Open Mic Night

I was 7th in line for the microphone last night. I brought 3 of my poems to read in my rainbow colored folder: "Compassion", "Silhouette" and another I had written about sensual awakening.

As luck would have it, Divinity introduced me to the stage after the guest musical performers had finally arrived and were setting up, so as fortune would have it, the room was full and every eye on me--again!

As I went through each piece, with a little chat between each one to set up the context, the room was silent. Suddenly fears went through my head that they were not entertained at all, as the normal ruckus was missing. As I finished each piece, I stepped back and paused for a few seconds to signal the end, and the silence would finally be pierced by the applause, which I was afraid was mandatory aritist-to-artist support.

When I gave a slight bow and took my seat, Divinity called out from the Mic, "Miss Sophie Featherwind everybody! Do we want to her to come back!" And everyone applauded, hooted and whistled, which did not dissuade me that they weren't just being polite.

About three performers later, I learned that if this group doesn't like a performance, they'll just stroll out and leave the place empty as they did to one poor individual in his standup routine. The fact that they stayed silent during my piece and a few women introduced themselves to me afterward gives me renewed confidence. Rebekah, the belly dancer, approached first, gave me her card for fashion design, saying she could help tailor for my shoulders. The others expressed that they liked my work.

I seem to silence the audience. First, during the Vagina Monologues, then Becoming Real at the church and finally, last night. Being up on stage, it's hard to tell if it's a rapt attention or the audience just waiting for you to finish up, shut up and get off the stage.

My material for the "Finding Your Spiritual Name" Sunday Morning Adult Round Table is progressing nicely. I actually have enough as is to be educational. But I am still Googling for more examples of a couple of the aspects. I'm sure I will find them. There seem to be plenty out there.

This morning, my increasing inability to pass as male made itself evident during my morning exchange at the checkpoint. As I pulled up, singing Good Morning as usual, he replied quietly with, "Hi, Ma'am," looked at my government issued ID from October that I haven't updated yet, and said a little more loudly, "Have a good day, Sir," as he handed it back. Now keep in mind that I am wearing a men's short sleeve button up white shirt with navy blue pinstripes interspersed around, and I hadn't shaved since 6 PM last night.

Something's working.

An unbelievable 30 minutes of pain is scheduled for this afternoon at 5:45. Judy called me last night to remind me about the laser appointment. This has been a rough four weeks. Shaving only when I'm going somewhere besides work gets really depressing. I so enjoy a smooth face. I have also discovered that a razor once opened and used still only lasts about a week. Go figure. Practically all the downward hairs are gone and the remaining hair is noticeably thinner. With my 4th treatment today, she'll be forced to zap the resistant chin and neck hair once again.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie