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Thursday, 7 April 2005 (never, never tell) 11:53pm Read at the Tranny Roadshow in Berkeley tonight. I performed well, honestly and openly. It felt like the first time I've really done that since The Vagina Monologues. More than that, I felt safe there, like I belonged. I don't think I would have felt that way anywhere else. Last | Top | Next

Wednesday, 6 April 2005 (magnetic north) 9:56am I'm at Unimatrix Zero, waiting for the plumber. He said he'd arrive sometime before noon to fix the leaky kitchen faucet. Maddy can't take the time off work, so here I am. It's not like I have much else to do. No internet access here yet, but that's okay. Never did hear back about the bed, after more than twenty-four hours. I'm taking that to mean I didn't get it. Jim has asked me to not only co-host at Bad Movie Night again this Sunday (for the unheralded Menahem Golan classic The Apple—on Betamax, no less!), he'd like me to be a regular, and even fill in as the main host when he can't be there. Evidently he and Ty first considered me to be their Charles Nelson Reilly, but upon further reflection settled on Jaye P. Morgan. For the life of me, I can't decide if that's an improvement or not. At least I'm not Paul Lynde. 11:20pm Hosted Retool & Grind tonight. I was half an hour late, which is actually improvement over the last show, which I missed entirely due to pneumonia. While the turnout was as sparse as ever, Heathen and Collette both attended with dates (other people, anyway), effectively doubling the audience. The show had been rescheduled to avoid going up against Gender Pirates, but the sporadic GenderEnders ended up being scheduled for the same evening. Oh well, it was worth a shot. In spite of the thin crowd, the venue likes us so we'll be back. I use the plural pronoun because although I'm technically the guest MC, I've been asked to host next month. Yay for regular hosting gigs which don't put genuine pressure on me. Last | Top | Next

Tuesday, 5 April 2005 (near and distant shores) 11:59am My job at the pr0n company begins on Monday, April 18. Located in San Francisco, three days a week, eight hours a day, eventually to become a full-time position. Not great, but better than anyone else is offering. I haven't done the math, but it probably works out to more than I was making when I drove every day to Sausalito to be psychologically abused by a nicotine-irradiated man. It's a start, anyway. All I can hope is that it won't be yet another false start. I kinda wish it was starting sooner, but at least I'll have next week to work on the apartment and stew in my emotional juices. Maddy should be mostly moved about by then. Meanwhile, I'm waiting to hear back about a free queen-sized bed which was advertised on Craigslist just after midnight, brought to my attention by my friend Lady Monster. I emailed them about it at a quarter to six this morning. Hopefully there weren't too many nocturnal furniture seekers. Either way, we're moving the current bed to Unimatrix Zero on Saturday. Last | Top | Next

Monday, 4 April 2005 (das erscheinen muss weitergehen) 11:05am I just heard back from the pr0n company. They didn't exactly say I'm hired, but they didn't wish me luck in my job hunt, either. (Oooh, I hate that. It riles me almost as much as when panhandlers say God Bless You when I walk by without giving them money.) They said I should hear back either this afternoon, or first thing tomorrow. The jobhunting will continue until then. This morning I applied for a job which is not only around the corner from Maddy's office and therefore a few blocks away from her new apartment, but would have the same hours as her job. Hell, we could have lunch together, or I could go to her place and to see Oscar and Mina. Considering that irony is the one universal constant, that's probably the job I'll get. 1:46pm The Ex tells me there's an opening at her store in Berkeley. An intriguing idea, but I'm not quite desperate enough to commute to Berkeley for a retail job. I haven't tried giving blowjobs on Capp yet, after all. 9:00pm Rumor has it the decision at the pr0n company will be made tomorrow. Until then, nothing is known. Last | Top | Next

Sunday, 3 April 2005 (fiefdom reversal) 9:18pm Thanks to Lynnee donating the use of his van, Cindy offering to drive the behemoth and help with the (literally) heavy lifting, and the generosity of friends, Maddy's new apartment is now mostly furnished. Snazzy-looking desk and two bookcases courtesy of Taos and her boyfriend, a recliner, and a kitchen table with four chairs. The place is coming together. Still a lot of work to do, though, including moving the bed and the aquarium and any of a number of tiny little things. I got the bed from my mother a couple years ago, on a midnight commando drive to Fresno with Lynnee. Coincidentally, after The Ex and I broke up she kicked me out the bed for a while. Her logic was that since we'd gotten it from her parents, it was her property. That's one point of view, I suppose. I finally wrote the rest of my family to tell them about the breakup. My father was considerably more sympathetic than my mother. Makes sense, really, since he's been a bit of the homewrecker in the past. His slate is not clean, and he knows it. Neither is mine. Last | Top | Next

