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Thursday, 31 May 2007 (in silence) 7:11am Finished the Eros story about the Masturbate-a-Thon last night. I'm ready to walk away from it, anyway, which is pretty much the same thing. Going to the DMV this morning to renew my driver's license, including a new picture. That it's happening within a week of squidification is mostly a coincidence.
I weighed myself for the first time in months this morning. I'd gone to the bathroom but hadn't showered yet (I've figured out how to shower without getting the squid yet, yay), and figuted, what the hell. I clocked in 180. Damn. That's lower than I expected—whatever it is I'm doing these days, I should keep doing it, because I'm losing weight. Walking a mile or so from the bus stop to work and then back in the afternoon, combined with eating less, maybe? (Nah, it's gotta be something else.) Then I picked up Perdita, and the scale shot to 200. That's a bit more what I was expecting.
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Wednesday, 30 May 2007 (take your time (low)) 11:43pm There. The Black Light District is tidied, the dishes are done, and the couch isn't buried until a pile of stuff. Good to go for tomorrow night.
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Tuesday, 29 May 2007 (your poison) 10:22am Last night was fun. After hanging out with Sadie in Dolores Park (mostly talking to a recently-ex-methhead who gravitated towards us), I picked up my date Ennui and we drove into North Beach. Thankfully, it was still warm enough that the table I'd reserved out front didn't seem like a horrible idea. From there, we walked up to Cobb's for Rifftrax Live. Though the doors didn't open for another hour, but the line was already stretching to the end of the block. I'd sent the word to my Bad Movie Night associates, but didn't see any familiar faces. Alas. Ennui and I spent the time talking and breaking the ice, which is always more fun in public. Something I'd forgotten about Cobb's, not having been there since the Mystery Science Theater 3000 Symposium in January '04, which is that while seating is first-come first served, getting there early does not necessarily imply a good seat, as the staff seats you where they see fit. Ergo, if you want certain other people to sit with you, you'd damn well better arrive in a group. As a result, Ennui and I were seated a table with three other people who were not happy about it at all. They'd wanted to save them for friends, and worse, not only does the squid somewhat increase my already strastopheric height, but Ennui is about five feet ten inches. There was a great deal of grumbling about our presence, which I tried my best to ignore. Ennui managed to tune it out entirely. In addition to their fascist seating policy (which actually seems quite reasonable to me), Cobb's has a two-drink minimum. I had the "Sex Kitten", which was Absolut "Vanilia" and tonic. Pretty good, and of course you can't beat the name. When the waitress brought the second one, she said, this is yours, right? I meowed in response—and, judging from the way both her and Ennui laughed, much louder than I'd intended. I'm sure the people behind us were less amused.
The feature was the Sylvester Stallone arm-wrestling opus Over the Top. After the show there were the standard-issue dumbass questions (what happened to the robots? where's joel?), and it very much sounded like they'll do it again. Here's to hoping. We walked back to the car, I dropped Ennui back off at her place, and headed home.
I like the squid. It's taken me a couple days (well, thirty-six horus) to decide; certainly I was having some anxiety on Sunday night at Vash's, but I was rather zoned out at the time. My scalp was quite hurty and tight, and I'd taken some Ativan to dull the edge. Hadn't really felt quite like that since electrolysis and the Green Death, though it was nowhere near as intense as that. Finding a hairtie which is wide and strong enough to tie the tentacles back into one cable (cableacle?) has helped a great deal and made it felt not quite so overwhelming. There's still a lot of learning involved; the process of changing clothes or even taking my jacket on and off has changed. And I still haven't worked out the showering issue, since this is very much a dry-land squid. It'll get wet inevitably, and I'll have to continue to keep my scalp cleaned and shampooed (treated with tea tree oil at the very least), but it's best that I avoid a waterlogged squid if I want to be able to lift my head.
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Monday, 28 May 2007 (hatchet) 1:31pm During squidification yesterday, I typed up most of my notes for my cat's-eye-view Eros story about the Masturbate-a-Thon. Now I just need to actually write the damn thing. That's always the tricky part. At Sadie's right now. Trying to work on the story, and certainly I've been productive here before, but in all likelihood we're going to go play hooky in the park soon. Beautiful day and all.
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Sunday, 27 May 2007 (dust on the window) 1:15pm The Masturbate-a-Thon was a lot of fun last night, though my knees are still hurting. I'm going to be writing about it for Eros, which is good, because I don't have enough other things to work on as it is.
Yesterday afternoon's reblondification was successful, and squidification is in progress at this very moment.
