SO I was on FaceBook after thumbs-upping a good article with suggestions for how to come out to non-kinky folks (I personally eschew the term “vanilla” because I feel too many perverts use it as a smeary smarmy superior pejorative) about being a pervert. And I quipped that my coming-out process usually involved my saying “Um. Have you googled me? Go ahead. I’ll wait.” and that pretty much seals the deal.

In response to this a buddy mentioned that they DID in fact google me and that I seemed to have control over the first page of listings for “Mollena”

Weird shit pops up. Of course, there’s the song The British Musician wrote. The one named after me is easy enough to grok. Funny thing is, he wrote other songs about me, but you’d only know that if he’d whispered it into your ear from thousands of miles away as your heart longed for him…

But I digress.

So Wow the internets are weird. I know I have been muse for various playwrights and at least one songwriter. Until just now I didn’t know that a song about me inspired someone to create a virtual “Mollena”

Anyway, google me and my entry on IMDb comes up, too. I don’t have many credits. One of which you’ve never heard, promise. one of which you may have heard of if you’re a massive fan of Danny Bonaduce or a cult movie buff. And the third you  have definitely heard of and probably seen.

I sang backup in the Children’s Chorus for “The Wiz,” and I went over to YouTube to listen to the tracks on which I sang.  What is seriously eerie is that I can hear me singing. I would  have been 8 ~ 9 years old, and we were in a studio in midtown, doing this recording over a couple of days. Kazoos were involved.

In hearing it now, so many memories came flooding back: meeting Diana Ross, Nipsey Russell, and being pissed that Michael Jackson was there but never came in to say hello to us.  We met Lena Horne, too, and for some reason Geoffrey Holder was there. And Yeah he does laugh like he did on those 7-Up commercials.

We did that first song, “He’s The Wiz,” on the first day.  I was chosen to come back the next day to sing with a smaller group on backup for another song, which was Glinda’s theme. The first minute or so of this odd clip is the only version I could find, and frankly it sounds kinda eerie to me.

Now I can’t remember why I was talking about this shit…

Oh yeah. I don’t have a particular reason. Just up late, pulling myself apart trying to play Priestess. I’m not having much luck divining my own fate, even as I pull out my own emotional entrails.

Part of me is stuck as that little kid, veering between the magic of movies and television, fame and fourune always jus tone audition away, who traveled the world yet grew  up poor and never feeling good enough. I wonder what it will take for me to accept my own miracles. Some I do, sure. And I get small glimpses, here and there…wait. Where was I again? Fuck…

OK. Um…So.

I was just riffing in my head about how trippy chains of association can be. And how odd my childhood was.

Is.

Is it over? Not by half.

And it is late. And I have to be up in a few hours for a taping of a Public Access / Internet TV show about…sex. Shockingly

I’m writing words none of you will read.

I’m phrasing an inner monologue I don’t want anyone to hear.

I’m voicing fears I do not want to face and, in bad moments? Resent having to share at all.

I’m editing a document that is supposed to facilitate one of the more critical conversations I’ll have in my lifetime.

I’m trying to capture the smell of anxiety, the taste of uncertainty, the sound of desire, the sight of longing.

I fluctuate between cold determination and confidence and breathless, choking anxiety.

A few days ago I was sweating my pores out in a small musty room at the Dark Odyssey camp. I had suddenly jumped into hamsterbrain mode about my upcoming visit to spend time…quite a bit of time…with The Dominant Guy and his wife, and what that would be like. More worrisome was my fretting about how to even begin to approach what seemed, to me, a Sisyphean task. This involved my being prepared to sit down, all three of us, and talk. About expectations and protocols and the day-to-day reality of my spending several weeks with them. And Other Important Things. And Stuff.

This makes my brain sweat and my stomach submit a request to evacuate.

I’ve never negotiated like this. I mean, in well over fifteen years, I’ve never had this serious a negotiation about a power-exchange relationship. Have I given endless amounts of thought to the topic? Yes, for certain. But negotiation of a relationship with someone who was married…and poly? Pfft. Fuck, up until last September I’d assumed being in a situation where having to negotiate poly as a monogamous-hearted person would NEVER happen. But here I am. With all of my anxiety, with all of my deep fears of being “less than” or “not enough” or “expendable” and, paradoxically,  all of my wide-eyed foolhardy optimism fighting it out, cage-match style, in Technicolor.

 

Well, or in HD. Might as well get with the modern times.

I tried to wrap my head around how to talk about what I needed without fearing the consequences if I learned I couldn’t get what I needed. I tried to accept that it was OK for me to be forthcoming about what I wanted. I tried to think of politic ways to approach it. To think of polite yet straightforward, diplomatic yet scrupulously honest ways to say some shit that was just sounding harsh to me, and hiccuping with anxiety about never even having the balls to actually do this. I emoed some random shit on Twitter and wondered, for the thousandth time that hour, if I was losing my fucking mind.

Then my phone rang.

One guess who it was.  (more…)

Late Notice but if you’re in The City (and yes, there can be only one) tomorrow night, wander on over to Brooklyn and join me as I talk about perverted shit.

I know, but really, you can’t get enough. Admit it.

Tiny Dangerous Fun happens at the Sycamore Bar in Brooklyn. Shaddup Manhattanites and get your asses on the goddamned train. Fuck.

Tuesday, June 28th, 8:00 PM, $10 at the door.  Be there or wank elsewhere.

“We are the ones who will hear,” said Phouchg, “the answer to the great question of Life….!”

“The Universe…!” said Loonquawl.

“And Everything…!”

“Shhh,” said Loonquawl with a slight gesture. “I think Deep Thought is preparing to speak!”

There was a moment’s expectant pause while panels slowly came to life on the front of the console. Lights flashed on and off experimentally and settled down into a businesslike pattern. A soft low hum came from the communication channel.

“Good Morning,” said Deep Thought at last.

“Er..good morning, O Deep Thought” said Loonquawl nervously, “do you have…er, that is…”

“An Answer for you?” interrupted Deep Thought majestically. “Yes, I have.”

The two men shivered with expectancy. Their waiting had not been in vain.

“There really is one?” breathed Phouchg.

“There really is one,” confirmed Deep Thought.

“To Everything? To the great Question of Life, the Universe and everything?”
“Yes.” (more…)

I have had a fucking crazy past month or so. And despite my usual puking all over the place about pretty much everything that happens, I’ve been oddly reluctant to post. There are several reasons for this.

First and foremost? I was reluctant to talk about some situations while I was still embroiled in them. I also try, as much as I can, to avoid discussing high-tension situations while they are still playing out. Also there was some shit for which I simply didn’t have words. And strangely enough? I am becoming more desirous of actually having a goddamned private life.

Go figure.

Anyway, this is what I will catch y’all up on.

My home life had deteriorated to a point where I dreaded going back to my own house. My protracted absences complicated an already tough situation, and I lost any sort of control over the maintenance of my house. My (now mercifully previous, and better for everyone it is.) cohabitants were entirely disinclined to keep up with maintenance of household duties, or to renegotiate a split of the bills, refusing to make the adjustment to a 2 way split even though I was gone for weeks and occasionally over a month at a time. I was paying not only for a space in which I wasn’t living but subsidizing outrageous utility bills for appliances I was not using.

Not awesome. (more…)