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Monday, 31 March 2008 (keep talking) 3:32pm Going with Ennui to Ask Dr. Hal, so far as I know. I'd originally planned on going to the St. Stupid's Day march tomorrow, and had even requested the day off from work, but I've decided against it. Might as well save my Paid Time Off for more pressing matters. Besides, Sadie and I decided mutually not to go.
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Sunday, 30 March 2008 (the distribution of the key) 5:56pm
I just saw a guy piddling onto a telephone pole on 18th between Mission and Capp. I'm now officially back in San Francisco.
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Friday, 28 March 2008 (a dry heat) 11:36am I was feeling fine (and looking finer, oh my yes) after the squidtightening last night, so I decided to make the Fresno drive. We were officially on the road at ten, and made it to Fresno by half past one. Perdita had plenty to say for the first couple of hours, but by the second half she'd mellowed out considerably and only occasionally snarked at me. I think it helped that her carrier was pointed towards me, so she could see me during the trip. At first she reached her paws through the cage door to get at me—claws out, from stress rather than malicious intent—but by the end I was able to stick my fingers in for her to nuzzle. An adaptable one, she is. Gets it from my side of the family. She adjusted quite well to the strange bedroom, sleeping next to me as she always does at home. She's had a couple of standoffs with my mother's dog, and because of the pet door on the far side of the house I'm mostly keeping Perdita in the bedroom with the door shut so I can concentrate on other things (like writing, which is a lot of the reason I came here), but I'd daresay the travel experiment has been a success. 11:58am Things lead to things lead to other things, and the fun part is, you can never guess where or what. Nothing is more mysterious than fate and/or consequence. Like, when I invited Ennui to go with me on KROB's first Drive-Out Theater in January, I wasn't even sure if she was going to enjoy it at all. But she did, and a few Mondays later as we as we lay cuddled in the back of Chicken John's bus, she said: this is what i want to do for my birthday. And so it was that on the Ides of March, we were again on the bus with a bunch of her friends (Edie, Jack, Jessie and a whole host of others), heading to Santa Cruz for her birthday. As Ennui had predicted, only us braver souls removed our footwear and made use of the mattressed back half, and most everyone else was in the front half of the bus on the seats and benches, including Jessie and Jack. I was conscious of my place in the significant-other pecking order, and had hoped that KrOB could come along so that I'd have someone to talk to, but he was out of town. Chicken, then. But as Ennui had also predicted, Jack and Jessie spent most of the trip hanging out with other people, and she knows I'm the especially tactile/cuddly/needy one, so she was happy to have me hang out with her on the trip. Edie was back there a lot as well, being as touchy-feely as I am, and her and I frequently flank-cuddled Ennui, also making sure to have a hand or a digit on the other. Thunderstorms had been predicted, complete with the little lightning icon on sfgate. I don't know if it rained in San Francisco that day or not, but it didn't on the route we took to Santa Cruz, and we obviously just missed the rain when we arrived. The streets were shiny, and the cars all looked liked they'd just been washed. I suspect this is why Chicken didn't have too much trouble finding a place to park, even though it was the touristy area on a Saturday: people don't exactly rush to the Boardwalk during thunderstorms. With the possible exception of the arcade. Unlike the last time were there, it was packed, as any arcade should be on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Ennui had wanted us to play air hockey, but the two tables never opened up. Our generic Pong machine was available, so we played best-two-out-of-three. (She says Pong is her favorite game, gods love her.) We also played a few dollars' worth of Aliens: Extermination, and discovered the shooting gallery to be a raging disappointment, not in concept but in execution—the lighting in the place was all wrong. Damn, though, it felt good to hold that shotgun. Like a gangster, or something. We continued on out of the arcade with an entourage of a few people in tow. Eventually winding up at the Fright Walk. Five bucks a pop, so we gave it a shot. (I paid for her, of course, as I had at the arcade and for the basket of garlic fries we got later. It's only right, and this felt like the most traditionally