The truth
There is a guy who hangs out in doorways on Valencia Street. He wears high heels, has long hair and plays the guitar and rants. As I walked by him today, I heard "...never gonna lie again." I looked over at him, and he looked straight at me and said, his words accentuated by intoxication "I'd rather sit in the doorway and tell the truth than have a good job and lie."
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.: posted by Vera 
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This black wind calls my name to you no more
Fuck that wind.
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.: posted by Vera
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I have been lying through my teeth and silence
August 2003: I was standing next to GP at DNA Lounge after we had been on one date. He said "I really like you." I said nothing and just stood uncomfortably next to him until he excused himself. What I should have said is "I like you too but I don't have amorous feelings for you."
February 2004: JF and I had sex after the party at which we met and continued to see each other for two weeks, after which he stopped calling me. I was heart-broken but for many months I pretended that nothing was wrong whenever I ran into him. What I should have said to him is "I really like you and liked hanging out with you. I am really sad that you stopped calling me."
November 2004: JS and I had been hanging out and IM'ing like mad and kissed a few times. I decided for reasons I don't remember that I didn't want to hang out with him or kiss him anymore. I stopped responding to his emails and blocked him on IM. What I should have said to him is "I'm not feeling it, and I don't think we should see each other anymore."
September 2006: I fell in love with BA. I assumed it was mutual but never checked with him. In November I found out that it wasn't. What I should have said in September is "I am falling in love with you. I want to know how you feel."
February 2007: I met a super nice guy at a coffee shop. We had a long and awesome conversation and ended up having dinner together. I thought he was great but I wasn't physically attracted to him. He called me a few days later and left a voicemail for me. I never returned the call. What I should have done is called him back and said "I think you're great but I am not interested in dating you."
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.: posted by Vera
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The first time I went to summer camp I was 10
There was a girl there named Anja Lux. She was 14. I really looked up to her. I thought she was really cool. She had hairspray, make-up and a boyfriend. And I thought she had the coolest name, Anja Lux. With a name like that, I thought, you couldn't help but have a great life. After all, I agree with the quote that a name is the first story that attaches itself to a life. What kind of story does my name tell? Vera means green, spring, truthful, faith. Fleischer, on the other hand, means butcher. Literally, it means meat-er. Fleisch means meat. In English, my name sounds like it has something to do with flying. Fly-scher. Dragonflei. Butterflei. Fireflei.
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.: posted by Vera
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Protection
Colin and I have been good friends since our junior year of college. For a while in 1999, whenever I listened to Moby's line Everytime you touch me I feel like I need some more, my thoughts went straight to Colin, and I felt excited. We never would have become as close of friends as we did if I hadn't felt that way. My affection enabled our friendship. But with that affection also came the fear of rejection.
One Saturday during that time we were supposed to hang out. Colin was supposed to call me Friday to confirm. He didn't call me that Friday. But another friend called me that Friday to ask me if I wanted to go to Las Vegas for the weekend. Instead of trusting that Colin and I were still on for Saturday or even just calling him to confirm, I gave in to my fear of rejection and of getting ditched and I preemptively ditched him. I went to Las Vegas and never called him. I didn't have a cell phone at the time, so when he couldn't get a hold of me that Saturday, he had to find out from our mutual friend Kitty that I had gone to Las Vegas for the weekend. He wrote me a scathing email titled "Vera Las Vegas." I told him I was sorry, and we made up. What I didn't tell him about was the Moby song and that I was trying not to be vulnerable.
Now, eight years later, I have to admit that I still avoid being vulnerable. I have been getting my face pierced, and I know it's in part because I can feel myself becoming very soft on the inside. I tell myself that I am becoming hard on the outside to maintain balance, and that balance is important. But the truth is that I'm afraid to be vulnerable. The piercings serve the purpose of suggesting to people that I'm not as soft as I actually am. Philo was right; it is armor.
My writing style serves a similar purpose. A new friend recently described my writing as "deadpan simplistic." I used to tell myself that I use deadpan simplicity to stay objective, to avoid judgement. But now I know that I use it to avoid being vulnerable.
On the new moon the other day I set the intention to attract situations into my life that allow me to practice being vulnerable. Ouch. It hurts already. Maybe I need another piercing.
