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Friday, 30 May 2008 (death and the corpsman) 10:44am Ilene and I had dinner at Kyoto Sushi last night. It's an altogether different dining experience than Fleur De Lys, and ultimately one more to my liking. The super-fancy stuff is wonderful every now and again (I expect I won't go to one again for another few years), but on a regular basis I'm more than happy with more modest fare. Especially if it's messy. We went back to her place afterward and watched all three hours of the Battlestar Galactica miniseries. To both my surprise and hers, she liked it, saying it was more emotionally taxing than she'd expected. High praise, indeed. 10:23pm At The Dark Room. Worked the door for The Bad Seed, and am now here for some sketch comedy group from Stanford. I'm also researching a phenomenon I'd never heard of before called cougars, meaning older women who pursue younger men. Which sounds fantastic to me, 'cept for the fact that I'm neither young nor a man. Damn, though. May need to check out some of those bars, just in case. There's gotta be a few who are into trannies, or at least willing to experiment. Meanwhile, yay! Someone—a stranger I've never met, even!—on goodReads.com "particularly enjoyed" my piece in It's So You! I like it when people I don't know like my stuff. | ||
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Thursday, 29 May 2008 (dreams reoccurring) 12:48pm I felt a little dazed when Ennui and I first walked into Fleur De Lys, as I often will when I enter a restaurant which is so far above my usual socioeconomic range. Unsurprisingly, the last time I felt that way was when Poppy and her husband Chris took Maddy and I to Commander's Palace in New Orleans. In that case, at least we were the guests of respected regulars. Last night felt more to me like Ennui and I are were kids sneaking into someplace we didn't belong. The staff was incredibly gracious, though—calling me "she" and "miss" right off the bat, epic win!—and the Schramsberg Vineyards Blanc de Blancs sparkling wine we started off with also helped calm my nerves. Unlike at Commander's Palace, we had to actually choose stuff off the menu, though we decided to do it right and go for the full five-course meal. Ennui, who had suggested Fleur De Lys for our anniversary and offered to pick up the tab (an offer I accepted, because I suck) said: be as extravagant as you want. And so. After the wine came our first Canapé, which we were told was compliments of the chef:
both of which were in tiny, tiny portions, the soup in a receptacle smaller than a shot glass and the salad in what appeared to be the same kind of ladle that your slightly higher-end sushi places will bring out for the miso soup. For the appetizer I ordered the
PAN SEARED VEAL SHORTBREAD, TOPPED WITH LOBSTER CERVICHE
Sea urchin emulsion, cooled off with white gazpacho and Osetra caviar and Ennui had the
UNTRADITIONAL AHI TUNA TARTAR
Topped with oxtail consommé "en gelee", and served with Golden brown Panisses though we were both a little confused with hers came with what appeared to be french fries. Perfectly cut and stacked at right angles, but french fires nonetheless. We finally realized that those were the Panisses. The mayonnaise-esque dipping condiment alongside it was quite yummy. It may well have just been mayoannaise, but damnit, mayonnaise in a fancy French restaurant has gotta be the best. I gave Ennui her anniversary present, a small metal sphere with large wings. I'd bought it at Flora Grubb Gardens last time I was there with Sadie, knowing as soon as I saw it that it would be perfect for Ennui, her being a Harry Potter geek and the sphere resembling in design if not color the Golden Snitch from Quidditch. She liked it, and we were observed. Then was the second Canapé, a
Puree of cauliflower with basil pesto, black currant and red chili flakes
which was pretty yummy. Can't go too wrong with red chili flakes. Next was the first of our two entres, the fish course. I had
ROASTED SEA SCALLOPS, HAZELNUT CRUST
Chantrelles & truffle gnocchi, mushrom jus with hazelnut oil emulsion and oh wow the truffle gnochhi were so good, such a perfect texture and taste, that I insisted Ennui have one of the three on the plate. It would have been wrong of me to hoard. And she gave me a bit of her
HAWAIIAN PRAWNS ON FENNEL CONFIT
Sweet oranges, red wine licorice emulsion & fennel pollen which was also excellent, especially the mixture of the prawn and the fennel. Wanting to save room for the dessert, Ennui began eating only half of the relatively meager offerings (or "presentations," as the waiter called them), on her plates. I, on the other hand, cleared mine off nicely. Though it took a while. We had noticed earlier that Ennui was actually eating much faster than I was, where I was being more deliberate, savoring every bite. Poppy had done the same thing at Commander's Palace that night, happily wolfing it down while I was pacing myself. Those foodies, they know what they like. Next was the meat course. I had the
