Maybe yesterday afternoon’s sudden squall of death/disaster trauma helped me to let go in a strange way, but last night, reading excerpts from my most personal of personal teenage diaries, to a room of strangers*, was some big fun. This was part of “Cringe Night”, hosted by Thessaly the Ukulady (pictured above) at the Theatre Asylum in Los Angeles.

I read aloud undoctored accounts of my first successful exploration of self, as well as the first exploration of self by another. I did have to take a couple moments here and there to blush and stammer, but crackers and jam, people sure did seem to enjoy it. I know I was completely compelled by the other readings. Something about the realness brings a voyeuristic goodness into it, as well as a visceral, empathetic attraction.

During the short Q&A, the audience was outraged when I revealed that my high school crush had, around my 17th birthday, kissed me then ignored me forever after. In fact, we all shouted, on the count of three, “Fuck [crush’s name]!”

I am booked to read more excerpts on October 3. As 13-year-old Becky exclaimed, in her usual pique:

Oh, what am I coming to? Do all teenagers behave this way?

*except for Seth, who laughed in all the right places.

Wow. As if this relentless self-praise and promotion weren’t enough, I have neglected to mention that I blab endlessly in what will be a four-part podcast that was recorded a little bit back by Michael and DJ Dean, my new favorite South County undercover freaks. Michael I sort of knew Way Back When, and it has been a treat to reconnect and to hang out with him and his bride as they create art on every level all the time. Check out Clone the Homeless for a well-rounded tour of their labrynithical minds.

What is going on with all this podding? And reading? And writing? And stuff? It’s like a creativity volcano in herrre.