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Friday, 25 May 2007 (always fade) 7:54am Currently sticking out of my bag: a rolled up corset and a tail. 11:11am My current Medialoper article is live. I'm not that happy with it, but it's done and it's out there and I'm moving on. 2:40pm Hayley wrote last night. Her home life has stabilized sufficiently, and we'll be getting together next Thursday. Instead of the Queer Open Mic, tonight I'm hosting a Trans March benefit at the Dolores Park Cafe. Hopefully, I'll live up to my notorious billing.
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Thursday, 24 May 2007 (sandinista) 8:21am As I walked up Kearny last night with Sadie and Ambrose on our way to House of Nanking, a derelict in front of Grassland Cocktail Lounge looked at me, laughed very loud and said: so which one of you is the man? They always act like they're the first to make that sort of joke. 8:00pm Me to the driver of the bus at Fifth and Market with conflicting signs (16A on one, 27 on the other): excuse me, is this the 16a? Silence, not looking at me. Again: is this the 16a? Still on ignore. Thirds: excuse me, is this— Acknowledgement: i don't know what bus this is. you supposed to know where you standing right now. Uh-huh. I walked down the aise and asked the first person who looked like they spoke English if it was, in fact, the 16A. They said it was, and that was certainly the route it traveled. I didn't say anything more to the driver, even when I got off the bus at 44th and Judah and the sign still said 27. Conclusion: some people are sad, bitter little creatures—I also got the feeling this one didn't cotton much to faggots—and I should be glad I'm not as miserable as them. I (finally) made Perdita an appointment at Sunset Veterinary. I listed Vash as her co-owner, because she is very much a kittymom and if anything ever happens to me Perdita will go live with her, and Perdita's full name as Perdita Durango, because that's what it is. We made quite the circuit last night: I picked up Sadie and Ambrose at 17th and Church; we found parking close to House of Nanking, where we had a fantastically yummy meal and gave the tourists plenty to look at (and listen to, as Sadie at one point said quite loudly oh! i just remember who i had a sex dream about last night!, which just goes to show why we get along so well); from there we went to City Lights where I picked up a copy of Instant City with my article to give to Divas; up Vallejo through the Rose Garden, and I decided where I want to live when I'm a wealthy writer if I can't get a house up on Skyline near Neil; then to Caffe Greco for Tiramisu; along the way to Greco we passed by Mona Lisa, where I made reservations at a specific outdoor table for my date on Monday; then the Lusty Lady, where I was disappointed that Pepper wasn't on the wall, but all three of the girls in the peepshow had been present in form or another at Sadie's graduation brunch, including Isobel, who kindly asked about my smeary makeup that day; then to NakedSword so they could see what a pr0n company looks like as well as my tres goth workspace (the xmas lights and blacklight lamp of look so much better at night); and finally I dropped them back off at Sadie's and went home. To watch us interact, you wouldn't have guessed that Ambrose and I had only just met on Saturday, especially for how expertly we ganged up on Sadie. Younger-sibling bonding, perhaps.
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Wednesday, 23 May 2007 (dragonfly) 9:16am Slept for seven hours last night. Felt like being on vacation or something. 6:38pm Left the office at 4:05pm, got to the terminal stop of the 71 at Market and Steuart on foot by 4:35pm. Not too shabby. Going to dinner with Sadie and Ambrose tonight, and it looks like I have a date for RiffTrax Live on Monday night. Not Hayley, but that door is still wide open.
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Tuesday, 22 May 2007 (breaker) 10:11am I accompanied Sadie and her sister Ambrose to Death Guild last night. It was the first time in forever that I've been there, certainly the first time at its current location. I'm actually feeling like I might go back again this decade. 2:50pm The naan at Naan 'n Chutney near Third and Brannan is cheap and seriously yummy, and I've enjoyed working my way through the menu these past couple weeks, but I don't think I'll be returning. I'd prefer to give my business to places where the staff has a modicum of common courtesy and doesn't stare endlessly—the guys come out of the kitchen and just stand there looking—no matter how much of a collar-wearing freakbot the customer may be. 3:44pm Random irony will always trump careful planning. 8:58pm So very, very tired. The three and a half hours of sleep I got last night, combined with the fact that I haven't really gotten a good nights' sleep in recent memory at all, is really kicking my ass. But I'm at the Sea Biscuit finishing up this week's Medialoper article, because it needs finishing. And they close by ten, so I won't be in bed too late tonight. Following the play on Thursday night, Sadie and I went off in search of food, finally ending up at the Thai Osha Cafe at Geary and Leavenworth. Their location on Second Street was closing by the time we got there, and I rather loathe the one on Valencia, so back into the Tenderloin we went. It was quite perfect, really. We managed to snag the table right on the corner, offering a nice fishbowl view of the streetlife. (Other tables had opened up before that one, but I was being obstinate, and we only had to wait a few minutes. As Sadie put it: once again, your neuroses have paid off. Indeed. We'd