FILET MIGNON TOPPED WITH SAUTEED FOIE GRAS
Served with truffled Port wine sauce (Additional $25.00) and in cruel bit of irony, it was probably the least satisying element of the meal for me. It was good, but even with the foie gras, I'm just not a big steak person. Never have been, never really be. Which is actually why I ordered it: to try something different. In retrospect, I probably should have gone with the other similar item, the
SEARED FILET MIGNON WITH A LOBSTER TRUFFLED MAC & CHEESE "EN BRIOCHE"
Accented with a red wine, shallot, thyme Bordelaise sauce (Additional $12.00) because, c'mon! Mac & Cheese! And it's not the item in quotes! But the server had suggested the other Filet Mignon entree. I had only asked because I got the impression from Ennui that they like being asked these things, for preferences or just how the _______ is tonight. And it wasn't bad at all, and I certainly finished it. It just lacked the transcendence I had come to expect by that point. Alas. Though she's working towards it, Ennui doesn't eat beef or pork, so she got another of the fish dishes, specifically the
HALIBUT, ROLLED IN A POTATO AND BLACK PEPPER CHAPELURE
Rhubarb coulis, corn fondue and truffle sauce which was quite lovely. Almost as surprising as the presence of french fries earlier were now a few piece of popcorn which had been cooked using truffle oil. They certainly tasted like it. Whatever the meat lacked in transcendence was more than made up for by the one of the course Ennui had been most looking forward to, the
ASSORTMENT OF ARTISANAL FRENCH CHEESES
which I intitially read as an ARSENAL rather than ASSORTMENT. I still think that would have been a better name. An arsenal of artisanal cheese! I'm not sure what they all were, except one was a flowery-looking Swiss, and the best was the bleu cheese, which was good bleu should straddled the line being icky and yummy and falling firmly on the side of "yummy." Best of all, no utensils were necessary (except for the possibly spreading it on bread), so I finally got to be messy, especially with the one cheese that was in the little jar of oil. Yum. It can't be a good meal unless you have cause at some point to lick your fingers clean. We followed it up with a cappuccino, which I think may have been my first cappuccino. I'm still a novice to the fancy coffee drinks, don't'cha'know. The other option had been a dessert wine, but I decided a re-up on energy would be a good idea, because a cunning plan for the rest of the evening was forming in my mind. We hadn't discussed what we might do after dinner except eventually returning to Cassandra. The server also asked if it was a special occasion, and we confirmed (somewhat sheepishly) that, yes, it was our first anniversary. He said that the cook would make us something special for it, and that we could meet him if we'd like. Ennui seemed like a little ambivalent about the prospect, being naturally shyer than me, but I was all for it, being both slightly buzzed from half a bottle of fancy wine and just feeling more comfortable in general. Of course, the feeling of being kids getting away with something was always there, especially considering the occasional hairy eyeballs we would get from other tables when we laughed, but now I was actively appreciating it. That's the trick, isn't it? Appreciating rather than resenting one's alienness. I try my best. Then came dessert proper, Ennui's most favorite part, which was the
CHOCOLATE SOUFFLE
Served with cherry and Kirsch ice cream and unlike the dessert at Commander's Palace that night, I was more than happy to tear into this one. It was delicious, though the best part may have been watching Ennui's face as the server poured chocolate sauce into the already super-chocolately souffle. She likes chocolate, a lot. A few minutes later the server brought us out another desert, again compliments of the chef. I didn't quite catch exactly what it was, but written on the place in chocolate sauce was HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY. Awww. After the bill was paid, we were brought one more complimentary beverage, two glasses of Trimbach Kirsch Eau de Vie. "Eau de Vie" means "water of life," which I chose to relate to Dune (oh, it's from sandworms! I said, amusing nobody but myself) rather than pee-drinking, thus saving me from having to think about B.D. at all. (Good heavens, it's been nice not having to deal with him.) We were then taken into the kitchen to meet the chef, Hubert Keller. A very sweet guy. Even when I'm out of my league I can still turn on the charm, and we had a brief, pleasant chat. I told him it was the best meal I've had since Commander's Palace (which was not a lie), and briefly mentioned Poppy and her Liquor books. He didn't seem familiar with them so I left it at that. Sometimes namedropping works, sometimes it doesn't. Anyway, I knew well enough from Poppy's books (and basic logic) that he was an extremely busy man, so we thanked him and headed out. I told Ennui my big plan, and she was all for it, so we headed (in a luxury car offered by the restaurant, full