Sorry I couldn't post this last night; our internet was down, yet again. Anyway, I went to the poetry slam last night. Let's just say, I didn't do so great. It's really ridiculous how things work out in my life. At the last poetry slam, if you recall, I didn't realize how the whole thing worked and so I only brought one poem. Also, I was fucking terrified. At the end of the first round, which at the time I thought was the only round, I think I was in second place. Which obviously meant I would have gone on to the second round, if I'd had another poem with me. This time I actually had three poems and, shockingly, by the time I got up to read the first one I was really not all that nervous. So, naturally, I got the lowest score out of anyone and therefore didn't get to do my other two poems.
I had decided ahead of time to do what I thought was my least impressive poem first, because it would also be the least stressful. That way by the time I got to the end, I would be used to the whole thing, and might actually do okay with my longer, more intense poems. Apparently, this was the wrong tactic. Everyone else obviously did their best ones first, and went downhill from there. Here's the funny thing though. I really didn't care that much that I did so shittily. I mean, I was disappointed but not that disappointed. The other thing is, it was sort of one of those "face your fear" sort of situations. If I end up doing another one of these, I can't really do any worse than getting the lowest fucking score in the whole group. It's kind of nice.