brucehoax

all neuroses, all the time

Friday, September 28

i just finished having lunch with one of my favorite professors at one of our favorite tex-mex places- i had my standard chicken enchiladas with tomatillo sauce, rice, and beans. thank you jesus for making me a texan. ah, the regenerative powers of lard and cilantro. you border-state dwellers know what i mean.

anyway, this teacher and i became friends over the last year, and as we are closer in age than he and the other students we have a different sort of friendship, like pals. he knows he can bitch about something to me and i will neither judge him for being petty or run and tell everybody what he says. so, i'm a confidante of sorts. it helps also that i am graduating this december, it means i'll be gone soon and that i have no strong attachments to be made in the home stretch... i'm not going to sidle up to another professor in the future and spill all the beans, so to speak. i mean, i'm as good as gone, right?

so we were talking about father figures, and how i latched on to him and how i latched on to my director of the current show i'm working on, and how the students latch on to him, and surprisingly, me. they come to me for everything. relationship problems. old druggie-days stories. how to write papers. where to find good used furniture. and they tell me everything. who they are fucking. who they want to fuck. who was fucking who, (and yes, i should probably be typing "whom," and i apologize to all the school-marmy grammar- and spell-checkers out there. i'm joking simdy!

he pointed out that it is no coincidence, then, that i am playing friar laurence in "romeo and juliet." and when he said that, i related a realisation i had the other night to him. we (a bunch of students and me) were all lying out on the hill that the theater is built on, and the weather was cool and we had a beautiful view of the cityscape and the greenery and bits of the river. it really is the best view in town, perched up there in front of the theater on the grassy hill. i was on my back, a stem of grass sticking out of my mouth, chewing and tasting that wonderful grass taste. in my hand was a bunch of yellow flowers from the vines that grow along the walls of the building.. the cool wind blew, the grass smelled green and sweet, and i laid there listening to a bunch of 20-year-olds confess their troubles to me. somewhere in the theater someone was practicing a hymn-like song.

i am friar laurence.

and so my teacher pointed this out, and i took a minute and finally agreed. people will tell me anything. i listen to people. i can reason with people. i can empathise with people. and they all know i won't say a word. it's one of the things about me a like the most, i think. i have absolute discretion. it probably comes from a childhood of secrets and guilt about being gay- who knows. speaking of which, if you are someone coming out of the closet and need help, you will find your way to me. i don't know how it happens, but you will always find me. and i will always help. and i don't mind a bit.

so, in 25 or 30 more years i wonder who i'll be. a "ghostly confessor"? maybe. i find myself more and more interested in a monk's life. absolute simplicity. oh sure, i'd love to win a tony or oscar first, but i'd chuck it all to live in a carved-out cave dwelling if i could. this confuses me, because i love owning things. i love my furniture, my knick knacks, my doo-dads. but i do think i'd give it all up for some peace and quiet. i'd have trouble with the chastity, though.

the other night i put on my new rosary with my costume, and it is huge. like 4 feet long, with beads the size of peach pits. it's gorgeous, and it has a big tin crucifix on the end that hangs low and swings when i walk (PAGING DR. FREUD!). well, last night i tucked it into my rope belt, put on my little sandals and hood and walked out of the dressing room- and suddenly felt it. the power of....er...well, God. it washed over me, and i had a confidence and spring to my step that helped me turn in the best performance i've done in rehearsals yet. and people noticed. i walked around with a big dumb smile on my face. i had warmth, and comfort, and care.

now, i am at heart pretty skeptical. i'll believe anything, but first have to be convinced. and i was not ready for this divine message, nor was i happy about it. it would just complicate things for me right now, i don't have the strength to deal with some sort of religious crisis of faith. maybe later. i'm just too busy.
wasn't there a bible character that went through this same thing? doubted and doubted and needed more proof?

where this is going

last night i wondered aloud how i was going to pay my bills. i was $36 dollars short. i had two days to figure out where this would come from. sell some cds? sell some books? whore myself? who knew? willy is tapped out, i can't borrow from him. so i've been thinking and thinking about it.

today, after the friar laurence talk, and after the weird inter-galactic phone call from God, i walked to the store next to campus to get a coke. i paid, but stopped and came back to the counter and asked the cashier to pick me out an instant-win lotter ticket- you scratch off a dot and win whatever is printed underneath. i told him i felt lucky (i actually felt more... holy. yikes.) and so i didn't care which he picked. i gave him a dollar, i walked outside, i scratched off the dot, and there it was.