date-like thing we'd ever do, even moreso than dinner and a movie.) A haunted house, it was actually a lot of fun. The employee assured us before going in that nothing would hurt or even touch us, but as Ennui pointed out, one of the William Castle-esque skeletons-coming-out-of-the-wall would have hit us if we hadn't ducked. Just made it more fun, I thought. They achieved a really nice sense of dread, and in the low-lit mirrors my squid always looked extra-spooky and jarring. Elements of it reminded me of the last twenty of minutes of House of 1,000 Corpses. When Ennui said she'd never seen that movie, I put towards the top of our must-watch list. (Maddy would no doubt consider that a victory for her.) My favorite aspect was that the mural outside was obviously a generic tropical scene which had been repainted to be spooky. We only had an hour and a half in Santa Cruz before we had to return to San Francisco, but it was just right. As is so often the case, the real highlight was the journey, not the destination. On the drive back, Ennui encouraged me to use Chicken's PA to make an announcement about The Ten Commandments, so I did. Edie sounded particularly interested. The only real plan for the rest of the evening otherwise was to go to Chez Badunkadunk, a monthly strip club held above the Cat Club. The bus returned to Ritual at almost seven on the dot, and I made it to The Dark Room at a quarter past seven, in plenty of time. I went straight into Jim and Erin's room to change, while the rest of the cast was getting dressed in the Green Room. It reminded me quite a bit of high school, where I was often closer to the teachers than the other students. And adulthood, as I've observed, is really just high school writ large. Makes me feel all the sorrier for home-schooled kids (as Maddy's nephew may be by now)—they really have no idea what they're in for in the real world. As was my wont, I frequently peeked through the backstage curtains before the show started to check out the audience. I saw Maddy, who was more there to see her current boyfriend in the cast than her ex-girlfriend, but I was still glad she made it. I didn't see Edie or anyone else from the bus, but that was okay. I'm not as easily hurt by such things as I once was. With very few exceptions, my friends don't come to shows, and that's that. Some girlfriends have been habitual no-shows as well. For the opening weekend one of my duties in the play had been to corral the rest of the cast for scenes which required us to shout things in unison from backstage, usually gathered around a mic. I didn't volunteer to do so, instead having it thrust upon me. It didn't agree with me at all, and by the second weekend I was happily relieved of the responsibility. As a result, I got to watch most of the play peeking through the curtains off stage right. I've always enjoyed seeing plays several times at The Dark Room, and they usually got better every time I saw them, both because I developed favorite moments and because casts naturally improve with time. (With the occasional exception, of course. I was only a regular at the play Vash acted in a couple years ago because she was in it. Otherwise, once would have been enough. But I loved her, so I was there.) I had a pretty good view without being visible to the audience, a closer look at certain aspects of the performances than even the people in the front row. It was quite a privilege, especially to study the nuances of the actors playing Moses, Ramses and Nefertiri, all of whom have acting chops I can't even aspire to. And that's okay. It's more their thing than mine. I usually peeked through the backstage curtain again during intermission to see if anyone knew had showed up, or if we'd lost numbers, and just if people looked like they were enjoying themselves at all. The crowd looked to be in good spirits, and the place was mostly full, and by god, sitting in front of and a seat or two to the left of Maddy was Ennui! With Jack and her bandmate Rob, who'd also come with her to the dress rehearsal. I didn't see Edie or anyone else, but it was new to Jack, but Ennui and Rob were seeing it for the second time, paying for it, on the night of her birthday (observed). I felt more than a little touched. Ennui met me backstage after the show. (Maddy was there as well, so they finally got to meet, after having heard quite a bit about the other.) She said the Chez Badunkadunk plans were still on, and I was welcome to join them. I said yes. In fact, I would have said yes regardless of where she wanted to go. We met up with Edie and a few others across the street for a burrito at Cancun—the first substantial food I'd had all day—and then divided up into two cabs and headed to the Cat Club. Except it wasn't at the Cat Club