Work on Saturday

It is never cool when you have to work on a Saturday, especially early in the morning. I remember the years of Saturdays as market days, packing up the battered Bobby Sue the Subaru, filling her to the brim with fashion and mannequin parts and the old tent with the clouds that Andi Bird painted, and all those endless folding racks...

Today I feel vague and sip my coffee (creamed & sugared) and enjoy the taste of last night in my mind. Despite the drama in my crowded subway car between the atrociously rude and confrontational woman and her side-kick, the all-out yelling and cursing match that ensues. Eventually at my home base stop the scene involves a cop and some MTA police briefly. At this point I see a neighborhood friend with her beautiful man-cub who needs momma to carry him after such a trying day, and I abandon the drama makers. I offer to carry her back pack but she's a strong lady and only lets me walk her home in the dusk as she bears the weight of the child and their baggage. But Divine won't let me kiss his cheek goodbye. Maybe next time.

Then I head over to the studio tower to find my friends' holiday designer sale. Miss Saudia my designer/performer belle gives me a lovely pair of earrings, one of which I wear in my one pierced ear, the other I pocket to give to Digitelle as a present. And mama Cara's birthday gift is a huge gorgeous transparent heart, she ties it around my neck with a rubber chord and it rests perfectly on my breast plate, like all things she gives me. I also am fawned over by the beloved posse; Taj literally jumping and licking at me desperately, Flower keeping underfoot or nearby, and TenBucks mostly sulking but finally saying hello.

New Designer with the label Barbarian, and I speak with her for quite a while it seems, soaking in the energy of just starting out, the joy and excitement for her. Her dresses especially are truly beautiful, hand-painted silk... And I hope to myself that perhaps in some way I can help, one day soon or far away, and I can watch this flower grow...

Stop at DumbA next, the home away from home that I haven't frequented frequently at all as of late. It still feels like home, especially to embrace my Star Theory, to see the girls all so pretty laid out in the main room in the dark editing through absolutely gorgeous photos on the glowing screen of a Mac powerbook. We eat candy and then I need to go get home for my Final Cut Pro lesson with my little Paper Tiger. But we never get to the lesson.

Back at home in the crime lab. Next thing we all know the six of us have been sitting around for hours discussing ins and outs of so much of what's important, but mostly lingering on the matter of collective organization and systems for group processes. The night is beyond fun and I finally drag myself to bed far later than I should, but so filled with thought and hope and ideas and joy at the company I have access to. I thank the universe for each moment. Even this one, sucking down coffee and wishing I were laying warm and cozy, asleep in my lovers arms...