The reading last night went very well. I was not assaulted or nothin...tho the tubby guy in the unironic Iron Maiden tee shirt gave me a brief cause for pause. Eventually, the Famous Grouse kicked in and I could've cared less...tho I was awfully tummy-butterflyish and even had what felt suspiciously like hot flashes up to the point I took to the mic. Bizarre. I usually don't get stage fright. Jittery, yea, but not quite anything like that. I managed to get in a Larry Craig, bathroom sex joke and after that I felt like I was in control and just went with it. I did however, leave the bathhouse and sodomy sonnets home, tho I brought the drug and rough trade poems.
It was great getting to split a reading with my friend Eric, too. He offered a great short story and knocked it out of the park.
My friend Ashley snapped some pics and a vid--we'll see how these turn out, and if I'm not too mortified, I'll see if I can get them posted.
~*~
The 'hawk stayed up the whole 6 hours. I was impressed. That V-05 24 hr. stuff lives up to its name. I ended up talking to Brian when I got home and then crashed in bed straight away. When I woke this morning my hair was only minimally shmushed down from sleep. Amazing. I could have broadcaster hurricane-defying hair if I wanted it.
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