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About Last Night...
Jun. 26th, 2008 02:45 pmLast night's reading went surprisingly well. The Minneapolis Library (despite a lack of signs in the lobby) has a really nice performance space. It's a lot cozier than either the Loft or Intermedia Arts, IMHO.
I, however, managed to get lost. I really, really need to write about my theory that St. Paul faeries adopt a person who moves to St. Paul (which is why Saint Paulies are rarely lost in their own city), and the Minneapolis faeries treat you as an enemy in their territory (and visa versa) once you cross the river. Inside the safety of my iron clad car, I found the library just fine. I mean, it's on 4th and Hennepin. Not hard. But, finding parking was insane. I guess the library has a lot, but the faeries hid that from me, despite circling the building twice. All the other nearby lots were pay-as-you enter and I'd forgotten to stop for cash. I ended up driving several (and by several, I actually mean eight or nine) blocks away to park in the garage for the Grand Hotel.
That's when the faeries started to have their fun with me.
First of all, just getting from the parking lot to the street proved to be quite the challenge. While inside the myriad twists and turns of the skyway system, I got completely turned around, so that by the time I got outside I had no idea which direction the library was. I ended up walking in the wrong direction, but a nice lady FROM FRANCE helped me find my way (thank God for tourists or I'd be lost in my own Twin City.) Then I hoofed it through really unfamiliar streets. What's astounding to me about this is that I used to not only live in Uptown, but I worked in downtown at the Pillsbury/Grand Met building. Downtown Minneapolis looked completely strange to me. The light rail threw me, too, since I haven't spent any time at all in downtown Minneapolis since it was built. I felt like I'd accidentally transported to Boston or some other truly cosmopolitan city.
It was weird.
I managed, however, to find the library only about a half hour late. (Given that my first sighting of the library it was quarter to the hour, I consider this fairly disasterous. I was LOST.) At any rate, my friends Bill and Melissa were sitting in the front row of the second section and they kindly moved over a seat so I could join them. Afterward I discovered that Melissa had brought along her friend Jennifer, who was a hoot, though I at first mistook them for sisters.
The caliber of the writers impressed me. Normally, as you've often heard me complain, I'm not fond of literary types. Most of the readers were memorists and poets, my least favorite species of the literary genus, but, as I said, their general quality surprised and impressed me. There was one particularly memorable piece by a female to male transperson, who'd written about an experience he'd had at work. It was about the little, unintentional betrayals we're willing to make to protect our identities, and it moved me in a way few other piece that followed did.
I laughed a lot, though, too, which was a nice change from the ususally dreadfully dull, snoozefest of these kinds of readings.
Because I was expecting a lot of dullness, I brought along "The Second Coming of Emily" excerpt that I've read a number of places. It's quite light and funny, and it was, as it always is when I read with the literary set, very, very different from anything else anyone read. I was actually a bit nervous reading, which I almost never am, but I blame that on the professionalness of the venue (and the fact that I wanted not to suck, given how little suckage had gone before me).
At the end, I actually had a stranger ask how she could find my work, which always makes these sorts of torture seem worthwhile. The other shocker was that my old, dear friend Michele H. (who holds the distinction of being the woman my first girlfriend left me for,) and her girlfriend Michele D. were there and stopped by to say hello. (The parade of the exs! It must be Pride weekend!) Anyway, I'd not seen Michele in probably close to a decade and that may not be much of a exaggeration since she's never met Mason, nor heard about Ella.
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jiawen came too, and a bunch of us headed off to a late dinner/hanging out afterward at the Highland Grill which was a lot of fun (I only got a little lost getting there -- I could see the banks of St. Paul from the restaurant, so the faeries' powers were weaker). We had a great time talking about the history of St. Paul, weird Minnesota language things (I confessed that I spent my first few months in Minneapolis completely stymied by the greeting, "What's up?" I knew there was supposed to be a noncommital answer, but someone had to tell me that the traditional response was "Not much." In my country [Wisconsin] people greet each other with "How are you?" and the response is "Fine. You?"), Fourth Street Fantasy convention, and random silliness.
