Bitch Face

30 Jun

Parker rang me, “I’m here,” he said.

“You’re a day early and I’m 4 hrs away, but I’ll be there when I get there. Don’t worry.” I hung up the phone and drove home after an incredible day in the Pennsylvania backcountry.

He remarked at my ease in a seemingly stressful situation. Hosting three out of town trans-men, new to the city, and their first time above the Mason Dixion Line.  It had been a year since we last saw each other and my life had then revolved around my blood thirsty ambition, lingering cattiness, and the sick sense of revenge I get from eating BBQ at an ex-boyfriend’s wedding.

I’ve made some serious adjustments to my life over the last year. As I welcome my 4th year in Philly and committed to another two, I will have to accept I’m no longer ” new” to the city.  I will have lived here longer than an other move.  Nawlins, I’ll see you soon enough.

What major  changes sent my life careening off its tracks?

  • One beautifully failed relationship.
  • The cascading effects of family loss and inheritance.
  • And 6 panic stricken months of unemployment. Everyone’s true meet-your-maker state of mind.

Despite the fact I was an absolute disaster this last year and I may have actually been cracking under the pressure, it pushed onward in some personal development.  If I stopped using my bitch face and holding folks at arms length, I might just tackle the “grow” in grown-up.  (I know a lot of you  already had this figured out, but I’m shitty at practice).

With a little help from Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life by Dear Sugar, I laid down my fighting words.  I made some sincere apologies. Not because I like the soft cooing words of an advice columnist, but because she reached off the page and slapped my bitch face right off.   She’s a cursing columnist.  I like cursin’.   So, if you’re looking for a book to knock your ego down a peg or two, she’s your one women rodeo.

I pull a lot of my early morning laughs from the You Made It Weird podcast, where the conversation can get excruciating and frank. With help from comedian Pete Holms and a montley crew of one-on-one guest conversations, this makes it into my slap-my-bitch-face-with-real-funny-talk.  I love a good candid show.  Nothing makes me feel more connected than the terribly awkward and intimate knowledge of each other.

What has face slapping and awkwardness got to do with anything?  The key players in the get-down-on-the-ground-until-you-can-smell-humble game.  I think we’re all working on mastering this.

We all can have a case of Bitchy Resting Face.

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