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.: posted by Vera
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Parting gift
On Saturday* he had told me that he didn't think we should see each other anymore. That Monday I went to Death Guild, and he was there. It was awkward. I tried hard not to show how much I was hurting. I was always trying too hard. Shortly before I left that night, a really beautiful song came on. I walked up to him and asked "Do you know who this is?" Or course he did. He said "It's Kathy's Song by Apoptygma Berzerk." "Apo-what?" "Apoptygma Berzerk." "It's beautiful."
Months later I was lying on my bed, listening to the song, curled into a ball, crying**, and there was nobody to lie down next to me.
*This was last November.
**Yes, I was crying about him!
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.: posted by Vera
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Sometimes there is so much brilliance in the world, I don't know if I can take it
I'm writing this while listening to Push It by Salt N Pepa.
TwitterLit twitters the first lines of books. I don't know how she decides which books to quote but reading all those first lines does something to me. It makes me feel moved, touched, inspired, understood, alive, human. I don't know if she just picks the right ones, or if I picked the right day to find the site, or if a book would never get published in the first place if the first line didn't contain some kind of brilliance or honesty or vulnerability in it. Or maybe what creates the brilliance is that these lines are read out of context.
Here are a few gems I have culled from the first page alone:
"There's never been an opera about me, never in my entire life."
"Starting with its most literal aspect--etymologically--sex is pure Latin."
"Love was in the air, so we both walked through love on our way to the corner."
"A name is the first story that attaches itself to a life."
"I am seated in an office, surrounded by heads and bodies."
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.: posted by Vera
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Change yourself, change other people
One morning recently I was sitting in the DeSoto office waiting for a taxi to drive. It must have been Thursday, May 31. Another driver with whom I had had several fun conversations over the last year sat down next to me. We small-talked, and he said that he had had a really bad day the day before (a "bad day" in the taxi world means that you didn't make much money), and now the first of the month was coming up and he didn't have any money to pay child support. He said that he had never been late on his child support. I said "Awww." He said "Do you want to lend me $100? I'll pay you back on Saturday."
I told him that I didn't have enough cash on me. That was the truth because I was about to start my shift, and I don't normally start it with more than $40 or so. But I knew that even if I had had the money, I probably would have said the same thing because of all the voices going off in my head. They said things like
Don't ever lend anybody money.
People cannot be trusted.
Especially don't trust somebody you don't know very well.
Definitely never lend a stranger any money.
You will never get paid back.
While this internal dialog was going on, I remembered that I had my check book with me. I normally don't have it with me but on this day I did. Despite the voices in my head, I said
"I have my check book with me. I can write you a check for $100."
"Okay. Can you make it out to DeSoto?"
"Um. You don't have a bank account?"
"I haven't had one in years."
He doesn't have a bank account! A person without a bank account definitely can't be trusted, the voices tried again.
I decided that I would rather lose $100 than the opportunity to challenge my negative beliefs about people. I wrote a check to DeSoto for $100 and handed it to him.
He asked me if I was driving Saturday. He said he would leave an envelope in the cashier's window for me. I told him that I wasn't driving Saturday but that I was driving Monday. He said there would be an envelope for me on Monday.
At the end of my shift the following Monday, there was an envelope for me in the cashier's window. It contained $105 in cash. On the envelope was hand-written "Just made it, thanks to you."
I used to live in an imaginary world where people don't pay you back the money they owe you. Now I suddenly live in a real life world where even near-strangers pay you back the money they owe you and then some.
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.: posted by Vera
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Seen
We hugged in the car, and our left eyes were right in front of each other.
"I see you."
"I see you too," I said.
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.: posted by Vera
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A bug's dream
On Saturday night I modeled for Anastazia in the Precompression Trashion show. That in itself made me very happy because Anastazia is brilliant and I love being seen, but what's even more exciting is that were all dressed up as bugs. I got to creep across the stage with a bunch of freaky but glamorous bug friends, one scarier than the next. Given that I have identified as half bug for half of my life, this was a total dream come true.
The first set of pictures have surfaced. In this one you can actually see my face. In this one you can totally see my boobs. And while you're beholding the bug show, be sure to check out how amazing Patrick looked. He was my favorite bug of the day.
After the show somebody from the audience said to me that it had looked like a science fiction movie. I took that as a compliment.
