Daily affirmations of a word mercenary
Journalish Category
I like to think of this blog as more than just a journal, but sometimes it’s not. Not at all. Sometimes it’s just all about ME ME ME and what I’ve been up to. Sort of like a journal…ish.
Festivous
17
Jul
2007
In: Journalish
Vapid moment: it’s festival season, and although I’m in mostly-reclusive mode these days, I am planning a blitz of socializing, starting with Blogher, then Meadowfabulous, and culminating with Shambhala in Nelson, BC. Then I have some scary surgery, but never you mind that: there are festivals around the bend! And festivals, dahlingks, mean festival outfits.
Since we’re moving at some point soonish (we’re negotiating on a place right now, trying to make sure they give us the washer/dryer hookups so that we can maintain this delicious coin-op-free lifestyle to which we’ve grown accustomed) I’m not really spending money on clothing right now, but with festivals coming up MY GOD what ever will I WEAR?!
I allowed myself to purchase one weird flowery accessory/headpiece thinger (Dre hates it), but then I’m doing something revolutionary: I’m begging one of the left coast’s ultimate connoisseurs of indie underground fashion to loan me some of her cool shit. Yes, really! I emailed Amy and begged her to loan me some of her cool clothes. I’ve seen what she wears! Her festival clothes are magical and perfect, and amazingly she agreed to the hair-brained idea. I’m borrowing clothes from Lady Leblanc, people!! It’s amazing. I’m sending her a dress and other assorted goodies in exchange, so hopefully it’s a win/win for everyone. I’m extremely excited.
Because really: don’t we all want to steal each other’s outfits? Vera, you better look out: YOU’RE NEXT. Or maybe I’m going after Alison’s arm warmers? I COVET THY CLOTHING, INTERWEB!
Ooh, maybe I should wear my weird headdress thing at Blogher? I was going to bring my nice 3 Free city dresses to look all profesh and stuff, but maybe I should swap and wear all my weird hippie/raver festival clothes in Chicago?
Blank pages
6
Jun
2007
In: Journalish
So, I’m home from my LA trip and am trying to switch gears now that the book tour/whoring is pretty much done. Six months of the most intense self-promotion I’ve ever done, and can I just say I’m pretty much sick of myself? You’re probably catching some of that here on the blog … I’ve been thinking a lot about privacy vs. secrecy and public identity development vs. internal self-knowledge. I have no answers, only questions.
Oh and pictures. I’ll be getting my pictures from LA up slowly, although they’re mostly shots of people you don’t know.
Dog & Pony show: ovah
4
Jun
2007
In: Journalish
My book tour is over. And really, I couldn’t have hoped for a better “end of the road” event than Los Angeles. The reading was so much fun, the house perfectly packed, and I even managed to drag Andreas on stage to read his sidebar. Then I dragged Heidi on stage to embarrass her over her antics at our wedding reception. And then I cut up a penis cake that somehow managed to be even more obscene than the penis cake at the book release party, way back in February … which seems like a lifetime ago. I bookended the tour with penis cake and a Wai-Ching dress on both ends. I’m not sure what that means.
I’ll probably have more to say later when I’m back home, but for now I need to go eat more food (Inn of the Seventh Ray’s brunch buffet? NOT FUCKING AROUND) and lay in the sun and sleep and rest and be on vacation. If your emails are going ignored, that’s why.
Sometimes I have to wonder….
28
May
2007
In: Journalish
Has blogging made it so that for me, the joy isn’t in having experiences, but in sharing them? If so, that’s sort of fucked up.
Flossy, flossy
13
May
2007
In: Journalish
I think perhaps I’ve been misrepresenting my life on Electrolicious. I’ve gotten the impression via emails and comments and conversations that I’ve mislead you all into thinking my life is in some way glamorous. That I wrote a book and now my life is all champagne and gold ingots showering down. Please allow me to dispel these misconceptions by telling you a little about my trip to San Francisco this weekend — which was filled with magical people and important conversations, but far from the stuff of limos and private jets.