service!) to The Castro Theater for the ten o'clock showing of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I knew if I was going to see the movie in a theater at all it would have to be a the Castro. There were certain things I didn't like, mostly the CGI and the how the movie goes off the narrative rails in the last twenty minutes in a manner which reminded me entirely too much of the last Pirates of the Caribbean movie, but for the most part I enjoyed it. I enoyed Speed Racer more, quite frankly, but Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (some of which was filmed in Fresno) was a perfect capper to the evening, a classic bruised forearm movie which we were still both just tipsy enough to really appreciate. This afternoon Ennui is leaving for Europe on a month-long business trip, and June will be what it is: among other things, the first one in which I've been functionally single since 1999. Though I have a lot more friends now than I did then. | ||
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Wednesday, 28 May 2008 (another version of the truth) 10:21am For our one-year anniversary (which was also the impetus for what evolved into the Bolinas trip), tonight Ennui and I are going to Fleur De Lys. It's one of her favorite restaurants, and we've been talking about going there since we started dating. Tomorrow night Ilene and I are going to watch the Battlestar Galactica miniseries, and Friday and Saturday night I'm officially working the door at The Dark Room so Erin can go out of town. I'll be taking money and everything, so world domination can't be too far behind. Not that I especially want to dominate the world. I'm busy enough as it is, plzkthzbai. | ||
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Tuesday, 27 May 2008 (very far apart) 2:34pm Though it almost didn't go well, at least not the "getting up there" part. As we were about to leave the parking lot of the Mollie Stone's in Sausalito (where we picked up chocolate as well the traditional Guinness for c0g), Ennui spotted a note under Phoebe's windshield wiper. Though directly in front of me, I hadn't seen it at all. Nor had I previously noticed what the note informed me: that the rear passenger side tire was flat. I checked, and so it was. Thankfully, between the can of flat-fixing goo in the trunk and a service station a few blocks away Phoebe's tire was refilled and just fine for the rest of the trip, but I shudder to think of it what would have happened had the anonymous Sausalitan not noticed and gone to the trouble of leaving a note. I suspect it would have been very bad. The kindness of strangers, indeed. Our visit with c0g and m0 was nicely low-key. We ate (much of it from their farm), walked around Bolinas, and slept in their yurt. I got turned around on the way to their place when we got into town, which is embarrassing considering I've driven there easily a dozen times by now. m0 assured me that even though she lives there, the streets of Bolinas confuse her, too. That's the point, really. 9:36pm At The Dark Room. Came here theoretically to get some writing done, but I've mostly been watching the tech rehearsal for The Blob, which is okay too. I was at the front desk when Leni happened to swing by, and we hung out for a while in the lobby. I kinda get the feeling that she's fundamentally gregarious and is chatty and outgoing with most everybody, but I still like it when she's that way with me. | ||
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Monday, 26 May 2008 (upward depreciation) 7:12pm Back from Bolinas. It went well. | ||
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Saturday, 24 May 2008 (abscess of fear) 8:48am At The Dark Room, and I'm more glad than ever that I was able to stay the night and not worry about moving Phoebe, because it's rainy and ugly outside. That'll put a damper on Carnaval, I'm sure. And now, I get work done. Coming Out...Again is on June 25, a month from tomorrow. My piece is coming along nicely on a conceptual level, but I also know my process well enough that I'll need the last few weeks before it just editing and rewriting, and the first draft isn't quite done yet. So. 5:10pm right before my trip was a hell of a time to finally decide to tell me the whole story, especially at the same time as you were telling anyone else reading your journal. no, they didn't make me think any less of you, but it was information that had to be slowly abosrbed and not taken lightly. ... it's not as brutal as rape, but you are telling me things that i would rather not hear by really have no choice about hearing. is that not forcing? ... as you know, i'm not really a prude, but i've never been that comfortable with even semi-explicit details of the sex lives (past and present) of those i'm close to. a little warning next time would be nice. (no, i'm not upset.) ... fine. you can continue to take public transportation to and from phil's and he can talk about the ex and you can cry over her all you want. 7:16pm Though she won't be seeing The Bad Seed tonight, Bunny came