anymore, according to the bouncers at the venue in question. For reasons I never quite caught, it had moved to a considerably more private location down the street. After perhaps unwisely attempting to open unmarked doors in an alley, we found the new entrance. It was being held in someone's artist-loft-apartment thingy. Though it was advertised as starting at ten, it was nowhere near close to being ready when we arrived at half past. That's City life for you. The sound system was still being setup and debugged, and there was much gnashing of teeth over an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to install a stripper pole. The dancers were slowly trickling in, and Ennui pointed out one whom she'd received a lapdance from once. After that, they briefly dated. (Good heavens, how many men have that fantasy?) It was brief because the dancer was a little freaked out by the "open relationship" thing. Understandable. I also recognized a dancer who had been at the Masturbate-a-Thon the year before, a goth girl who bore a striking resemblance to Imani. (As many goth strippers do, now that I think about it.) Even casually, she dressed the way I would if I could, if my body were much, much smaller. I wasn't attracted to her per se. I just wanted her body to be mine. The same story, told many times. There were chairs set up around where the pole would have presumably been, a main chair for the girls to get their Sally Bowles on, and a three-seater couch. Ennui and I sat on the couch, me in the middle and Ennui to my right. A little while later we were joined by a woman with short black hair. She was quiet at first, but started opening up, especially because I was in one of my more genial moods and kept talking to her and introducing her to the rest of our group. Her name was Devi, and she said that she was there to meet someone, but didn't have high hopes. And, of course, she was there to watch pretty girls take off their clothes. Which happened intermittently, in between what I gathered were constant technical snafus. It was pretty standard stuff, the dancer usually starting working with middle chair, eventually making her way to the couch. Devi observed that Ennui was a chick magnet, and she was right: the first several strippers went straight to Ennui. They would usually at some point lay across all three of our laps, but their primary focus was Ennui. Every time, Devi and I would turn to each other and say chick magnet! The notable exception was the dancer whose act involved honey and glitter. (Just one of many gimmicks. One girl held lit matches on her nipple piercings, and another had Ennui pour candle wax on her chest.) Her partner poured honey on her ass, then slapped it. I know a lot of people dig it, but that's never been my thing. I don't get the appeal of large asses. But I digress. Anyway, glitter was also involved. After getting all nice and messy, she came straight to the couch, and straight to me, her fingers out: would you like to lick it off? In fact I don't like honey didn't want to lick it off, but there was no way I was going to say that. By the time she was done, me, Ennui and Devi all had splattered bits of honey and glitter on our clothes and skin. Ennui went to the restroom to wash up, but I didn't want to get up just then. I had done so earlier to dance, though. There really wasn't much else going, I was in the mood, and I was enjoying the music, which reminded me vaguely of "Love Will Tear Us Apart." It wasn't, but it had that same trilling organ sound. So, I got up and danced, and soon most everyone else was, too. Devi didn't, telling me that she simply didn't dance at all. I tried to gently persuade her, but didn't force the issue. My glasses were off and it was fairly dim in the room, but even sitting six feet away as she was, I could tell she was watching me. The DJ announced that he was taking requests, so I asked for "Love Will Tear Us Apart." It was one of exactly two (2) goth-dance-clubby kinds of songs I could think of, my brain otherwise being completely devoid of such knowledge at that moment. After "Love Will Tear Us Apart" came to an end, and I'd noticed that nobody else had made any requests, I asked for the one other song I knew existed, "How Soon Is Now?" Which he had, and obligingly played. Ennui danced for a few songs, then returned to the couch. Edie and I bumped-and-grinded a little, and when she turned her fuller attentions to Jack, I went to Edie and made out with her briefly before resuming dancing. I could tell she was already starting to drift. It had been a long day. Hell, I was surprised by how much energy I had, considering that on top of everything else I'd been in The Ten Commandments that evening. Inertia's a powerful thing. This being San Francisco, the turnout