and not all 3 a.m. thoughts are bad ones and sometimes it is worth it to put on lipstick and a nice skirt and make the effort to force yourself to mix with fellow humans.

I didn't want to go anywhere I had to talk to anyone the last week, but I just thought of these things -

- the woman who is so capable and beautiful and has such stories to tell about her pre-and-post thug life and who is as at home in her anger as a queen in her castle -

that book you lent me? about Angry Black Women? I read it all in one sitting tonight. Thank you. Angry feelings are as mysterious to me as sex was when I was a kid, and though I've never been tempted to fake either purity or insatiability, I have been shamed into acting more righteosly indignant than I felt (over what I thought was nothing) When did female anger become so fashionable? But;and this is great; when it got to the part with 'what sets you off/what you feel like doing/what you should do' - I do the same thing as you, Sister. Maybe I really don't need to be angry first. I think that's what you've been trying to tell me.

- the young man who came to CardioSalsa with his mother and picked me as his partner in the Circle Dance segment -

I didn't want to even show up today, and I should have known that you would be the first one the teacher picked to dance in the center of the circle. And I know you picked me because your mother told you I was a belly dancer and you're fascinated by them ever since you went to that Armenian place in Modesto. I remember Spring Break at age 13 too - your parents are probably glad you still have a good time together.
But I didn't feel like dancing. I didn't have any moves to show you. When you tripped on your shoelace in the first two seconds we were together, I felt sorry for you and said the first thing that came into my head - "when you get lost, listen to the drums". Ja Sha Taan came on and I saw you shrug thedum-dumtek beat down into your spine, and you shook like a wolf pup for a second and then you tore the hell out of the floor. It was a dionysian transformation. I still can't believe it. We MUST go see Fun-Da-Mental together when they hit the Central Valley.

- to the neighbor who asked me to pick up her child where she had missed her bus - I got lost every time I ever had to drive through that part of the delta, and I was just thinking to myself, I was always running late to a job I didn't want in a sketchy part of the waterfront. When I saw that little shining face come into view, I realized why I needed to drive down there on such a beautiful day - now I know that I don't need to memorize maps, or go back to Square One and learn everything I missed - I just need to give up being nervous.

- to the young relative whose boyfriend shyly told me his favorite movie is "Thirteen" - I told you my favorite character was the brother because I think chaos and craziness is ugly and boring and valued out of all proportion in mass pop culture, and I had no way of knowing that you are close to several females who are fatally glamourous in the manic stages to men who should know better, and I had no idea this was the first time you talked to any of your mother's friends.

When I'm angry, like when I'm depressed and when I'm guilty over not being a more charming and fascinating person, I don't show it. I don't like drama. I navigate away from conflict. But when I get lost I can still respond to the drums like an Angry Black Woman.

And it doesn't really matter anyway! I'm sleepy again and I haven't forgotten how to get along with people.
It's not so tough if you give up being nervous.
I'm out.
bye