Notes to Self

My name is GNA Garcia. I am a gentlewoman scholar. My notes to self are often a little naughty, sometimes a little nice, and entirely uncensored.

As a letter writer, writing a letter, at the perfect time, is choice. It is a golden moment… in my mind and so on.

All letters are all ways love letters.

Do stereotypes rule?

"You’re in post-production before you know it. The reality is that I don’t fucking know this person."

I say: Basically why I’ve never had a long-term relationship with a woman. Because the women who want me want a “man” without a dick. And that’s not me, on all accounts. (Roles, stereotypes, culture, all in play. You figure it out.)

“@audiosmut: “Did I make it all up? Maybe she was never into it.” #MoviesInYourHead”

In De Pen Dance Day

"Awesome plans this weekend?" asked my colleagues with raised eyebrows of hope. "No. I don’t have any Friends here like that yet." "Every time you say that, I feel sad."

Me too.

The Coach, a technology-equipt mobile outreach vehicle.

Time to take it to the students. BAM!

In dying, saying good-bye is a courtesy.

Tijuana wool pullovers doing the baked Fish shuffle to decent tweeked HSBand jazz. I wanted a table, a whiskey, and an ashtray. They wanted to dance. Now I’m eating ramen. Win-win.

"She had black hair like ravens crawling over her shoulders, all the way down. She had a smile that swerved. She had a smiled that curved. She had a smile that swerved all over the road." (Mark Sandman of Morphine, "All Wrong" off Cure for Pain, 1993)

"The tide of the future is a freedom tide. You ain’t see nothing, yet" (Ronald Reagan, 1984).

Saw two dozen perfectly plump, primped eggs walking down the street. All dyed blond and pastel. Laughed aloud. Taxista said, “You are too beautiful. Your dark hair. Your height.” “I’m not beautiful in these parts.” “Oh yes. You are.” “If you find them that find the likes of me beautiful, send ‘em my way. You have my address.” #Chicago

Standing through tonight’s wonderfully entertaining @MortifiedCHI reminded me of my first @henryrollins spoken word gig in Balto. Pretty sure I laid down, on the floor, after 2hrs. Was 1992-ish. I’ve always been a weak stander-upper.

Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.

Viktor Frankl, who would’ve been 99 today, on the meaning of life (via explore-blog)