"$40.00"

my bills are paid.

it was all coincidental. it was fate. it was the universe. it was luck.

but i still looked up at the sky and said out loud:

THANK YOU.

Wednesday, September 26

oh, and one last thing: a note or two to tinman might be in order too. he's dealing with a lot of fallout from the past two weeks- he seems pretty low too.

it's going around.


well. hello.

i just want to say that i'm fine. it's all passed. i had too much going on, too much stress, too many things that i had signed on to. paper is turned in, sketches and renderings are well under way, lines are memorized, etc. it's all good. finally.

a certain someone, after i wondered whether or not i should delete some of the more humiliating and confessional parts of that post two days ago, advised me that i should not, as it is good to see the ups and downs of day to day living. i have to agree, after some thought. it's okay that you bunch of strangers know some of that crap, i think. it's okay because i bet some of you know what i'm talking about, how paralyzing life can be, how scary or difficult decisions get, how terrible one can feel about oneself. and maybe in that commiseration we could strike up a friendship, or an emaily something or other. i'm open to whatever. and there is probably more psychic-baggage-unloading
to come, so stay tuned. that sounded like a threat!

however. that was then, and this is now. i'm back in the land of the living. i must have had all that really tanked up inside of me, and it needed to burst out, tsunami-style... well. it did. thanks for the letters of support, by the way.

um. what else. tonight is, i think, a dress rehearsal. i worked on fittings all day in the costume shop, taking in hems, sewing on buttons, etc. yep, design work ain't all sequins and star-fucking. it's all-out drudgery, most days. sequins and starfucking. hmmm. that would make a good title for something, maybe my autobiography.

in the next few months i hope to do a major re-design of this site, but still keep it really simple...no crazy blinky things or scrolly things or anything like that. just something to bust out of this template- i'll see what happens.

see? back to the mundane.

and that's a good thing.

Tuesday, September 25

and after all that... no post today.

i'm in the middle of writing a huge paper, rehearsing (we open one week from tomorrow) and... well... just getting through it.

so, more tomorrow- after the paper is turned in and things settle down.

xoxox
me.

Monday, September 24

FOR BETTER OR WORSE, THE FOLLOWING POST STARTS SHALLOW, MEANDERS ALONG WITH A FEW HORRIBLY PERSONAL REVELATIONS, AND THEN ENDS WITH A DESPERATE AND SELF-CONSCIOUS CRY FOR HELP. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

well.

after that particularly unseemly last bit of news about the squirrel i must apologise. not because it was gross, not because it was a tad too descriptive (the use of the words "wet" and "larvae" were a little unsettling, i am sure) but because there wasn't more to it. should i feel guilty for not posting at length? i don't know, i imagine it gets boring to wade through it all. there have been some interesting posts over at blogasm about this, go check it out.

AND NOW, THE WATERWORKS.

i am feeling like the new kid here. i know some of you guys have been blogging for ages, and you all know each other, and i understand that these relationships take time to build. but lately all the traffic to my blog is from google, and it's all about "bin laden with empire state up ass," or "southern decadence dick pics." how does one snag an audience? i guess become a better writer.

i'm feeling a little pitiful, sorry that i'm whining. i have umpteen things due for school this week, the play opens next wednsday, the show i'm designing gets underway the week after that, etc. etc. i'm just tired and cranky. that's all. sometimes lots of people visit here, sometimes nobody. i don't base my self-worth on number of visitors to brucehoax, so why do i feel so fragile when i check here and have no comments?
maybe i shouldn't post about this. it makes me seem so desperate.

here's the problem: i have never kept much of a journal through my life, just a diary here and there that never amounted to anything. i never thought this blogging thing would stick, that i would continue like i have. and now i'm sort of addicted, maybe.

and i know that there are good posts on here now and then, recipes and news swipes not included. somebody has to like some of this, right?

THE TRUTH:
i think when i moved to austin i screwed myself over.
maybe i should have stayed put and worked through what had happened. i would never have met willy though. and he saved me.

my roommate had just killed herself and i couldn't stay in school or in that house with her still-wet towel or hair bursh with her hair still in it... i was so traumatized by the whole thing i had to leave my favorite little town, and sweet little house. i left 10 years of friends up in denton and dallas and ft. worth, to move to austin to be closer to my family. i get here, it's all great, and then family skeletons rattle and creak and we all fall apart and away from each other. so i was alone. i met willy during all this, and he saved me. i was so despondent i don't know what would have happened.