was considerably more respectable after midnight. Devi and I observed the newcomers and made snarky comments to each other when appropriate, like about the fellow who had the most rodential face of anyone I've seen since Summer's ex-boyfriend Krycek. Then there was the older gentlemen, easily pushing seventy, who was surely in his fifth decade of attending strip shows. Probably frequented the North Beach clubs back in the day. (As I know my own father did.) As if to demonstrate, after putting a bill in one of the dancer's g-strings, he slapped her on the ass. Damn. That's old-school. Devi observed me mumbling and making a gesture with my hand, and asked what it was. Mildly embarrassed, I told her the truth: that was me talking to myself. i was trying to work up the courage to ask if i can kiss you. Well, there it was. No guts, no glory. Seeming more confused than anything else, Devi replied: but you're here with your girlfriend. A valid point, especially since for most of the evening my hand had been on Ennui's leg. i am, yes, but we're open. Edie was sitting on the arm of the couch, her arm around Ennui. and she's okay with it. don't know if you noticed before, but edie was totally macking on ennui just a moment ago, and edie was making out with ennui's boyfriend jack on the dance floor earlier. it's kinda what this group does. jack's a good kisser, but, you know, he's a boy, and try though i might, i just can't get it into it. Devi said she had think about it. Fair enough. It doesn't feel like a brushoff (of which I've experienced more than a few in my time) so much as her needing to process the situation. When Edie and Ennui started making out again, and I wanted to nudge Devi—who was rather entranced by the current dancer—and say see? see? toldja! but decided against it. A little while later, Devi offered to buy me a drink. I accept, and tell her to just get two of whatever she's having. She returns with rum and Cokes. Working out of habit as much as anything else, I ask how much I owe her, and she replies: nothing! i bought you a drink! Sheepishly, I say: right. yeah. duh. sorry. just checking. Fortunately, she laughed. We snuggle in a little closer, not holding hands or anything but arm against arm, leg against leg, a consensual opening of ther personal space. (Unlike, say, on a crowded bus.) Though the temptation becomes stronger as I drink more, I don't make the first move. Well, second move, since the first move was arguably when I asked to kiss her. And Devi's obviously feeling increasingly comfortable with me, as we exchange more direct flirts, compliments about the other's appearance and so forth. She seemed especially intrigued with my hair, and I somehow manage to correctly pronounce cotton candy-colored cranial squid, which is enough a tongue-twister when I'm sober. Not that I'm drunk, exactly. Just a bit buzzed, which is how I like it, especially when I have pretty girls on either side. At one point I turn to Ennui and say i've been flirting with her all night long. She just smiled that smile of hers, one which I've come to realize is a poker face as much as anything else. Her body language told me she really wasn't long for this world, though. While Devi and I were talking about my hair, I told her I was getting some red put in soon, and she replied: maybe if i get your number, i can see it after it's done?" then: how's that for direct? pretty good, huh? I laughed and told her I was already planning on getting her contact info, so it was nice to see we were on the same page. Eventually it was time to leave. Devi gave me her business card, then took my head in her hands and drew me close for a kiss. It's nice, and we keep going back in for more, even as I'm standing. Then a hug, and I'm gone, back to Cassandra. We've emailed and texted some since then, but haven't gotten together yet. It'll happen, or it won't.
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Thursday, 27 March 2008 (streaming again) 5:30pm
I'm at the Love 'n Haight Deli. Just outside, there's a small, Paul Addis-like man who's raging and stomping at someone in an apartment
up above, shouting about his five-hundred dollar bike. It's rather unsettling, as anything involving a Paul Addis-like man is wont to be.
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Wednesday, 26 March 2008 (a bleached shadow) 11:17am
I just talked to the producer of an online fetish documentary series. Seem they're considering doing an episode about the Power Exchange, and I'm one of the few people they knew who was knowledgeable about the place and didn't have an axe to grind against it, so they bounced a few questions off of me. If the episode gets produced, there's a chance I'll be interviewed for it. Ah, life. It's just so fucking weird.
