Monday evening I watched Boys Don't Cry, and why I felt I needed to see it this second time I'm not exactly sure. It's an incredibly important film and Hilary Swank is amazing, but it's also intensely painful. I went to bed depressed as hell. I could liken it to a Greek tragedy, where you know everything is not going to come out all right in the end, yet you still watch it so you can learn some greater object lesson or because you decided to major in the classics for some reason. Unlike Oedipus or Agamemnon, however, Brandon didn't really have what I would call a fatal flaw. His only crime was his commitment to his own identity in the midst of people who could only regard a woman living as a man as something to be feared and hated. Those people will never see this film, or, worse yet, they might see it and think the brutality Brandon experiences is in some way justified.

My hike for the week was a 7-mile loop in Briones Regional Park, and a more gorgeous Saturday morning I have not seen yet this year. The sun was shining, the hills were glowing iridescent green, the turtles were swimming, and the cows were fearless. I am officially addicted to hiking now, and I think doing it regularly is going to give me the energy to start fitting yoga back into my schedule as well. It pretty much fell by the wayside with the move and the breakup and all. Goodbye winter, hello spring! And have I mentioned recently how much I love living in the East Bay?

After boat sushi Saturday evening I bravely ventured over to the Tenderloin for Art Street Theatre's production of I Am Hamlet at Exit Stage Left. The conceit of this one-man show was that Hamlet finally gets a chance to tell his story after watching it performed by others for 400 years. There was a little theory and critique mixed in, but it was essentially Mark Jackson performing Hamlet by himself. He did a wonderful job of evincing the characters, with much humor and verve. The show only stumbled when dealing with the character of Ophelia. Every time he mentioned her name Jackson would heave a deep sigh and look pensive for a moment, thus showing us he felt really really bad about what happened to her. When Ophelia herself appeared unexpectedly at the end of the show for some sort of resolution with Hamlet, I was unimpressed. Still, it was an excellent show, and my car didn't get broken into while I was in the theater even though I'd been foolish enough to park it on the street. I just bought a round of Cokes for all the drunk men who were using it as a bench.

As part of my recent winter hermit stage I had been taking some time off from the local rave scene, but now I'm starting to ease back into it a little. After the play I went to Kelly's Mission Rock for Radiance's Bloom party, and as I stepped through a shower of flower petals I ran smack into Amber spinning some of her good stuff. I downed a Red Bull and vodka in a minute flat, and after that my memory of the night gets kinda blurry. I do recollect Kylie Minogue, fire dancers, and the most comfortable chill space ever. Beyond that, I'm not telling.

Sharing time is happy time
Surreptitious link to cute photo of me
Boys Don't Cry
Briones Regional Park
Exit Theatre
Amber