As with all my book promotional trips, I flew to San Francisco on my own dime. My publisher doesn’t have a budget for any sort of touring, so I scraped together the cheapest flight I could find, which had me getting in shortly before midnight on Thursday. I’d begged an old friend for a place to stay (no promo budget for a hotel), only to find a few days ago that the friend was actually going to be out of town for the weekend. This lead me to do a little scramble Friday morning, calling Vera and begging her to let me stay at her house that night. (Thank you, Vera!)
Unlike last Friday, I had no press engagements before my evening reading. While Vancouver media seemed interested in the book, no one in San Francisco (radio, tv, or newspaper) wanted to talk to me about it. That was fine, since as last week proved, press appearances don’t result in anyone coming to the reading, so why bother? I had Friday to myself, and I spent it first with my friend Travis, and then bathed in color at Vera’s.
My reading Friday night was in a the children’s/young adult corner of a small indie bookstore. There were 10 of us there (including me), and I stood in front of a shelf of stuffed animals and did my thing with my sock puppet. The small crowd included my aunt, several blogging buddies (Vera! Amy! Leila!) and their guests, an old raver friend, and an Indiebride.com reader. 10 people.
I am so incredibly grateful and appreciative of each of them taking the time to come to the reading — I’ve done several book events where only a couple people show up. Any reading with a few friendly faces is a blessing compared to sitting at a table by myself wondering how long I should wait before calling it a wash, packing up my fuck taffeta shirts, and dragging my sorry ass home.
Friday night was an extra success because I sold a few books at the end of the reading. My cut of the books sold amounts to about $7.50, none of which I’ll see because I’m still earning back my small advance. My advance was no five figure sum allowing me to quit my job. It was approximately one month’s worth of pay, most of which I’ve spent promoting the book since it came out. One month’s worth of pay for a project that I’m finishing two years of work on. This is not the stuff of mortgage payments.
Are you getting the picture here? In San Francisco I scraped by on the good will of friends who are willing to open their homes to me and take time out of their lives to come to my reading. This isn’t some sort of glitzy fabulousness: this is the raw, simple kindness of loved ones keeping me from falling flat on my face. And for that, I am endlessly thankful.
My trip to San Francisco was filled with dear friends and deeply appreciated moments. But be not ye fooled by all my preening and boasting and blabbering on this website: my life is not the stuff of flossy dreams. It’s my birthday this week, and my plans include a scary medical procedure, a visit to a new therapist to try to figure out why I’m always freaking out, a couple days fielding upset emails from people about an event I do for fun, and another book event that will pull 10 folks if I’m lucky.
Don’t worry: I’m fine. But don’t go getting fooled by my bluster and thinking that what you see here is all there is. I hold the darkness close and tight late at night, and it’s only through the blessing of my friends and family that I’m not a complete wreck.
Thanks to each and every one of you for all the support.
Canada was fabulous, my friends. Despite getting grief at the border both ways (car searches: not just for stoners any more!), my time in Canada was pure magic. I stayed with my old friend Jolayne (shown here a few years back), who talks just as fast as I do, resulting in lightning speed chattering! Try to keep up and your ears might implode.
Thursday night I went straight from my border search to Teen Angst comedy night in Gastown, where my camera refused to take a single non-blurry photo and I had the pleasure of meeting the founder Sara Bynoe. Sara was way ahead of the game on the whole adolescent stage readings thing, having started Teen Angst in 2000, when Cringe and Mortified and the Salon of Shame were but a twinkle in our eyes.
Friday was the most insane day of press I’ve ever done, but so much fun. The only scary moment was when I sat down 2 minutes before the live telecast of Vancouver’s Breakfast Television, and the host said “So, your wedding was a disaster?” I was like, “Erm, no actually: it was so much fun I wrote a book about it!” She said, “Oh, your second wedding, you mean?” I said “Erm, no actually: I’ve only been married once.”