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Tuesday, 25 March 2008 (veteran of a race that should be over) 3:16pm
My original plan after work yesterday was to swing by my apartment to get some stuff I'd forgotten that morning, and then head to Ennui's. As I drove toward my building, I noticed Their new truck backed in the driveway, which is never a good sign, what with it increasing the likelihood of Them being home. Closer inspection revealed that the middle window on the garage door was broken, and sticking out of the back the truck were several long boxes, the ends of which were at the height of the broken windows. Worse, the front gate was open, which meant They were surely buzzing about. Frack it. While I'm getting better about crossing Their path—I took some pleasure the other day in not acknowledging Their presence at all, even after the Man said hell—I was in no mood to deal with Them, especially not when the Man was probably agitated from having just broken the window and all. I figure it was Him, since I've never seen the Woman driving. So I drove on to pick up Ennui, and we went into the Mission.
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Monday, 24 March 2008 (swimming in the messy surroundings) 9:53am The final night of The Ten Commandments was damn near perfect. It's the show that should have been taped, but Puzzling Evidence wasn't able to make it, so like most things it's disappeared into the aether. As, I suppose, it should. The cast party afterward was nice and low-key, and Ennui did make it, with her boss in tow. They were only able to stay for about twenty minutes, but it was good to see her all the same. As I knew it would, it feels weird that the play is over. Suddenly, bam! It's three months later. Almost April. When did that happen? I picked up Ennui Sunday morning, and we went to brunch at Miller's East Coast West Delicatessen. I've been wanting to take her there for a while because I like it and she's a foodie, and Easter morning seemed like the perfect time. I ordered mostly from memory, and we shared an egg cream, potato knish, big sour pickle, and the whitefish plate. I totally forgot about the sour green tomatoes, but that's okay. Something for next time. From there, we spent most of the day in Dolores Park for the Sisters' big Easter shindig, the majority of which we couldn't see from where we were sitting. Jezebel was there with some friends, and we chatted for a bit. Ennui meeting Jezebel felt not unlike characters from two different books interacting. Ennui's boss also hung out with us for a bit. Since the City is tiny socially, I talked to him for a bit about the piece of Vash's art that he purchased during the Open Studios exhibition at SomArts last year. He said that it he'd liked it as soon as he'd walked into SomaArts, one of only four of the hundreds of pieces of art on the wall which had that effect on him. I told him it was part of a series, and that there were more and bigger like it if he was interested. I neglected to mention that Vash is my ex-girlfriend, or that we're not talking right now, and especially not that she wants us to start talking again but that I'm still feeling flinchy and afraid. (Unnecessary exposition and all.) Since the City is tiny socially and geographically, he lived a few blocks away, and later in the afternoon after he'd left there'd been some talk of possibly swinging by his house to use the facilities, but the timing didn't work out. Pity, because I wanted to see Vash's art on his wall. I suspect there'll be other opportunities, though. There was no Good Movie that morning, but the feature at Bad Movie Night was Missing in Action. I wasn't scheduled to host and Ennui was at dinner with a friend in the East Bay, but I went anyhow and sat in my usual seat in the front row. It's just as fun when I'm not hosting, since there's less pressure to be funny. It was a small audience, as is usually the case on Easter Sunday, but as Rhiannon pointed out, they were all our regulars. Most nights there's at least one newbie, even if they never return, but this was all familiar faces. It was rather comforting.
Ennui and I are going to Ask Dr. Hal tonight, tomorrow night Ilene's reblondifying my roots, Wednesday's open at the moment, Thursday I'm getting the squid tightened, and depending on how punch-drunk I'm feeling I'm driving to Fresno either immediately afterward or on Friday morning. All things considered, Friday morning's probably safer, though it would be a quicker trip late Thursday night. This is an especially good thing since my mom really wants me to bring Perdita along. Haven't quite decided that one yet. Aside from a vet trip or two, Perdita hasn't traveled since I got her in '05, let alone for three hours. She's a tough one, though. I'm sure she can handle it.
