It's over!

Today was the workshop at City Garage. Big deal for me up until it was over. How is it that it worked out that way? All those nerves for ten minutes. I played okay - kinda slopped my way through a few moments of the hard stuff, but I'm not sure anybody noticed. I did play one really hard section just perfectly, and actually thought to myself, "well, at least that was perfect." I don't know that I usually have that much space in my head for those kinds of thoughts while I'm playing something. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. That moment came rather early on; the rest of the performance seemed a little hazier.

(Don't get me wrong: I'm not under the illusion that perfection is the goal. Oh, no: I'm much too lazy for that kind of delusional thinking.)

Anyway, we did it, it's over, and I didn't start coughing uncontrollably during it or fall down or split my gorgeous dress or totally fuck up, and people seemed pleased with it, so there. It's done.

After our little bit (we were the "curtain raiser" or whatever that phrase is), Bo came on stage (I helped him out with lights and sound) and did "The Fetishist," by Michel Tournier. He was amazing, and I wish I could climb in my time machine and take you all back to 1999 so you could buy a ticket and see him do it at City Garage, the first time around. This time was pretty darn special, though, so maybe it's just as well I haven't gotten the time machine quite up to, you know, traveling through time just yet.

After all the festivities, I had to wait for him to help clean the theater (I suppose I could've stayed and helped, but no one seemed to mind me slipping away). I walked out to the promenade. It was a gorgeous day in Santa Monica, and I walked around to The Gap (stocked up on new v-neck t-shirts for the summer, and a little dress I might return) and Anthropologie (I pretty much wanted everything, including a $158 pair of jeans, which, when I looked at the price tag, made me snort. I snorted in Anthropologie over a price tag!) and Sephora, where I sampled all the Murad products until it was time to go home.

Then I came home, and fell asleep on the couch while watching Rick Steves' travel show. He was in Brussels, and showed (I saw this before I fell asleep) the Magritte museum. My dream was of headless blue women and strange white dog-people. When I woke up, I knew I needed Mexican food to clear my head. It worked.

This is the dress I got, except mine is a very pretty French blue instead of gray flowers.

I wish I had this chick's hair. And legs.