by The Dark Room a little while ago to put daisies in my hair and loan me a copy of her favorite book, Krafft-Ebbing's Psychopathia Sexualis. If that isn't an example of range, I don't know what is. 8:25pm The Bad Seed opened Thursday before last, on May 15, and the posters for it featuring Sean Owens as the little girl Rhoda have been up since at least mid-February. I've been around The Dark Room a lot since then, for Bad Movie Night and to watch the plays and just as a place to write and work the door and to be among friends and feel at home, which I do at few other places. (I actually slept very well last night in the Green Room, and got quite a lot done on the essay this afternoon.) I've also answered a lot of peoples' questions about Attack of the Killer B-Movies, mostly about tickets and showtimes and such. Nobody ever asked anything about the actors pictured in the posters, nor have they asked if I'm in any of the plays. As mentioned, this week the series was featured in the Chronicle's 96 Hours. The cover was a big picture of Sean as Rhoda with the headline The Brat's Back—In Drag. Accompanying the smaller picture of Sean above the article proper is the caption: Sean Owens, a 6-foot-3 actor, plays the 8-year-old little girl killer, Rhoda, for laughs in the Dark Room Theater's "The Bad Seed." The headline of the article reads STAGE BRAT :: Attack of the Killer B-Movies :: Remake of 'The Bad Seed' casts young killer in adult drag. Excerpted from the article: "The most important thing about that movie is how clueless everybody was," [Jim] Fourniadis says. "I decided to, in a very subtle way, highlight that by having Sean play (Rhoda) in drag."Since the article was published both last night and tonight's shows sold out online, and the phone's been ringing off the hook with people trying to get tickets. Both yesterday afternoon and today, several people have pointed at the poster for The Bad Seed—featuring someone thoroughly established by the recently published Chronicle article as a six-foot three-inch man—and asked me: oh, is that you? Pure coincidence, I'm sure. | ||
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Friday, 23 May 2008 (maintaining the dying star) 3:42pm At The Dark Room, since they let us leave work early today on account of the holiday and this is where I go. It's the second weekend of The Bad Seed, which got on the front page of the Chronicle's 96 Hours section. Not too shabby at all, and I expect it'll be a good turnout tonight. Ilene and I were among the very few girls in attendance at the Artists' Television Access on Wednesday night, which is no great shock considering how incredibly old-school gay Sebastiane is. It reminded me a bit of the long glances that Bunny and I were getting at Twin Peaks the night before. Mostly me. After the movie, Ilene and I went to the Mission Festives house for their newsworthy Dennis Richmond Retirement festivities. I was a little worried when we got there that we might be seen as crashers, but thankfully they remembered me from the night before, even my name. (I'm memorable, it seems.) Though she hadn't been sure if she'd make it, I texted Bunny and let her know the party was in fact happening, and she arrived in time for the group viewing of Richmond's final broadcast. It was a peculiar experience to watch a local news broadcast (on a widescreen teevee in HD, no less) with a bunch of mostly drunk Mission hipsters, but a fun one. Like at the ATA, Ilene and I were conscious of being the odd ones out, in this case mostly due to our gothiness, but we didn't get as many peculiar looks as before. But as there always is, there was one loud obnoxious guy who was probably no less loud and obnoxious when he was sober, but now he was borderline intolerable, constantly shouting inane things in a deep voice, so much so that one of the otherwise relentlessly effervescent hosts occaisonally shushed him. He referred to me as dude at one point, but as Ilene and I were getting ready to leave a little later he kept saying things like man and the real kicker, bro. That's where I draw the line, and I asked him to please not refer to me as a boy, since I'm a girl and not a boy. This confused him greatly—I mean, after all, I was clearly and beyond a shadow of a doubt a boy, anybody could see that—and all he could really say was: hey, quit freaking out on me! Naturally, I was keeping my voice calm and collected while he was raising his and getting obviously agitated, but, I was the one who was freaking out. Ironically, in a way he was treating me in a classically misogynist way, essentially calling me hysterical when I was standing up for myself. As Ilene and I walked back to her place, we passed by the Elbo Room, and lo and behold, he was standing out front. The hell? We just kept walking. After work on Thursday I ran some errands (including getting the non-Netflixable Maximum Overdrive from Le Video), then went to Pirate Cat to hang out with Bunny, who filled me in on what happened between Ilene and I leaving the Mission Festives house and seeing the guy