Emotional Signaling

Emotional signaling. That's where I eventually got to on last night's research and this afternoon's outing. The thing I was trying to identify is called emotional signaling and that's not really the problem. The problem is me, actually.

Last night I was supposed to go to this show, and I was making a dress to wear for it to go with my gold Nikes and everything was copacetic until the dress didn't get done just right and my hair wasn't as springy as I wanted it to be and I got 2 really fucked up text messages and I just said fuck it.

Trisha went in my stead. She's so tiny and still big enough for both of us. She even hung with my little bro for the night. He's a golden one. But that's another story entirely.

Today she insisted that we hang out. We were gonna see a movie. I couldn't get it together to sit in one place for that long. We went to a cafe. She brought a dog. The day was completely different and just what I needed.

That. And a muse. I used to be my own muse, you see. Minuesque* in little custom jumpsuits and always available for testing. Right now I just don't want to make anything for me. I feel like I'm in an in-between state.



Want to know something funny? Back when I was making stuff a few years ago I didn't have a dress form and I thought I was bigger than I was, so none of it fit me. It was all just a size too big. I found a load of that crap today while I was going through my fabric and tried it on again. It fit like gloves. Amazing a little, ya?

Still. No need to make clothes for this version of me, the unhappy times. Nothing too complicated. Simple little dresses that make me feel like Mary Tyler Moore or a Flashdance extra, you know?

I need a real muse, though. Someone willing to try the prototypes while I am not the prototype. Someone whose shape inspires me and is around. A living doll.

Or a faerie.

Today it took some strong words from Trisha's little self and an impossibly novel walk down a street named after her to get me back on firm earth again. She reminded me of a few things. Pointed out that artificial cliff I've been shading in daily for the past few weeks as everything I thought was clear kinda got foggy and vice versa.

This time. This time is a lot to deal with. But fucking a. At least it's MY TIME now, dude.

Time to make it happen, captain.





Tonight I finished the dress, I have to get the words on it then I'll show you where I ended up. After that it's a turquoise mini skirt for the birthday girl.

Oh and on a lighter note?

Pop culturally, I am finally understanding The Boondocks - I think it took the graphic novel reading to help me get it. Now I do. I'm sprung.

And I never thought I'd sign off on a black man's version of Jackass cause I thought Jackass was possibly the dumbest show ever on television but um.

I like Loiter Squad. It's silly. And 15 minutes. And those boys are cute. I want to make them hot chocolate with Courvoisier in it. Yum.

I'm going to be okay with losing shoes in plants but I think I might just give the cat a name. We'll see.

Night.


*yes i made that word up and it's not quite right but i'll refine it until it is