A quick moment of panic and a glance at her notes revealed that she’d read Jenn Farrell’s article in the Tyee, and thought it was mine. Then the cameras turned on, and we managed to sail through the interview gracefully — the cameramen snickering into their monitors when I mentioned our all-night rave reception wedding.
I had an interview every 2 hours, so I bounced around Vancouver from tv station to radio station to tv station to radio station. I think my favorite interview of the day was with Urban Rush, where I had the delight of spending several hours in the greenroom (I had some lag between interviews) chatting with a makeup artist named Michael who I wanted to fold into my trunk and smuggle across the border with me. (”No, I don’t have anything to declare, officer.”)
Then, just when I was exhausted from talking and couldn’t take it any more, it was time for my reading at Sophia Books. It was a small crowd of the most wonderful people, including the afore-mentioned Jenn, Leigh, as well as the lovely brides of Queer Wedding Story. Interestingly, the only people who come to my readings are folks I’ve reached out to online — no amount of radio or television promoting seems to work. Moral of the story: mainstream media dead? Or just dead to me? Or maybe I’m too weird for primetime? In between my chapters, there was an indie fashion show of gowns … I’d been downing wine at this point and couldn’t stop saying “CAN I TOUCH IT?!” every time I new dress came out. Gorgeousness!
Xta showed up and several of us all hung out at Sophia Books late into the evening, drinking wine and hooping and laughing. It reminded me of the infamous Raverbooks back in the day, where there was no line between what was bookstore and what was social space. (One night in 1998, I went to go pick Andreas up at work and found he and his coworkers rolling between the bookshelves, hugging each other while someone DJed near the register.)
Somehow, despite being up since 6am I managed to stay awake until almost 2.
Saturday, however, I was spent. I woke up from a dream about missing Andreas (aww: we’re both so busy these days. I miss him!), and so I skipped all tentative Saturday plans (shopping, hooping, other gerunds) and drove home to sit quietly and decompress with my man and my dog.
Next up: San Francisco this Friday.
Festivous
17 Jul 2007 In: JournalishVapid moment: it’s festival season, and although I’m in mostly-reclusive mode these days, I am planning a blitz of socializing, starting with Blogher, then Meadowfabulous, and culminating with Shambhala in Nelson, BC. Then I have some scary surgery, but never you mind that: there are festivals around the bend! And festivals, dahlingks, mean festival outfits.
Since we’re moving at some point soonish (we’re negotiating on a place right now, trying to make sure they give us the washer/dryer hookups so that we can maintain this delicious coin-op-free lifestyle to which we’ve grown accustomed) I’m not really spending money on clothing right now, but with festivals coming up MY GOD what ever will I WEAR?!
I allowed myself to purchase one weird flowery accessory/headpiece thinger (Dre hates it), but then I’m doing something revolutionary: I’m begging one of the left coast’s ultimate connoisseurs of indie underground fashion to loan me some of her cool shit. Yes, really! I emailed Amy and begged her to loan me some of her cool clothes. I’ve seen what she wears! Her festival clothes are magical and perfect, and amazingly she agreed to the hair-brained idea. I’m borrowing clothes from Lady Leblanc, people!! It’s amazing. I’m sending her a dress and other assorted goodies in exchange, so hopefully it’s a win/win for everyone. I’m extremely excited.
Because really: don’t we all want to steal each other’s outfits? Vera, you better look out: YOU’RE NEXT. Or maybe I’m going after Alison’s arm warmers? I COVET THY CLOTHING, INTERWEB!
Ooh, maybe I should wear my weird headdress thing at Blogher? I was going to bring my nice 3 Free city dresses to look all profesh and stuff, but maybe I should swap and wear all my weird hippie/raver festival clothes in Chicago?
