I should really start a 'Navel Gazing' category

I never wrote about Dar. So.

I guess what I wanted to write about wasn't really about Dar or the concert or the awesome opening act or how much I love that Dar wears sparkly dresses when she's performing.

Most of the time I was sitting in my seat thinking about what it means to be an Artist. Well, no, most of the time I was singing along and tapping my feet and hollering and being amused by the older man in front of me who was SO EXCITED when Dar busted out with 'As Cool As I Am'. But the less active part of me that likes to stay home in my brain and read Sharon Olds poetry was all, "Dude, people are singing along."

Because, when you think about it, people singing along is pretty wild. One day you are in your hotel room savoring your two free hours before sound check and you're not sure what city you're in and a song comes to mind and you scribble out the lyrics in a notebook and then things get busy and you have sound check and the show and the bus ride to the next city. But maybe a year or two afterwards, the words you thought up all by yourself in a little hotel room, those become the words to your Big Hit Song and suddenly, EVERYONE knows the words. Does that weird Dar out? That at the end of every show (at least the ones in Seattle), she starts the first chord to 'Iowa' and the audience cheers because it's their favorite song? That the audience is singing her words- no doubt very personal meaningful words because she IS a folk singer- that were once known only to her?  I am amazed at the process.

And I was a little jealous. For one thing, she is DAR. (I really can't think of another public-ish figure who can (and did), with one chirpy in-between-songs anecdote, convince me that I need to buy a biodiesel car. Like, tomorrow. And the Interior Decorators, owners of a two-year-old diesel vehicle are all, "HELLO? Have you MET our Jetta?") And for another she is a POET. And I am not. Seeeeeeethe.

(Actually, I am. I have one poem that I pretty much pulled out of my ass in time for my Advanced Poetry Class deadline and my teacher decided she would put in the journal she edits. Also, I am wearing a black turtleneck today.)

But. I am not a SINGER. And poets who also write music are in another class altogether. There's something about setting your words to a singable tune that make your thoughts so accessible. So one day Dar went shopping and was pissed off at the salespeople (something that happens to me EVERY DAY) and she went home and wrote about it and out came 'When I Was A Boy'. That NEVER happens to me. I go home and write a shoddy couple of lines that I then must throw away in order for life to continue on the planet. Or I write something stupid on my website. Or, most likely, I write a long tedious email to one of my friends who loves me enough to read it.

I suppose some people are just much better at expressing their Angst.

The other thing about the Dar show was that, as inadequate as I felt, I still really really really wanted to try.*

The other night I stayed late to help the Candidate do some of the mundane organizational stuff at which he is disturbingly horribly bad. Afterwards he wanted to know all about What Was Going On- my husband, my family, my house, my job, etc. etc. And about my job, he told me that when I was ready to "move on", to let him know.

I had a flash of, "Oooh, the Candidate thinks I could [insert Big Girl Big City Job here] and why the hell aren't I shooting for that?"

But I only smiled and said, "I'm okay right now. I'll let you know." Because how do you go about expressing Angst when you are wearing pointy shoes and lipstick and you're on the phone all day? Why carry a briefcase when you can be Dar?

That's just me. I don't know what I want to be when I grow up and "real" jobs grow less and less interesting to me. Actually, I think I do know what I want to be, but the Big Girl Big City Job seems infinitely more attainable than being the girl who stays home in her pajamas pounding out stories about precocious sixth graders or socially awkward junior high girls and getting them published and having other people in the world read the words she wrote.

*I do not mean, "try being a folksinger". I would look awesome in a sparkly dress, it's true, but I am lacking the hippie credentials, righteous anger, and, of course, a serviceable singing voice.