"ANGEL, ANGEL WE GO DOWN TOGETHER"

Wowzer! I just met a seriously catty woman. I was in the bodega getting a tea and saw this gorgeous woman with beautiful olive skin and that effortless beach hair and this natural-beauty air about her. I don't think supermodels are hot shit. I think regular-looking people who embrace their individuality, though, are incredible. So, I said to her, "You have really beautiful skin."

What did she say to me?

She said, "Who asked you, bitch?"

This happens a lot, and I mean, a lot. I've heard it from other women and I've experienced it, too. Look, I like just about everyone. I don't care what you look like, I don't care what you believe in or don't believe in, I don't care where you're from or what religion you are (or aren't) or what you're wearing or how much money you make or what you drive or who you are dating or partnered with or how much you weigh or what you do for a living or any of that.

All I care about it that you are a nice person.

That's it. And, if you're a nice person, I want to be your friend. And, if I see something about you that I feel prompted to praise, I'm going to say so! And, when I do, I mean exactly what I say and nothing else.

A friend told me once that I carry myself in a confident way and people are intimidated. Are you fucking serious? Me? I'm the biggest dork on the planet. I'm nearly six-feet tall and am like a big, goofy nerd. No, not like a big, goofy nerd. I am a big, goofy nerd. And, don't let the good posture fool you-- I'm just as insecure and human as everyone else. We all have something we're funny about, what's the big deal? The possible difference? I'll tell you all about it. I'll admit when I feel insecure or threatened or angry or sad or nervous or if I'm having trouble taking a compliment. I won't lash out and be nasty to you. Ever. And, if you are nasty to me, I'll still be direct and honest with you. I'm just saying. I don't see the point of doing otherwise.

As for the woman at the bodega, her sour-grapes routine really ruined her looks, don't you think? Can you imagine? What do you suppose it feels like to be that crummy?

Sure, I probably caught her in the middle of the Worst Day Ever and she just misdirected, which is totally human and normal, I think, but it still sucked, it was still nasty.

Anyway, on a more positive note, I was left to my own devices the other night and chopped my hair off. Not off. But shorter. I like it. It feels fussy when it's too long. For years I wore it long, almost to my elbows, and always tucked it back into a bun, so one day I liberated it and haven't looked back since. It was faaaaantastic to just lop it all off like that and fantastic to chop it again the other night.

Reading tonight at The Fixx. Show up prepared to throw things and for those of you who can't make it/wouldn't be caught dead at my reading, check back later for pics and (I'm sure) some interesting details. Tonight, I'll start by reading a few interesting "fan" letters I've gotten in the last day or so. I appologize in advance to all Dungeons and Dragons enthusiasts, self-proclaimed vampires, internet trollers, book ejaculators, blog ejaculators, that one guy who wrote three times asking me to pick my nose and wipe a booger on his chest, and the charming fellow who demanded a night with me, yet did so in rhyme. Your letters were too good not to share.