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.: posted by Vera
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Bianca kommt wieder
Remember when my sister came to visit, almost four years ago? She is coming again this August!
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.: posted by Vera
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She was pure magic and I told her so
Here is the priestess, performing the marriage ritual at Rosie's and Ken's wedding, which I attended last night. I was in complete awe of her. With every movement of her hands, I felt love, magic and power. It almost moved me to tears.
I ran into her at dinner after the ceremony, and I said
"You are pure magic. You can create planets with your power, can't you?"
And she said "Yes, I can, actually. And so can you, because you are able to recognize it."
Sometimes, lately, I am really glad when I open my mouth.
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.: posted by Vera
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The Perfect Kiss, again
I was leaning against my car, which was parked in North Beach, and he was leaning against me. There were trees overhead, and the leaves were rustling. Children were running and screaming in a park nearby. The wind was stirring our hair. The sun was tickling our skin. Church bells started ringing. I said "This is so perfect." He shut me up with his mouth.
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.: posted by Vera
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What would Viv do?
Philo and I went to the Vivienne Westwood exhibit at the De Young on Friday. It was in the nick of time because it ends today. I'm so glad we went because I was left feeling floored with inspiration. It made me want to start adding dimension and volume to my outfits. I want big things that stick out into the universe. I want collars that are as big as chandeliers. I want to wear hoop skirts and a huge chiffon bow on my right shoulder. I want dresses that have spiral staircases and bird cages hanging off of them. I want to wear a corset with handlebars like in that one George Michael video.
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.: posted by Vera
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Deception
Five years ago I was brandnew to San Francisco and hardly knew anybody here, except for my then-boyfriend Aaron with whom I had moved here from Virginia. Sometimes, when I wrote a post on this blog about something Aaron had said, I didn't write that "my boyfriend" said that but that "a friend" said that, even though it was really my boyfriend. I did that because I wanted you to think that I have friends and people to talk to other than my boyfriend, even though I really didn't.
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.: posted by Vera
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Back in November
"Did you ever have your nose pierced?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"Why not?" I asked.
When I noticed that I wasn't really listening to his answer, I realized that we had had this conversation before.
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.: posted by Vera
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Distant
A couple of weeks ago, my friend Gerry and I were at a Dubstep event, and a DJ named Distance was playing. I said "I like the name, Distance." Gerry said "I bet you do." We grinned at each other knowingly because we have often talked about the distance I keep between myself and others.
My friend Philo told me today that my piercings create a distance between myself and others. I said "Because they make me different?" He said "They are a kind of armor."
I also received an email from a new friend today which said "There is a certain physical and conversational distance that you seem to maintain." The way that made me feel is sad, angry and frustrated.
I really don't want to be distant anymore. Help.
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.: posted by Vera
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The gift
I went to Anastazia's studio today for a fitting for a fashion show coming up this weekend. Afterwards I explored her building, which seemed interesting at first glance. I opened the door that said "roof access" and almost immediately closed it again. There were two precarious-looking ladders that led to a closed trap door in the ceiling. I climbed the first one and pushed in the little door that was next to it. It opened to complete darkness and lots of ghosts. It made me want to leave. But then I thought "What the heck" and that I have been wanting to take more chances.
So I took a chance and climbed the second ladder. At first I couldn't open the trap door in the ceiling. But when I pulled the handle to the side in a certain way, it suddenly popped open and exposed blue sky. I heaved myself onto the roof and couldn't believe my eyes. I'm pretty sure I even let out a squeak. Climbing those stairs turned out to be the best thing I had done all week.
I was on the top of an eight-story building at 7th and Market, and it was a gorgeous day. I had views in all directions that I had never seen before.
After taking lots of pictures, I noticed that a well-groomed man with curly hair and a purple dress shirt was on the roof, talking on his cell phone.
"How did you get up here?" He wasn't unfriendly.
"I climbed up!"
"How did you open the door?"
"I just opened it!"
"Do you have a key?"
"No."
It turns out that the door that said "roof access"? That one is supposed to be locked. They try to keep it locked at all times.
That's when I knew that the fact that the door had been unlocked at the time that I tried it had been a gift from the gods.
See my pictures.
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.: posted by Vera
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So that birthday photoshoot I was talking about?
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.: posted by Vera
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