I haven't had a fun night like that in a long time.
I, however, managed to get lost. I really, really need to write about my theory that St. Paul faeries adopt a person who moves to St. Paul (which is why Saint Paulies are rarely lost in their own city), and the Minneapolis faeries treat you as an enemy in their territory (and visa versa) once you cross the river. Inside the safety of my iron clad car, I found the library just fine. I mean, it's on 4th and Hennepin. Not hard. But, finding parking was insane. I guess the library has a lot, but the faeries hid that from me, despite circling the building twice. All the other nearby lots were pay-as-you enter and I'd forgotten to stop for cash. I ended up driving several (and by several, I actually mean eight or nine) blocks away to park in the garage for the Grand Hotel.
That's when the faeries started to have their fun with me.
First of all, just getting from the parking lot to the street proved to be quite the challenge. While inside the myriad twists and turns of the skyway system, I got completely turned around, so that by the time I got outside I had no idea which direction the library was. I ended up walking in the wrong direction, but a nice lady FROM FRANCE helped me find my way (thank God for tourists or I'd be lost in my own Twin City.) Then I hoofed it through really unfamiliar streets. What's astounding to me about this is that I used to not only live in Uptown, but I worked in downtown at the Pillsbury/Grand Met building. Downtown Minneapolis looked completely strange to me. The light rail threw me, too, since I haven't spent any time at all in downtown Minneapolis since it was built. I felt like I'd accidentally transported to Boston or some other truly cosmopolitan city.
It was weird.
I managed, however, to find the library only about a half hour late. (Given that my first sighting of the library it was quarter to the hour, I consider this fairly disasterous. I was LOST.) At any rate, my friends Bill and Melissa were sitting in the front row of the second section and they kindly moved over a seat so I could join them. Afterward I discovered that Melissa had brought along her friend Jennifer, who was a hoot, though I at first mistook them for sisters.
The caliber of the writers impressed me. Normally, as you've often heard me complain, I'm not fond of literary types. Most of the readers were memorists and poets, my least favorite species of the literary genus, but, as I said, their general quality surprised and impressed me. There was one particularly memorable piece by a female to male transperson, who'd written about an experience he'd had at work. It was about the little, unintentional betrayals we're willing to make to protect our identities, and it moved me in a way few other piece that followed did.
I laughed a lot, though, too, which was a nice change from the ususally dreadfully dull, snoozefest of these kinds of readings.
Because I was expecting a lot of dullness, I brought along "The Second Coming of Emily" excerpt that I've read a number of places. It's quite light and funny, and it was, as it always is when I read with the literary set, very, very different from anything else anyone read. I was actually a bit nervous reading, which I almost never am, but I blame that on the professionalness of the venue (and the fact that I wanted not to suck, given how little suckage had gone before me).
At the end, I actually had a stranger ask how she could find my work, which always makes these sorts of torture seem worthwhile. The other shocker was that my old, dear friend Michele H. (who holds the distinction of being the woman my first girlfriend left me for,) and her girlfriend Michele D. were there and stopped by to say hello. (The parade of the exs! It must be Pride weekend!) Anyway, I'd not seen Michele in probably close to a decade and that may not be much of a exaggeration since she's never met Mason, nor heard about Ella.
jiawen came too, and a bunch of us headed off to a late dinner/hanging out afterward at the Highland Grill which was a lot of fun (I only got a little lost getting there -- I could see the banks of St. Paul from the restaurant, so the faeries' powers were weaker). We had a great time talking about the history of St. Paul, weird Minnesota language things (I confessed that I spent my first few months in Minneapolis completely stymied by the greeting, "What's up?" I knew there was supposed to be a noncommital answer, but someone had to tell me that the traditional response was "Not much." In my country [Wisconsin] people greet each other with "How are you?" and the response is "Fine. You?"), Fourth Street Fantasy convention, and random silliness. I haven't had a fun night like that in a long time.