there’s a lot that i could or should be doing right now. the bouncer really tried with the housecleaning while i was gone, but there’s things i could touch up. i have barely any food in the fridge (but 15% off seamless today, so what up sushi!). i have work i’m lagging on. and really, i just want to stalk the shit out of the people i’ve just come back from. even if i knew them already. and i thought to myself, your thoughts on this are so disorganized, dominique, you shouldn’t write anything until they come together. forgetting that writing is how i organize my thoughts.
many people went up on the last day and talked about what bisc meant to them. through so many of their speeches, i nodded along. yes. yes. yes. me too. and afterwards i was sitting in a small group of people and someone else said how much they were nodding along as well, and i said, “it’s so funny when you think of how much we are all the same.” and we are, guys. we think we are special snowflakes, but we are humans, we are fallible, we are prone to insecurity, anxiety, depression. i think to myself all of the time, when i am in the valleys, i think, “you can’t tell anyone about this because they will hate you. they will judge you and they will scorn you.” and, just, no. the answer to that is no, they won’t. and when i think that again, because i inevitably will, i will remember watching everyone speak, and how much the same we really are.
i didn’t share my story out loud. i didn’t, to be honest, feel like i would contribute anything of value – it follows the same plot points that most other people laid out. but this is my space, so, here. i think i actually did hear rumblings of the 2009 or 2010 bisc – i was nobody on the internet at that point, and i’d designed it that way. i saw that people were forming a community and they seemed really amazing, but i was a hardcore lurker, and convinced i didn’t have anything to contribute (are you seeing a theme here?). besides, they all seemed to be friends already and i had no place joining them. when it rolled around again in 2011, i wrestled with it. i hated my job at that point, i was desperate to break free of something, but i gave myself the excuse of money. with a plane ticket and spending money, i couldn’t justify almost $1000 for a four day vacation.
by 2012 i was here, in brooklyn with the bouncer and sophie, and i told him about it. he’s not an internet person, really, and he doesn’t fully grasp how so many of my close relationships have come from this place and still exist mostly here. i told him all about it, and told him how much i wanted to go and how i’d met a potential roommate. and how much it costs. and after a day or so of vacillating, i gave myself the money excuse again. laying in bed late on friday night after registration opened, he was talking about something and i was obviously distracted and he asked why. i apologized, and i told him that there were very few spots left and i was really sad to miss it. “so go,” he said. “if it’s the money that’s really stopping you, i’ll pay for it. but it sounds like this is something you really want, and that’s worth it. take a chance.” so i whipped out my computer and my card and i signed up.
i didn’t consider not getting on the plane – i’m too neurotic about plans (and money) for that. i did obsess over every single detail (how many coats of glitter polish before people think i’m crazy? i have to wear a bathing suit in front of people i actually want to like me? i don’t have any sequins and no one likes the girl without sequins. i can’t find anything perfect for the theme party and everyone will hate me.) and then i realized that none of it mattered as much as i thought it did. so this year, i honey badgered. i wore my bikini because i love the way my skin feels crisping in the skin, and because i wanted to. i talked to people i’ve wanted to meet for years, people who intimidated the crap out of me. i went on the activities i wanted to, i slept when i had to, i took down time when i needed it.
neither of my bisc trips were perfect. nothing is perfect. but i met incredible people. i danced my legs off. i felt fancy and beautiful. i made real, actual friends. i met people who give a fuck. and i am so, so grateful.