outside the Elbo Room: Bunny was standing in the kitchen talking to another girl when the guy announced that he was going to grab their asses. Which he did, and then said: you can slap me if you want. Bunny did want, so she slapped him. First he laughed, a few moments later he said: my ears are still ringing. And then you don't have to be so militant! Right, militant. Because...yeah. Bunny's show ended at eight. She was craving meat for dinner, so after some deliberation added by the difficulty of finding a decent hamburger in Bernal Heights (where we wound up in anticipation of going to the Wild Side West), we went to Emmy's Spaghetti Shack. The place has been around for years, and I'd somehow managed to never even hear of it. That's San Francisco for ya. After a drink at the adjoining bar, we each had a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs. The classics, they never die. Afterward we walked back to my car, I gave Bunny a lift to her place, then went to Pirate Cat for literally the last fifteen minutes of KrOB's show. And then, finally, to my own home. sometime after midnight At The Dark Room, still, about to crash in the Green Room. Astonishingly enough, I've never spent the night here. Never did at Spanganga, either. Erin was kind enough to dig out a blanket and pillow for me, and Phoebe's parked in a non-metered space at 19th and Folsom with no streetcleaning until Tuesday morning at nine. I intend to have driven elsewhere well before then, of course—I'm going home tonight, and Ennui and I are oing to Bolinas tomorrow—but for now it's perfect, especially what with Carnaval happening this weekend. Even if I drove back to the Black Light District tonight and headed here early tomorrow morning, there's almost no chance of me getting a free spot. So, finally, overnight. There's no small irony in the fact that I didn't drink at all tonight, and am perfectly sober. Especially since I hung out for a bit with Bunny tonight after the show. (How many nights in a row has it been? I've lost count.) We got food from Cancun—she's still craving meat—and sat in the lobby, talking. We know a lot about each other now. Then she went home. | ||
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Thursday, 22 May 2008 (crossing in the night) sometime after midnight I may or may not start doing my show on Pirate Cat Radio on Sundays from four to six in the afternoon, after which I would head over to The Dark Room for Bad Movie Night. I haven't decided for sure yet, but it's mine if I want it. Considering that between four and six on Sundays I'm usually either at The Dark Room or Mission Creek blazing away on my laptop, why not just do it at Pirate Cat and be on the air at the same time? | ||
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Wednesday, 21 May 2008 (metronomic) 10:29am Bunny and I had dinner at Osaka Sushi, then had pre-movie drinks at the Twin Peaks Tavern at the corner of Market and Castro. I'm rather embarrassed to admit that I've been living in this town for fourteen years and yet have never set foot in that particular establishment. But I'm sure I will again, since they have easily the best five-dollar Bloody Mary in town. (I think. There's another fiver someplace, but I forget where.) As she was encouraging me to get my second one, I said: i certainly hope you're doing this to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me. Which nicely led into the obvious discussion we'd been putting off for some time. We saw Nicholas Roeg's Walkabout at The Castro, then hung out for a bit with her friends in The Mission Festives as they prepared for their big Dennis Richmond Retirement Party tonight (which Ilene and I are hopefully going to after the movie at the ATA). Bunny and I had one more drink, hugged goodnight, and I headed home. 5:54pm And suddenly, plans: Ennui and I are going to visit c0g and m0 in Bolinas this weekend, leaving Sunday and returning on Monday. We'd been tossing around an overnight anniversary venture for the weekend May 31, but that changed when she found out she was leaving the country for work, so it got pushed back to this upcoming weekend. Which, in addition to be a week sooner, is also Memorial Day Weekened. Bleh. After considering some predictably expensive hotel rooms in Santa Cruz, it suddenly occurred to me that I haven't been to Bolinas since my birthday, and I like to make it there at least once a year. I called c0g, who said they'd be in town and would be happy to have us. I called Ennui, who sounded amenable either way. The amazing thing, to me, is that I did all of the planning on the phone. Normally I'm more than happy to do so over email, but I decided to give the phone thing a try. More direct and all. I still don't like talking on the phone in general, but it has its advantages. Since it was referenced in a Vanity Fair article about the Running With Scissors lawsuit, I got William Zinsser's book Inventing the Truth: The Art and Craft of Memoir from the library. Looks like a relevant read. | ||
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