Re-Defined Life

I Know Your Tricks, Mister!

This morning I am sitting in a coffee shop, listening to the steady grind of the esspresso machine and admiring the droves of interesting people walking by. I always wonder what kind of people are around during the day--who isn't working? Well, there's me. There's a super-cute student couple eating bagels and smiling at eachother. There's an older gentleman, clearly doing work on his impressive iBook. And a plethora of 30somethings, whom I assume are also working diligently on those laptops. Maybe designers. Maybe writers. Maybe event planners. Who knows.

But I digress. Yesterday was a crazy day. It reminded me of why I came here, made me fall even more desperately in love with Denver, and reminded me why the book I am writing is going to be based off my life.

My life is too weird not to be fiction. Like that Will Ferell (sp?) movie, which I really enjoyed.

Again, I digress.

David Sedaris, as expected, was amazing. And totally worth that 30$ that I didn't have at the time (oh, but now I got paid, as previously mentioned. And it covered that, if nothing else). Is it tacky to continue mentioning that elusive freelance paycheck from Monday? Even though I have been waiting six weeks for it? Okay, enough about that then.

So David Sedaris. Every time I read him I think of my David (if you are confused by them having the same name, it may help you to know that my David's name is pronounced the Spanish way and David Sedaris is pronounced the American way). And listening to him was no different. He has an odd voice, at first, but then somehow soothing.

I justified my ticket purchase by telling myself that it was educational. I am (someday) going to publish a book and there are certain authors whose style and tone I want to learn from. David Sedaris is one of them. And, after attending his reading last night, I am more clear on why. I like books that read better aloud. I like simple sentence structures. Certain rythms. Hearing David read aloud made so much sense to me. The stories took on a new life in the dryness of the presentation. I'm paying close attention. Just you wait and see when (someday) my book makes its debut.

He read several stories just published and about to be published, and a large excerpt of one story from his new book (due out next June) about his crazy neighbor Helen in New York. Having lived downtown myself, I could understand his lovehate for his true New York neighbor. And I'll definately be buying that book.

My favorite part of his presentation was the very end. He took out his personal journal, whose entries are much much shorter than his stories, and read to us about Japan, London, and on. The short observations about Japanese culture and the anecdotes about being in the public showers when someone asked him "hey, are you David Sedaris?" were the most riotous part of the night for me. If I had a full bladder I probably would have peed myself.

After the presentation, I headed to the Mercury Cafe, which is the place to be in Denver if you swing dance, and met up with Holly (new friend whose couch I am currently surfing) and David (yes, I know, another one. American spelling. Not famous author) who is in town from L.A. from a conference and met Holly via internet.

I love swing dancing, and, even though I had passed out earlier in the day (a story for another time, I'm afraid), last night was no exception. In fact, I particularly love swinging in Denver for one of the same reasons I love Denver in general: there are 25% more men than women here.

At one point, after spending a couple dances teaching David how to east coast, I asked a brown eyed boy to dance. Though the song was moderately fast, he decided that we were going to blues dance. For those of you who don't know: blues dancing is the slowest and sexiest of swing dances. Leg to leg and hip to hip we go.

During the dance he kept positioning me close to his face and I kept my face averted away. It was an odd arrangement, and I'm sure it looked even odder than it felt. But, despite the oddity of it, I didn't expect what came next.

The dance was ending, the expected spin began, the one that would end with his hands on my back, leaning me into a dip. And then, he leaned down and kissed me on the lips.

I was too shocked to react. I didn't kiss him back and I didn't punch him in the face. I merely started laughing directly into his mouth.

He looked dissappointed, lifted me up, and I thanked him for the dance. He held onto me for a minute, but I put my hand in front of my face and he let go.

A short time later he asked me to dance again. And I said yes.

Again it was blues dancing and again, as the music came to its close, the spin and the dip were executed perfectly. This time I put a finger a few inches in front of my mouth, waving it back and forth, and announced quietly, "I know your tricks, mister."

And so, after four or five years of swing dancing, I had my first sneak attack kiss. And laughed in someone's mouth.

You know.

Gigi

Publication: No Longer Pending

I have a new favorite thing. Number one on my prior list. Absolutely number one. Better than kayaking. Better than kissing. Better than Bandit (sorry buddy) the crazy ass schnauzer.

And that thing is called:
PUBLICATION.

Ostello De Chianti
Hostel Baccarat
Ostello Tramonti
Chelsea Spot Hostel
Ostello Torino
Hotel Sampaoli

I feel so full. And alive.

Three more publications pending. Three more paychecks to be had.

