processing #bisc. probably part 1.

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. ย 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. ย and i am so, so grateful.

15 thoughts on “processing #bisc. probably part 1.

  1. I didn’t get to spend as much time with you as I’d have liked to, but I want you to know that meeting you was so wonderful and you’re a special snowflake, if you like it or not.

    1. I’m with San on this one, you ARE special. I am so fucking lucky that I got paired up with you to be my last-minute roommate. โ™ฅ

    2. yep I third all of this. I didn’t get to spend that much time together with you, but you are the loveliest. Love this post so much.

  2. I am so glad that you had such a experience. You need to have more of these. Since we met I have always known that you are very special and keenly unique. Individuals like yourself tend to have such feeling so seeing other heads nod in unison is a feeling I know all to well. I hope you always remember that sensation.

  3. Dude, I just want to lick your face so hard. And cuddle you. And whisper sweet motivational nothings in your ear that will be so filled with excitement and love that they’ll turn into somethings. I WANT TO TELL YOU ALL THE SOMETHINGS, you gorgeous, ferocious, bright, compelling woman, you. I could not be happier that we met. Because our future together? Is just starting.

    Also, I don’t care how creepy this comment makes me sound. WE’RE GOING TO HAVE THE EQUIVALENT OF A FRIENDSHIP MARRIAGE. So start tagging shit at Bed, Bath & Beyond for our registry. <3

  4. We don’t travel to BiSC to form a community, we go there to learn or remind ourselves that the community that’s always been here, on our screens, is real.

    And there ain’t nothin’ like the real thing. Amirite?

  5. My fairy BiSC-mother! I’m so glad to have met you this trip. I’m going to try to be less of a lurker and more of a participator, because after having met you (and all the others) in person, this feels the way I always wanted it to – like interacting with friends.

  6. I’m SO glad you came. And so glad that you live a short train/bus ride away. I promise the next time we hang out I won’t drag you to a random bar and then complaining about having to walk home…

    or will i? Either way, you are delightful and I’m so happy to have met you!

  7. From burgers at Holstein’s… to burgers at Holstein’s again… I had a good time hanging with you ๐Ÿ™‚ I’m glad we’ve formed a collective that gives a fuck about each other โ€” it’s something we could use a hell of a lot more of where I’m from, but hey. I’ll work on that.

    There will be a day where I’ll visit NYC again (I mean, come on, it’s like an hour’s flight and I love the hell out of that city) โ€” and when that happens, I’ll be hollering at the BK for you to come out and play, so don’t think for a second that you didn’t make an impression on me in just a matter of days ๐Ÿ™‚

    Let’s do this friendship thing.

  8. Not only are you fancy and beautiful, you’re wicked smart, hilarious and delightfully unfiltered. If you ever have any questions about the Mets, or want to go to a baseball game. I’m just a tweet away. You know this ๐Ÿ™‚

  9. I always figured I wasn’t cool enough to fit in with the cool kids who attended #BiSC, at least in the beginning, but I’m so glad I got over that bullshit and went because it really is the most amazing and welcoming group of people I’ve ever encountered, and I’m so glad it brought you into my life.

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