talked about maybe hitting the Power Exchange, but instead just went back to her place and (as always) fired up our laptops. So to speak. In spite of the Thai iced coffee I'd had with dinner, my energy level started dropping precipitously, and before long I headed back home. Figures that would happen on a not-a-schoolnight. Though I didn't sleep much, I got a later start than I would have liked on Friday, not making it to the Sunset Cafe until around noon. While I was waiting in line, a girl came in holding a copy of Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. I talked to her about the book, how much I loved it; she said she hadn't realized that it was nonfiction, let alone such deeply personal nonfiction. She asked me if her other books are like that, and the best I could say was yes and no. A little later while I was writing, another girl entirely came in, also carrying The Year of Magical Thinking. I didn't talk to her about it, even though I was dying to know whether she knew that girl with the long red hair who was reading the same book. Instead, I took it as a sign; I'd been kinda blocked on the Aunt Charlie's Lounge story, and I decided to make it my Joan Didion piece. I wasn't entirely sure what that meant, and I didn't have any of her books handy as reference, but it gave me some sense of what I was trying to accomplish. The words flew a little easier after that, and I managed to pound out the first draft. Her name is mentioned in the first paragraph, just in case. Vash called around four to say she was heading to the Black Light District, so I went home. Our plan was to go to see the Vivenne Westwood and Deborah Oropallo exhibitions at the De Young followed by a late dinner. Instead, after laying on my bed for a while, we decided that ordering Indian food and watching Pee-Wee's Big Adventure sounded like a much nicer and lower-stress evening. (First time seeing the movie for Vash, eighty gazillionth time for me.) Granted, the stress factor was raised a bit by the visit by the resident giraffe handler demanding their few square feet of bike space back, and then by my landlord later on. Other than that, though, nicely low-stress. It made me glad I don't smoke grass at home, though. Saturday was another of those mornings in which Vash had intended to leave super-early to return to Wonderland to work. Didn't quite work out that way. We stayed in bed for a while, had some good moments and some bad moments (first of three) (that used to be me, it hurts that it isn't anymore), then went to the Sea Biscuit. After that she headed home, and I drove to the LGBT Center, my weekend Batcave. From there I walked to the main library and borrowed The Gang That Wouldn't Write Straight: Wolfe, Thompson, Didion, and the New Journalism by Mike Weingarten. I'd been aware of the book's existence for a while now, but it went to the front of my brain when I saw the girls with the book(s) on Friday. Made it to the graduation in more than plenty of time, before any of the rest of Sadie's people had shown up. Though my inclination at these things is usually to lurk in the back, I instead sat with Sadie's family, and Phil. Seemed only right. We threw devil horns, and I discovered that not only can I walk into a church without bursting into flames, I can even say hail satan! Who knew? Of course, it was a Unitarian Universalist, so that may have something to do with it. I stayed at the reception for about an hour, mostly talking to Puzzling Evidence. One of these days I will be on his show, damnit. I walked back to my car, gathered some things and left others, then headed down Market to the Citizen Cupcake at the Virgin Megastore, which has free wi-fi, spectacular views, and is around the corner from the Exit Theater. Wrote for a couple hours, then headed to the Theater, where Vash joined me for Crystal Daze. Just as good the second time around. Better, in some ways. Afterwards, Vash was itching to head back to Oakland. She offered me a ride back to my car. Oh. Huh. We'd talked earlier in the week about me returning to Wonderland with her after the play, but, well, that had been earlier in the week, and...okay. I declined the offer, since it sounded too much like going home alone, which I was categorically not prepared to do. Stupid of me, of course, since once she took me back to my car I could stow my laptop and do pretty much whatever I wanted from there, and it was already parked fairly close to The Power Exchange, which is always reliable for entertainment and friends to hang out with. But I said no to the ride, mumbling that I didn't want to be alone. We kissed goodbye, and she walked away. I drifted back into the theater,looking for Sadie. I found her in the dressing room with her mother and sister. She seemed a bit surprised to see me still around. Understandable; shouldn't I have been with Vash? I stood in the doorway for about fifteen seconds listening to them discuss dinner plans before I it struck me again that she was with her mother and her sister, and if I stuck around I'd intruding, or at least attempting to invite myself along. Bad, bad, doubleplusungood bad. I confirmed that her Graduation brunch was 1pm Sunday at Cafe Gratitude, then headed out to the street, feeling like I'd committed a major Aesop Violation, that the bone had gone into the water and now they were both gone. I tried calling Vash to see if maybe I could get that ride to my car after all, or back to Oakland with her, and if she was already on the Bridge then just hearing her voice would wonder. Nothing. Voicemail, anyway. Hell, hell, hell. On my own, then. I could handle that, no problem. I started walking towards Powell Station, feeling