Blank pages
6 Jun 2007 In: JournalishSo, I’m home from my LA trip and am trying to switch gears now that the book tour/whoring is pretty much done. Six months of the most intense self-promotion I’ve ever done, and can I just say I’m pretty much sick of myself? You’re probably catching some of that here on the blog … I’ve been thinking a lot about privacy vs. secrecy and public identity development vs. internal self-knowledge. I have no answers, only questions.
Oh and pictures. I’ll be getting my pictures from LA up slowly, although they’re mostly shots of people you don’t know.
Dog & Pony show: ovah
4 Jun 2007 In: JournalishMy book tour is over. And really, I couldn’t have hoped for a better “end of the road” event than Los Angeles. The reading was so much fun, the house perfectly packed, and I even managed to drag Andreas on stage to read his sidebar. Then I dragged Heidi on stage to embarrass her over her antics at our wedding reception. And then I cut up a penis cake that somehow managed to be even more obscene than the penis cake at the book release party, way back in February … which seems like a lifetime ago. I bookended the tour with penis cake and a Wai-Ching dress on both ends. I’m not sure what that means.
I’ll probably have more to say later when I’m back home, but for now I need to go eat more food (Inn of the Seventh Ray’s brunch buffet? NOT FUCKING AROUND) and lay in the sun and sleep and rest and be on vacation. If your emails are going ignored, that’s why.
Sometimes I have to wonder….
28 May 2007 In: JournalishHas blogging made it so that for me, the joy isn’t in having experiences, but in sharing them? If so, that’s sort of fucked up.
Flossy, flossy
13 May 2007 In: JournalishI think perhaps I’ve been misrepresenting my life on Electrolicious. I’ve gotten the impression via emails and comments and conversations that I’ve mislead you all into thinking my life is in some way glamorous. That I wrote a book and now my life is all champagne and gold ingots showering down. Please allow me to dispel these misconceptions by telling you a little about my trip to San Francisco this weekend — which was filled with magical people and important conversations, but far from the stuff of limos and private jets.
As with all my book promotional trips, I flew to San Francisco on my own dime. My publisher doesn’t have a budget for any sort of touring, so I scraped together the cheapest flight I could find, which had me getting in shortly before midnight on Thursday. I’d begged an old friend for a place to stay (no promo budget for a hotel), only to find a few days ago that the friend was actually going to be out of town for the weekend. This lead me to do a little scramble Friday morning, calling Vera and begging her to let me stay at her house that night. (Thank you, Vera!)
Unlike last Friday, I had no press engagements before my evening reading. While Vancouver media seemed interested in the book, no one in San Francisco (radio, tv, or newspaper) wanted to talk to me about it. That was fine, since as last week proved, press appearances don’t result in anyone coming to the reading, so why bother? I had Friday to myself, and I spent it first with my friend Travis, and then bathed in color at Vera’s.
My reading Friday night was in a the children’s/young adult corner of a small indie bookstore. There were 10 of us there (including me), and I stood in front of a shelf of stuffed animals and did my thing with my sock puppet. The small crowd included my aunt, several blogging buddies (Vera! Amy! Leila!) and their guests, an old raver friend, and an Indiebride.com reader. 10 people.
I am so incredibly grateful and appreciative of each of them taking the time to come to the reading — I’ve done several book events where only a couple people show up. Any reading with a few friendly faces is a blessing compared to sitting at a table by myself wondering how long I should wait before calling it a wash, packing up my fuck taffeta shirts, and dragging my sorry ass home.
Friday night was an extra success because I sold a few books at the end of the reading. My cut of the books sold amounts to about $7.50, none of which I’ll see because I’m still earning back my small advance. My advance was no five figure sum allowing me to quit my job. It was approximately one month’s worth of pay, most of which I’ve spent promoting the book since it came out. One month’s worth of pay for a project that I’m finishing two years of work on. This is not the stuff of mortgage payments.
