Ok, so I had one of the most backwards, demeaning experiences today that I haven't had in a long time.

Basically, this morning I was doing the second and last half of this Dramaturgy workshop (dramaturgy is basically the art of guiding the playwright to their vision). I took the workshop so that I could self-dramaturg my show "Free?" and improve the script in time for all these shows I am doing in the next few months. Plus I wanted to learn about how to help my friends and colleagues dramaturg their scripts. It wasn't an expensive workshop, but I did spend money on it and I really treated the workshop like an investment.

Anyway, so two weeks ago, during the first part of the workshop, we were supposed to swap scripts with someone else in the workshop and employ the "dramaturgical process" on it and meet today with our results. It was mostly for practice. None of us were experienced dramaturgs yet. The process before meeting with the writer is really interesting. It consists of reading the script, making notes, listing reactions, questions for clarifications, sharing research that might inspire the writer, and then finally making suggestions.

And of course, as my luck has it, I get this old white guy, who is like 90 years old or something to swap scripts with. Let's call this guy "Gramps" to make storytelling easier (because if he got to be inadvertantly racist today, then I get to be ageist). Gramps is a nice guy. Friendly. Smart. And as soon as I knew that this guy was going to "test-dramaturg" my script, my alarms went off. I knew he wouldn't get it. But I gave him the benefit of the doubt. After all, the point of the workshop is that we were all learning.

Already my script was very hard to understand because it's not really in play or screenplay format. It's a performance art piece, and a lot of the piece exists in visuals and because I am performing it, there are a lot of things that are not really apparent in the script to the reader. My script basically looks like an outline.

So I went through the script with Gramps before letting him run with it for the two weeks until we met again. I tried to explain to the best of my ability what was going on visually. Explained that it is a solo piece. I know what my problems are. The points where I wanted to focus on fixing. There are two sections of the piece I wanted to improve the writing of. And I asked that he looked at those in particular. He seemed to understand everything I explained. And I sent him off.

So today, we meet and he shares his notes. Now we don't even follow the process we are instructed to follow. In the process, the writer is supposed to be the one who does most of the talking. And Gramps seemed to like to spending the hour not listening to me and going on and on about what he knows about Chinese people. I found myself in the hour that we talked about my script not covering anything that I wanted to tackle and instead listening to him tell me who I am supposed to be as a Chinese person. I spent the hour forced to look at being Chinese from this objective perspective and become the "tour guide to my culture" to this guy. ARGH!!!!

He started by telling me how he knows a lot of Chinese people because the school he teaches at is 60% Asian. This was totally unnecessary.

My script isn't about being Chinese. I kept explaining this to Gramps. It is in the sense that I am a Chinese person and part of the story is autobiographical. But my intention isn't to "show you my culture" type bullshit. And I kept telling Gramps that I am not trying to create the "definitive Asian American story" show. But he proceeded to tell me what "factoids" I dropped in my script resonated with what he knows about Asian people. He kept telling me that my script should explore how my parents wanted me to be a doctor and all this crap that was irrelevant to the what I was interested in saying.

There is a section of my script about the SARS scare here and the inter-ethnic xenophobia Asians placed on Asians. And Gramps starts talking about how he wasn't scared to travel in China. Then talked about why the flu comes from China. Then he tried to play "anthropologist" and talk about why my parents have a different attitude about SARS than people from China. Hello? Gramps? I know this shit already because I wrote it.

and... LIKE I CARE if you went to China!

We didn't get to work on any of the issues in the script that I was concerned with because the whole time I felt like I had to justify parts of my "culture" that were not even relevant to my purpose in writing the script. I found myself explaining all this crap that was getting me nowhere but satisfied his "knowledge" of "Asian culture." He made me talk about language and customs, and my parents. What the hell? What did any of this have to do with my script?

He typed notes for me. Some of them read...

Overall impressions:

Kristina is caught in many cross-cultural tug of wars. Theme of piece: Kristina searching for her identity. Chinese vs. American, Feminine vs. Masculine, SF vs. LA. She feels American, but somehow she realizes others don't always see her that way, and really she doesn't see herself that way. doesn't feel much affinity to the real China, but has spent a good eal of her life in the Chinese-American miz."

A nice item would be Kristina's experience with a real born in Mainland China guy where she would realize the chasm between his and her cultures. Kristina: How many real Chinese guys have you met? I think this experience would be both funny and informative.

What the fuck!?!? I wish people would get over the fact that a performance by an Asian American is not always about this false binary Asian homeland vs. American bullshit. I wish I could have been more assertive in saying, "Gramps. You are pissing me off right now. You don't get it. And we need to end this conversation right now before I slug you in your face." But he was so old, that I didn't have the heart to stop him.