self-conscious and sad, both growing exponentially. I don't know that I looked any freakier than I normally do, but more heads were turning and more nudge-n-nods were happening. Powell. Powell is generally the worst station to get on an outbound train, since it gets the biggest tourist hey, midge! it's one of those weird frisco people we've heard about! contingent, and they were out in force tonight. I decided to take an inbound train to Montgomery, where I'd have better chance of getting a seat on an inbound. Standing amongst them, both waiting for the train and then on it? Giving them that good a look? No. Didn't even know which outbound I was on until it started moving; N-Judah, my old friend. I got off it at Church, behind the Safeway, and started walking towards Market. I'd been debating the whole ride about how much of my cool I was going to maintain, and now I knew. I busted out my phone and texted Vash: could i have gone back to oakland with you? i really wanted to, but you didn't offer and i didn't ask, and i feel like i blew it...Sent it to her email, since I had a hunch her phone was either turned off or inaccessible, and at least she'd see her email tonight. Followed it quickly with: it's okay if the answer is "yes," if you didn't want me along. i just have to know....And with that I started hoofing it back to my car. Saturday night just getting into full swing, plenty of both yuppies and derelicts around, neither group being one I care to contend with under the best of circumstances, and these were far from the best of circumstances, as my breathing was off and I felt like I might start crying at any moment. Though my eyes grew heavy and wet, there really wasn't much of anything I until I received a reply from Vash just as I was reaching my car: you could have come home with me, pitu. i was gonna call b/c that was so abrupt & didn't feel good.So I called and talked to her and mostly cried into the phone (second of three) and told her how confused and hurt I felt by her just leaving like that and that I just wanted to be with her because it was hurting too much being apart but she had no obligations and she apologized profusely for our wires getting crossed and my makeup streaked in really beautiful ways, the way that only tears can do through dark eye makeup. (I hadn't believed it until I started wearing it regularly, but mascara does run dramatically.) She suggested that I take BART into Oakland, and of course I said oh my yes. She picked me up from MacArthur (got there around midnight), we went into Chinatown for a late night dinner, then back to Wonderland where I took some pictures of my messy makeup, because that's how I am. We decided the next morning that I should probably head back to San Francisco, even though I had my little nook in the kitchen where I could work relatively unobtrusively. I was fine with that, since I was feelng like I'd overstayed a welcome which had only been extended under duress in the first place. As we sat in her living room, her on my lap, I cried a little more (third of three), making wet marks on her waffle-cone leopard print pants. I apologized that what should have been a productive night for her was fracked up by her needy and neurotic girlfriend, and that just scared me all the more. It can be destructive. It was also, I realized, very catlike. I got shut out (accidentally or otherwise), so I cried and scratched at the door until I was let back in. Perdita would have been proud. She suggested we go out for breakfast first, and as a rule I don't turn down opportunities to spend more time with her, so of course I accepted. We ate at the cafe across from Ultimate Grounds, and then she dropped me off at Lake Merritt Station. Well-timed, as I got to Cafe Gratitude just as Sadie's group was being seated. Like at the graduation itself it was a mix of friends and family. Her friend Isobel asked about my makeup, if it was intentional or from crying. I was honest, but also said I was okay now, which wasn't so much not entirely honest as much as not entirely dishonest. In any event, I know I had the look of a hard night about me. I also knew that Sadie wasn't embarrassed or anything like that. If her friends weren't idiosyncratic oddballs, they probably wouldn't be her friends. Since I'd already had breakfast with Vash I kept it simple at Cafe Gratitude, mostly just having an espresso-infused milkshake (I Am Wired!), and nibbling at other peoples' food as offered to me, especially Phil's girlfriend Peggy's salad. After wards Phil, Peggy and I returned with Sadie and her parents to her place. When we had a few moments alone, we brought each other up to date on the previous eighteen hours, which had been rough for both of us. After clothes were changed, Sadie went off with her parents, and I joined Phil and Peggy at Mission Creek. Phil did homework while Peggy read and I wrote. Around half past six I packed it up and walked to my car, which was happily still parked behind the LGBT Center, windows and everything still intact. I drove to The Dark Room to host Bad Movie Night, where I was surprised that nobody asked about my makeup, not even Maddy. I guess they know me too well.
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Monday, 21 May 2007 (belarus) 10:14am Excellent Bad Movie Night last night. The feature was the remake of The Wicker Man, and we had a great, rowdy crowd, including a few new faces. It was best way possible to end an occasionally harrowing weekend. If hosting a comedy show with eye makeup smeared by crying doesn't describe the human condition, I don't know what does. 5:32pm Kneefur has been acquired.
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