Gigi

Riotous, Ridiculous, Unusual Nights

Ever since I began the fated JobSearch I've found my email account bulging with NewMail. Apparrently I can and should "work from home and make millions!" all the while sending money to poor African princes who have been deposed and depend on my christian charity. Of course, I also need to enlarge my manhood (sigh of relief on those emails: clearly, that's 1. something that applies to me and 2. the thing that keeps me awake worrying at night) and get a "0% interest for two years!" credit card and give all my login information to Amazon.com over and over again.

My relief at knowing that my manhood can be adored by thousands of women, my debt can be interest-free for six months, I can make $5000 a month working for 2 hours a day, and that so many people want to give me a second mortgage on my house is intense. Phew. That's all I can say: phew.

Yesterday I kept my self-made promise not to check my email or JobSearch. It was the first day I had literally done nothing, not even email someone or follow-up call or check out Craigslist's job board. And I'm quite proud of the progress this means for my workaholism. Is it sad to continue in a trend of workaholism without a job? Hmm. I guess that's a true definition of the problem of an "aholism" anyway.

Last night we met the KB family and BT's new Peruvian Trainer for drinks and dinner at Peaceful Henry's fine dining restaurant in Guffey, Colorado.

Peaceful Henry's is named because of a man named Henry who lived in Guffey years and years and who knows how many years ago. He was upset because his log cabin was too cold. The air was leaking in. And, so he hired some professionals to block up all the gaps between the logs and keep the heat in his cabin. Once they did days and days and who knows how many days went by before poor peaceful Henry was found dead inside the cabin. Turns out he heated the cabin with a gas stove of some sort and, in plugging up all the holes, had gassed himself to death.

So they named a restaurant after him, naturally.

The restaurant, though, has moderately good food and is cozy feeling. Last night being particularly cozy since the whole town showed up to hear the local western folk band sing "I'll Love You Til' There's Not a Cow in Texas" and a song about a yellow horse being a man's friend which left 30% of the Guffey audience in tears.

I enjoyed myself immensely. Really, you would too if you spent the evening watching a man with a handlebar mustache sing "She's a rose with no room to grow/ She's a refuge where nobody goes" to a roomful of retired ranchers while you ate alfredo noodles and spicy rolls and listened to Dan regale you with tales of his stripper ex-girlfriend. I love nights like that: riotous, ridiculous, unusual nights.

Gigi

Unemployment Doesn’t Mean You Work Less

Today began in a very discouraging mode. I called the HR girl at a big advertising firm in Denver, returning her call in regards to my resume, and was discounted because I am interested in more than one area of the firm. I find this happens unfortunately often. People just don't seem to believe that I love writing and design equally well. They take my willingness to do either as an act of desperation or as a lack of decisiveness. Truly, though, I AM decisive. I am decisive enough to quit my job, go to Europe, move to Denver, and know that I want to work in either writing or design. What law says I have to like one better than the other?

Then I proceeded to call/call back four other people/companies, each time ending up in voicemail. While slightly less discouraging, being in VoiceMailLand isn't quite what I'm after. In particular I was hoping I would reach Fred from my Monday interview. I really want that job.

The day perked up toward lunch, though, with a long phone conversation with David (who never fails to make me laugh) and a series of check marks on my long to-do list. I always feel better when I'm productive. No matter what goes on around me. The check marks bring out the sunshine.

And, if nothing else, at least next week I will be in Denver. Laughing at David Sedaris and crossing my fingers that he'll end up at the same restaurant that I do after the show. Lindy hopping in the Mercury Cafe--which apparrently is the Swing venue in Denver. Meeting with other graphic designers in the Denver area in hopes that 1)I will make friends with the Creative Young of my new city and 2)that perhaps a job contact will come out of the whole thing.

The startup for my new blog (not replacing this one. Don't cry) is scheduled for next week as well. So stay tuned for news on that. The blog is thematic and is going to take some legwork, but I'm excited for the possibilities it contains.

So, as they say, stay tuned.

Also, have I mentioned that I have nine articles pending publication (and pending payment. sigh.) currently? I'm not sure when the process of proofing and approving them will be over (it seems the staff over there are rather busy at present), but I will let you know once those are up and running.

Working hard at getting myself out there,

Gigi

Everything Is My Favorite

The photo above is compliments of Dave. Me in Venice watching the sunset. (See, I'm photogenic if people know what they're doing!)

Today I am in a rather silly and creative mood. I spent my morning making templates for the new website I am about to launch (shh, its a secret) and writing up my formula and format for it, as if it were a magazine. I find that the same kind of business plan I put together for my 32-page magazine translates well into a business plan for said website. I mean, obviously, not the same exact thing, but using the same questions and the same template for the business plan. And, when I talk about the business plan, I don't mean that I am submitting to anyone. I am just writing it out for my own use. So that I don't stray too far off the beaten path of WebsiteGoals.