Saturday, 2 April 2005 (watch me burn) 6:50am Being unemployed is harsh, especially right after ending a long-term relationship. Still, I'm all about the bright sides, so I take solace in the idea that not having to go downtown regularly this week means I don't have to look at the cover of the SF Weekly, one of most unpleasant things I've seen in a long time. If that tiny graphic doesn't really get the point across, take a look at the movie poster it's taken from. (Which, I might add, is my candidate for the Worst Big Scary Head Poster since The Patriot.) Rosario Dawson is an attractive woman, but you wouldn't be able to tell by looking. With all due respect to friends of mine who are fond of the image, it's even worse than the Jessica Alba poster for the same film. I've never actually seen her in a movie, but for pete's sake, is the woman ever going to be featured on a poster which doesn't emphasize her midriff? Does her talent begin and end with her navel? At least her eyes are visible this time, unlike the poster for her her last movie, in which it looks like her eyes were poked out and she needs a full body cast. Seriously. Tell me it doesn't look like half the bones in her upper body are broken, and she's too doped up on morphine to care. But I digress. What bothers me about the Rosario Dawson ad isn't just that it tells you absolutely nothing about the film. Hell, that's just our celebritarian culture wallowing in its idol worship. It's the thing she's doing with her tongue. When did that become sexy? I realize my wiring is fux0red, but am I the only one grossed out by that? Did I miss a meeting or something? What really worries me is the thought of it becoming a trend, as evidenced by banner ads like this. (Click at your own risk, but if you surf pop-culture sites like Fametracker, you've probably seen it.) Even beyond the fact that I simply find the curled-tongue image gross, maybe it's just my feminazi side reacting to the blatant reduction of women to little more than body parts. Yeah, I know. Welcome to the concept of the fetish. To a great deal of men, women are little more than tits and a mouth, so why advertise more than that? (Vaginas can't yet be shown in ads, but wait another decade or so.) Besides, it's been going on for millennia—the world's oldest profession isn't whoring, it's pimping—and isn't going away so long as the economy is ruled by testosterone. Ergo, it's never going away. By the way, none of my objections have to do with children, with the notion that children need to be protected from images of sexuality. What children can and cannot see isn't my problem. This is about what I find icky. 9:14pm Today was all about the packing and moving, as the rest of the week will be. Maddy wants to be out of the Cozycave and into her new apartment (which she's dubbed Unimatrix Zero) by the tenth of April. To that end, I've asked KROB to cover my radio show on Monday, and I've cancelled on the Tranny Roadshow on Friday. I'm still hosting Re-Tool & Grind on Wednesday and performing in the Tranny Roadshow on Thursday in Berkeley. Figures this would be during an unusually busy week for me. But, well, I pulled the plug, did I not? Besides, there's no such thing as optimal conditions. I got a call on Friday afternoon in response to one of the many resumes I'd sent out that day. It was from one of the few companies which really sound interesting, as opposed to just better than being homeless and/or getting a sharp stick to the eye. The call was very preliminary, a phone pre-interview, nothing to get my hopes up about. When getting scolded by my mother about the breakup, I tried to score a few points by saying (truthfully) that, unlike certain other members of our family, my current woes have nothing to do with drugs. It didn't seem to help much, any more than the fact that I was a recent college graduate making thirty-eight thousand a year made her any less woeful of me when I broke up with The Ex. In those terms I have far less going on for me, but damnit, at least I'm clean and slobber. To use Lynnee's phrase. Which, unfortunately, I used with talking to my mom. That probably didn't help. It's true, though. I don't see myself smoking grass anytime soon. I'm just barely keeping the panic and paranoia at bay as it is. Last | Top | Next

Friday, 1 April 2005 (backchanneling) 2:46pm I just filled out the notorious Borders online application. Its notoriety stems from the unexplained inclusion of the Myers-Briggs Personality Test, which asks you to agree or disagree (strongly or otherwise) with several zillion statements, including such non sequiturs as "It's maddening when the court lets guilty criminals go free." Actually, that one doesn't quite fit with the other questions, which focus on one's ability to deal with pressure and groups, often asking the same question over and over with slightly different phrasing. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. And I know good and well that I have not even scratched the surface of "doing what I have to do to survive." Not even close. sometime after midnight coma white is dead. Last | Top | Next