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Saturday, 22 March 2008 (a tourist at best) 1:32pm My eye is healing nicely according, to my ophthalmologist. I need to keep taking the Vigamox until Tuesday, but there's no permanent damage. We talked a bit about glaucoma, however, and I made an appointment for a vision field text next month. I hate those, but it needs to be done, since I'm not giving up my vision without a fight. And my eyes are fighters, to be sure. When his associate tried to put some dye on my eyeball, my eyelids were having none of it. I said several times that they would have to hold my eyes open to get the stuff on, but they shrugged me off, and the net result was that it hurt much more than it should have. Tim gave us yesterday off work from work, so after the appointment, I went shopping for new headphones to wear at home, finding a good pair at one of the big chain electronic stores. When I entered, a tranny employee and I noticed each other, and when I was obviously ready to check out she practically volunteered. We flirted some as I paid, but Jesus, she couldn't have been more than twenty years old. They're making 'em so young these days. She also kept calling me "sister," as in are you ready to pay for that, sister? and it's always nice to see other sisters around. Solidarity! I almost decided to follow through and get her email addy, but, nah. I can only go down so many roads at once. Some days you just want as little interaction with other people as possible, and it's just as well that I was in a genial enough mood, because I was not exactly unnoticed. As I was filling Phoebe's tank at the Twin Peaks gas station on Portola, a scruffie Aussie with a skateboard asked me to take a picture of him in front of the station's sign, saying it was one of the best hills he'd ever skated. As I later walked from Phoebe to the electronics store, I passed by some construction guys who tried to get my attention. Yeah, no thanks. A few minutes later, some tourists asked me how to get to Polk Street. What is it about me that makes me look so approachable to tourists, anyway? (I guess I just scream "local.") I considered taking a different route back to Phoebe as to avoid the construction guys, but decided to just go back the way I came. Naturally, they tried again, this time insisting that I tell them the time. I simply referred to my bare wrist and kept going. Such a peculiar condition of my existence, walking though two worlds like that: the tranny at the store clocked me as quickly as I clocked her, our mutual radar like Slaver stasis boxes, but it's a safe bet that the construction guys thought I was a genetic girl. I suppose if I'd sucked their dicks, they wouldn't have epsecially cared that I have one of my own. My mission accomplished, I went to The Dark Room, happily finding the lobby unoccupied. I was preparing to settle in when Ennui called. She invited me to Cassandra to work, and I was more than happy to take her up on the offer. We talked (a New Orleans trip for later this year is being considered) and cuddled and worked for the next few hours, her doing much of her work with her head on my lap. She may or may not being dropping in on the Ten Commandments cast party Saturday night (that is, tonight), but we'll definitely be hanging out on Sunday, and going to Ask Dr. Hal together on Monday. The Ten Commandments that evening was not one of our smoother performances. I lost one of my few bits of business because someone else blew a cue, but it was just one of a hurricane of blown cues. Ironically enough, Puzziling Evidence was taping the show, though he told me afterward that he's coming again on Saturday (that is, tonight). When I found out earlier in the week that Tim was giving us Friday off, I considered taking Puzzling Evidence up on his long-standing offer to be on his show (3am Friday morning, right after Over the Edge on KPFA), but I decided it wouldn't be a good idea to be sleep-deprived for Friday night's performance. As it turned out, of course, that would have been the least of the show's problems. Oh well. The audience enjoyed themselves, and that's the bottom line. In spite of not getting to bed until well after two this morning, I actually slept until ten. On and off, getting up to piddle and such, but I was able to get back to sleep, which used to be difficult enough before the Bad People moved in. My laptop was playing Robert Rich as white noise (though it starts with Coil's Time Machines when I go to bed, and of course the Hearos Extreme Protection Foam Ear Plugs (NRR 33) which I wear at home as a matter of rote. Plus Perdita was there with me, as she always is whenever I'm in bed. It's dorky and cliched, but it's true: she's my best friend.
This morning I had blood drawn. Strangely reminiscent of eyeball-dye trauma the day before, the process was much more painful than it should have been, as the phlebotomist couldn't...quite...find...the...vein in the crook of my right elbow, eventually switching to my left arm. Ow.
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Friday, 21 March 2008 (my dark life) sometime after midnight What is it with my timing, exactly? It's a quarter to two in the morning, I got home a little while ago, and within five minutes of me getting home, The Bad People arrived as well. When they've just gotten back is when they're often at their stompiest, and for someone reason, they always get home at the same time as me, no matter how obscene the hour. Feh.
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