I definitely felt the compulsion to write the last couple of days, but it was impossible. I am in a quandry as well, because so many interesting things are happening, which I want to write about, and yet I don't know how to preserve these memories in a secure manner. I could write on a public blog, but in my mind, anything written on a computer has the potential for being read by the public. I don't want to write freehand because my books have been stolen before. So, I don't know.
I got a new cell phone. I just knew I would never see the other one again and it has not turned up.
I'm listening to Frente's Bizarre Love Triangle. I really think I may end up in NYC eventually, if not another country. I feel I am supposed to be in D.C. now, and who knows how long, but the artist in me needs a stronger base--or host country. I was told recently D.C. is about power and NY is about money. He said money has its own kind of power, but the two are different. And the art is different. People are willing to invest in, and are slightly more interested in art, in NY. He said theatre in D.C. is fairly strong, and I do think the jazz scene isn't bad. But it's not a place where many screenwriters and film people are being productive, or where small groups are gathering to discuss lit and their most recent writings. Something about the music is missing too, I think. I was told, by another person, that there are some incredibly talented individuals in this town, but that the scene just isn't very well organized. Which doesn't seem odd, really, since artists don't lean towards administration, usually, and organization, but anyway...And then, I was in a taxi and the cab driver, who offered to take me in a nice limo cab for the same price as a regular taxi, said to me, "You need to find your gang in NYC." He's from NY and lives here with his wife from D.C., but, without my saying very much, he emphasized how he thought I would be happier or have better opportunities to make money in NYC. Oh, and it's been said D.C. is a "government town" and very conservative as a result. Which I sort of agree with. It's not conservative under the covers, but maybe in NYC, people don't mind being flashier and more liberal.
I still like D.C., and especially when I walk through the gay part of town, and the international section, the vibe changes and lifts a little bit. I also like the political nature of D.C. and haven't given up on getting involved more. I'm meeting a lot of journalists, whom I won't name, but very interesting people who have even been foreign correspondents and have a broad base of knowledge. I was also contacted to begin working with my non-profit StoptheWaronDrugs so it will be good to get this rolling, once I'm not sick.
I've been a little under the weather with bronchitis or something.
If anyone reads my blog and sees me in town today, I have a disclaimer to make. I do not usually wear such short dresses! I am staying with a girlfriend and didn't have anything to wear after working until 12 p.m. last night (except work clothes) so she loaned me a dress that fits, but it's very short. So short, I went back to ask her if she had a pair of short I could wear under it. It was pretty much the only things which would fit me so I'm wearing it. It's hot outside today, at least. I really don't like my legs very well. When I ran all the time, they looked good, but now, well, I woke up and realized a couple of things after getting in the hit and run: my knee isn't okay right now, and I am getting fat. Or fatter. This is a terrible combination because how will I lose the weight now that I can't run? I noticed some men noticing and smirking, and others looking with appreciation or ogling, which is embarressing. I look like I should have a tennis racket in my hand. It's a very short, grey, polo dress, plain, and I'm wearing tennis shoes with it.
I did walk quite a ways this morning, on purpose. For at least 45 minutes. I refused to take a taxi or the Metro. And I walked past the zoo! It's free here and it looked so peaceful, I made note of the times it's open because I think the zoo will be one of the first things I visit in D.C. I haven't been to any of the museums yet! But I want to see some art, and museums, and I want to go to the zoo. Zoo first.
I met someone who has a slighty different occupation the other day. I am not sure he is who he said he was. On one hand, everything added up. Even his clothing and the kind of car he drove. Everything except his nails. I noticed his nails and it didn't seem, to me, that someone who was really a _______________________ would have his cuticles cut and nails buffed. Hmm, but now that I think about it, he did allow me to look into his glovebox and the contents added up there. And how would he know I would be looking there?
I am absolutely dying to write about this last thing, this man I met, but I'm torn. I have certain policies and principles, to not expose certain people, but on the other hand, it's newsworthy in its own way. I mean, I don't write "news" but I write about life, and this is certaintly a complex and noteworthy interaction. I need to think about it. Hmmm...I'm wondering how I could somehow get around my policy if I am absolutely careful to mix things up enough so he cannot be identified or exposed, but our interaction could be written about. Hmm. As I deliberate, I looked out the window and saw the sign in a store window: "Psychic". Maybe I should have some fun to go to the psychic (if it's not much) and allow myself time to decide. Which reminds me, I don't know anything about chakras, and am not into it really, but I went into the Aveda store this morning (I adore Aveda!) looking for a light fragrance. They didn't have much, being a very small store. But they had a selection of chakra fragrances, 1-7. The woman told me you're supposed to look at the photo on the cards laid out on the table, or the drawing rather, and select the drawing which appeals to you most, and this is the one which is supposed to represent you or bring you into balance. I chose chakra 7, which was called "the crown chakra" and it is to bring one wisdom and communion with the universe. So I tested it, to see if this was really the one I preferred, and it was! I sniffed out the others and I still liked #7 best. Sort of an anise seed scent that I like. Clarifying.
Okay, I skipped the psychic and went to the guitar store instead, and met some people who are musicians. Good move, I think. I also think I can write about this man I met, I'll just mix it up enough. He was a priest. At least that's what he said--a Roman Catholic priest. I won't give details, but a good looking one at that. No one would have guessed. But I wondered about the buffed manicured nails. Crappy car, check. And clean and short nails I understand, but do priests get manicures these days? I don't know. Mabye they cut their own cuticles. Well, let me say, after I first posted this, about deliberating whether or not to write this, or about our interaction, a tall dark haired young man (white, looked American or European, slender) appeared about 15 minutes later and sat next to me, as I was leaving, and he looked at me like he knew me, and was wearing a gold medalion necklace beneath his shirt. So maybe people did know, or it's true, and their watching? or, he's not really a priest? I wouldn't know. I have to go work soon so this has to be short.
By the way, I walked out of Aveda, and saw this man. Like-like at first sight. He was walking with a man who was speaking a middle eastern language. I sort of think Iranian, but could have been Arabic. The guy who was talking was older and the younger guy was very, very, tall, black hair, very, very, thin (I don't know why he was still appealing, but just was) and wore a long sleeve shirt (blue?) and black pants and shoes. Sort of longer hair on top but still short. He looked at me, with this LOOK. Sort of shy and a smile, just nice. Wish I could have met him.
Okay, about the priest, who had all these different foreign accents...He wanted to take me to the Spy Museum. Which I didn't respond to, and wish I had, because what fun that would have been! To go there with a priest? He and I talked about how priests would be good spies because people give them confessions and trust them with information, and how we knew how, for example, Russia used spies with covers as priests, who were actually NOT priests at all, or really religious or whatever, but just spies, who became priests. Now I would say that is deep, deep, deep undercover.
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