'm bummed that I have to be typing into a computer with REM's "losing my religion" on repeat to tell u this story. I'm in one of those why-do-we-all-live-so-far-away-from-each-other moods. Why were none of my friends at my yoga class tonight,for instance? (although you're glad you missed my mushroom and barley soup i made on thursday night. it was okay the first night and really nasty for lunch a couple of days later. too much dill and parsnip!)