A little while ago, while being silly and creative, as mentioned above, I made a list for MV. A list of Gigi's Favorite Things In Life. And, since I amused myself so greatly by my answers, I thought I'd share. (And please note I am excluding people so as not to hurt anyone's feelings. Love, Gg)

Gigi's Favorite Things In Life:
(Not including people. Just things.)

1. Kayaking on the ocean
2. Being kissed
3. Swing Dancing till I cannot swing anymore
4. MV's reactions to things (this is not a person, it is the REACTIONS)
5. Playing piano in a dim room, preferably with candles
6. naps. long naps. sleep in general. sleeping in.
7. Guacamole & Champagne (not always together)
8. WordsWithoutSpacesBetweenThem
9. Made Up Verbiosity
10. Writing stuff/creating stuff/photographing stuff
11. Linguistics (not to be confused with linguini)
12. Italian things (ex. men, food, scenery. Just not trains)
13. Mirrors
14. Crazy-ass Schnauzers who like to steal people's underpants and eat carpet fuzz
15. Stand up comedy. Or sit down comedy. Really any type.

And that is what I will leave you with today.

Leave some comments, will ya? Do you want me back or not?

Gigi

P.S. The only time I ever lost a bet was when I bet that I could go two weeks without saying that something was my "favorite". I lasted two days.

Something Real Every Day

It's been a long time since I've written here. Almost as long since I've even looked at the site. I was moving on in favor of being private and in favor of selling my writing--rather than sharing this perfect (I know, you agree) skill with everyone for free on xanga. But then I realized that my lack of xanga was hurting more than helping.

I had a professor at TCC, before I moved on to SU, named Thiele. He was quirky, native american, and a good writer. And, even though I was only 16 at the time, so much of what he said has stuck with me through the years. The biggest things were these:

1. write what you know
&
2. write every day

I took that advice to heart and started my online journaling. First I was at deardiary.net (the blog is still sitting there dormant, taking up space at missionchic.deardiary.net), where three years or so into my blogging I was one of the top ten bloggers on the site. The blog being my journey through christianity and growing up and all the things within the world that were upsetting and nonsensical to me.

Slowly, as I changed, I wrote less and the blog's popularity faded. By then I had been blogging for four years or so.

I didn't quit blogging then; I couldn't. It had become habit and comfort and essential to my intellectual life. But I was changing and my college friends, as is expected I suppose, lent their influence to me as I chose to move to a blogging site that they used: xanga.com.

My xanga blog never hit the top ten that I know of, but I don't think xanga is well-suited for that or even has that, really. And I never minded. I was still getting hundreds of hits a day and still writing out my thoughts so that they weren't just meaninglessly contained within my own head. Because every thought, good or bad, can change a person's life. Or so I have always believed. And so I blogged here.

And then, in a life altering move, I quit my job, I rented my apartment, and I left New York City in a blur of color. It only took a few months to leave everything behind. My life was in boxes and bags wheeled across the country on a freight truck. My necessities were strapped to my back. And I was determined that my life was going to change. So I left for Europe and then Colorado. And, with my lifechange, came another blog change.

This time, in changing, there were people whose readership of my blog unnerved me. I didn't want them to still have an emotional part of me, and allowing them to continue reading my blog would have still given them some ownership--or so I believed. So I moved to http://gypsiology.blogspot.com and only told a handful of readers. Sneaky. Sneaky. And perhaps a little mean.

Once I'd migrated to blogspot I left for EU and my entries were sporadic. I wrote occasionally outrageous stories and then faded away and stopped writing altogether. When I reached CO I wrote a halfhearted entry or two, but nothing close to my usual wpd output.

During that time, I found the good and the bad in my lack of journaling. I wrote nine professional accomodation reviews (publication currently pending) and about a thousand (I know, that's exaggerating--it was probably only 999) inquiry letters, please-hire-me letters, thank-you letters, and nice-to-meet-you letters. Still writing every day, but desperate to write something real. Maybe to write something that didn't have to be 100% grammatically correct. Something that I could leave sentance fragments in. Or misspell sentence. Something about something.

And so I have returned. My return to blogging is marked by the desire to write something every day, as Mr. Thiele suggested. And, not only that, but to write something real every day.

Now, I turn to you, the readers (those of you who are still left after my exodus and re-exodus) to ask which site you prefer. I'm not sure whether to continue on with blogger or xanga. Blogger seeming to be a fantastic choice due to its setup, but xanga being like an old friend that I can return to.

What do you think?

Gigi

Venice By Twilight