Are you getting the picture here? In San Francisco I scraped by on the good will of friends who are willing to open their homes to me and take time out of their lives to come to my reading. This isn’t some sort of glitzy fabulousness: this is the raw, simple kindness of loved ones keeping me from falling flat on my face. And for that, I am endlessly thankful.
My trip to San Francisco was filled with dear friends and deeply appreciated moments. But be not ye fooled by all my preening and boasting and blabbering on this website: my life is not the stuff of flossy dreams. It’s my birthday this week, and my plans include a scary medical procedure, a visit to a new therapist to try to figure out why I’m always freaking out, a couple days fielding upset emails from people about an event I do for fun, and another book event that will pull 10 folks if I’m lucky.
Don’t worry: I’m fine. But don’t go getting fooled by my bluster and thinking that what you see here is all there is. I hold the darkness close and tight late at night, and it’s only through the blessing of my friends and family that I’m not a complete wreck.
Thanks to each and every one of you for all the support.
Canada was fabulous, my friends. Despite getting grief at the border both ways (car searches: not just for stoners any more!), my time in Canada was pure magic. I stayed with my old friend Jolayne (shown here a few years back), who talks just as fast as I do, resulting in lightning speed chattering! Try to keep up and your ears might implode.
Thursday night I went straight from my border search to Teen Angst comedy night in Gastown, where my camera refused to take a single non-blurry photo and I had the pleasure of meeting the founder Sara Bynoe. Sara was way ahead of the game on the whole adolescent stage readings thing, having started Teen Angst in 2000, when Cringe and Mortified and the Salon of Shame were but a twinkle in our eyes.
Friday was the most insane day of press I’ve ever done, but so much fun. The only scary moment was when I sat down 2 minutes before the live telecast of Vancouver’s Breakfast Television, and the host said “So, your wedding was a disaster?” I was like, “Erm, no actually: it was so much fun I wrote a book about it!” She said, “Oh, your second wedding, you mean?” I said “Erm, no actually: I’ve only been married once.”
A quick moment of panic and a glance at her notes revealed that she’d read Jenn Farrell’s article in the Tyee, and thought it was mine. Then the cameras turned on, and we managed to sail through the interview gracefully — the cameramen snickering into their monitors when I mentioned our all-night rave reception wedding.
I had an interview every 2 hours, so I bounced around Vancouver from tv station to radio station to tv station to radio station. I think my favorite interview of the day was with Urban Rush, where I had the delight of spending several hours in the greenroom (I had some lag between interviews) chatting with a makeup artist named Michael who I wanted to fold into my trunk and smuggle across the border with me. (”No, I don’t have anything to declare, officer.”)
Then, just when I was exhausted from talking and couldn’t take it any more, it was time for my reading at Sophia Books. It was a small crowd of the most wonderful people, including the afore-mentioned Jenn, Leigh, as well as the lovely brides of Queer Wedding Story. Interestingly, the only people who come to my readings are folks I’ve reached out to online — no amount of radio or television promoting seems to work. Moral of the story: mainstream media dead? Or just dead to me? Or maybe I’m too weird for primetime? In between my chapters, there was an indie fashion show of gowns … I’d been downing wine at this point and couldn’t stop saying “CAN I TOUCH IT?!” every time I new dress came out. Gorgeousness!
Xta showed up and several of us all hung out at Sophia Books late into the evening, drinking wine and hooping and laughing. It reminded me of the infamous Raverbooks back in the day, where there was no line between what was bookstore and what was social space. (One night in 1998, I went to go pick Andreas up at work and found he and his coworkers rolling between the bookshelves, hugging each other while someone DJed near the register.)
Somehow, despite being up since 6am I managed to stay awake until almost 2.
Saturday, however, I was spent. I woke up from a dream about missing Andreas (aww: we’re both so busy these days. I miss him!), and so I skipped all tentative Saturday plans (shopping, hooping, other gerunds) and drove home to sit quietly and decompress with my man and my dog.
Next up: San Francisco this Friday.
Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
You're reading a page from the archives. Check the homepage for current content.