I know what I am interested in thematically, why do white people in these writing groups or whatever try to screw with my themes thematically, instead of helping me stylistically? Is it because they don't have style? What is up with white people? Word to all white people who I may meet in a writing group years from now... please stay away from the themes of my work, and stop imposing the themes you think that I am trying to explore, and do what you are supposed to do... help me find a way to make the writing clearer.

Goddamit.

Anyway.... on to the rest of my life.

Remember my scathing Aaron Perez story from an earlier update? During Christmas break, thanks to friendster.com, I tracked Aaron down and scolded him for being such a shitty dance date in high school. He is now working as a mechanic (hence his ensemble). He wrote and apologized for being such a cocky guy in high school and offered to take me to breakfast. He also got a kick of my story about him on this site. So the pic above is after we ate and caught up with life. I told him I would put this pic on my site and clear his name to the public! So here it is...Aaron Perez-- you are a good guy!

Here is me and Aaron like over 10 years ago at a dance in high school. He had more hair then. And my hair was longer. And no, I am not choking.

Ok, so... I haven't been a very good HERMIT. I went to New Orleans last week for this fresh ass conference. And for the next few months, I will be doing quite a bit of travelling. So yeah, I went to a conference... It was mostly an excuse to go to New Orleans. I felt so independent and cool. I rode a bike while tipsy and explored the city on my own. And ate really greasy delicious food. I am so badass! Check out my pics below!

	My first night in I went to a local bar in the Bywater district called "Vaughns." I saw this Asian guy walk in and I freaked out! Someone who looked like me in the middle of the dirty South! I had to take a picture with him! He was stunned silent. Later I learn that New Orleans has the 2nd largest population of Vietnamese Americans. So maybe I shouldn't have freaked out so much when I saw him. Check out how I am double fisting drinks.
	I was so excited to be there at this local bar I took pics with all the people I could find. Here are two of them. What is fresh about this bar is that when the band takes a break they whip out food and feed everyone.
	New Orleans is so lawless. I am convinced everyone there is going to die of a heart attack, lung cancer, or liver disease by 30. I didn't eat a vegetable until my second day there! Happy hour is 24 hours a day on Bourbon Street. At 2pm I slipped into this bar on Bourbon Street to sing Welcome to the Jungle. Now that's my kind of town! Afternoon Karaoke!
	This is Gloria. She hosted me for a night. She has a fresh lawn. Look, it's sprinkled with Mardi Gras beads. She loaned me her bike which I rode all over New Orleans. She's so cool.
	This is a soft shell crab po' boy sandwich that I ate in one sitting! Yum! It was so expensive-- $14! But the restaurant says you can't tip, so I saved money there. And this sandwich was the bomb diggity! I ate so much, and as a result, I had to use the bathroom a lot! Like every few hours.
	Do you remember my update from Burningman? I love taking pictures with bikes! Bike riding makes me feel powerful and sexy! I don't ride a bike in LA because it's dangerous and I sure as hell never rode a bike in SF because the hills are impossible for wimpy ol' me. I love riding bikes through flat surfaces. Here I am in front of famous "Mother's Restaurant." This is where I ate that po' boy sandwich.
	Here is another fresh ass picture of me riding the bike along the Mississippi River. Hell yeah! Look at my cool Fluevog boots! The girl who took my pic complimented me on my cool shoes which my performance artist friends all chipped into buy for me!
	I coerced Phloe who went to the conference, to borrow a bike from a local and and come biking about town with me at night. She didn't like it so much. I thought we were cool like a bike gang. I kept screaming "WE ARE A BIKE GANG!" through the street as we biked along, but she didn't get with it. She complained that she was hungry, tired, and got sick the next day. I guess it didn't help that I made a wrong turn on Bourbon Street on our bikes and she got groped by all these nasty frat boys.

So currently I am dealing with a big pain in the ass roach problem. In my two years living in this apartment I have never had a roach problem. I don't know how they got in here. I don't get how roaches know how to walk up stairs, walk through a front door, through the living room, and into the kitchen. They are living between the stove and the counter. I tried to seal them off with this silicone sealant but every time I cook the sealant melts and they come out to play. It's freaking gross. I can't stand it. I guess I have to go buy poison next and kill them with it.

I am going to Hawaii for the first time ever in two weeks for my friend's wedding. I am so excited! Don't ask how all this is being financed. I have been doing insane ebaying the past few weeks. Many of my friends have been dropping off bags of stuff on my doorstep for me to sell. It's kind of funny. I haven't been doing so bad. I'm turning an ok profit. If you have bags of stuff to sell, drop them off at my house!

I guess I'm not much of a hermit huh?

See you later,

The ex-hermit, Kristina

ps... LADIES... check out my friend BERNARD!