but he saved me. during this time i was like a hermit. i would not leave the house, i wasn't in school, i worked a crappy job that did nothing for my self-esteem (gay video and book store) and wished i was back up in north texas. i stayed. we had a life of sorts.

some days i would call in sick to work and sit in the bathtub with the shower on me and cry and cry. how had my life ended up like this? why did i not have any friends? i was a hulking mass of weepy neurosis. i got fat. so fat that i had to wear the same clothes over and over, i was too broke to go buy some more, and what was the use? it was horrible to try on shirts that didn't fit, that didn't look right. i just ate more. and cried because i ate. and cried while i ate, sometimes. which was heartbreaking, and a bit insane, i think.

so i hit rock bottom. no friends, just a husband that was getting compassion fatigued because i would do nothing to fix myself, see a therapist, venture out, nothing. when we met i was the picture of confidence, as i had always been. i had talent, smarts, and some looks. and so he hung back and watched this whole dreadful devolution, being supportive, but afraid to tell me to get over it and move on, as i would just burst into more tears. and so on. and so on. and so on.

have you ever seen that old symbol, the snake with his tail in his mouth, forming and "o"? i don't know how this has to do anything with my situation, but i always felt it did. sadness begetting sadness begetting sadness, all consuming, ever cyclical, totally destroying.

ah. i can sort of smile about some of my more gratuitous self-pitying moments now, albeit a little tearily. it was the single most devastating time of my life, being dumped by my family. it shook my self-confidence to the core, it so damaged my self-esteem that i still get a nervous queasy feeling in my stomach when i think about those two years. i have that feeling now, it's horrible.

what this all means:

i never made friends. i have a lifetime of popularity (no, not in the high school sense, but yes, that way too), of social interactivity, of having a circle of friends so huge and supportive that it defined who i was. i had a lot of people covering my ass. during the two or three hell years i withdrew from them all. i didn't return phone calls, i didn't send emails. i vanished on purpose. i did not feel like i was worth friendship, i felt unloveable. i had a man who was trying to love me as much as he could during all this and i pushed and pushed him away. we still have to work on this, so much did i scar him during all of this. but everything i ever thought about myself and who i was and who liked and loved me changed. it was obliterated. and i still struggle every day to claw back to the former me.

so, i want friends. i want smart, witty, learned friends. up on pop culture, movies, music. have read lots of books. say what they mean, and are not passive-agressive. are honest, even when it sucks to be. have an opinion, and can back it up.

i'm looking to some of you, as i've read enough of your blogs that i know we could be pals. it's a good idea, for everyone, isn't it? everybody benefits. drop me a line, leave me a comment.

help me pick my way out of this wrecked life, help me remember who i was, and help me become who i am supposed to be.

help me.

Friday, September 21

UGH. THERE. IT. IS.

dead thing: found.

it was a squirrel, but alas, it was just a wet black mass of larvae and guts when i dug it out of the crawlspace. the whole experience has scarred me for life.

it did still have a fluffy and pretty tail, though.

gross.

it's late, just in from rehearsal, nighty night.

Wednesday, September 19

OH. MY. GOD. THE. SMELL. IS. TOO. MUCH. WHERE. IS. THE. DEAD. THING.

still haven't found it. ugh, how am i going to sleep?


hey gang- i've been kept late at school a lot lately, haven't been able to update like i'd like to- hmmm. what to say?

i've moved back to my house for the semester, and i'll just go to willy's on the weekends- he lives too far from school, and i've been missing some early classes. i get home from rehearsal at 11 or so and shower, eat, fall into bed, and then wake up the next morning to go right back to school. the dog has gone to live with will in the meantime, as i am never home- and that dog is so needy already, so it makes no sense for him to see me just for an hour or so a day- where he is now he can at least see somebody every few hours or so. i miss him though, i miss his little hot-water-bottle body burrowed into my back, his dog breath and rabbit-kick doggy nightmares too. i'm talking about the dog, not will. by the way.

but of course i miss willy too. somehow or other my weekends at his house got longer and longer, and suddenly i was pretty much living there, and coming home only to feed the cat and get books and art supplies... in the process i think will got tired of me being there all the time and not paying rent and bills. i guess he has a point. he would come home and discover i was sitting around watching t.v. and the trash cans were overflowing and dishes in the sink and the bed unmade etc. etc. etc. and he would get so pissed. at the time, i thought he was being a bit too parental- which is in his nature anyway, as he is all about responsibilities and bill paying and saving money. i'm not. i'm classic pisces, baby. head in the clouds, head in the sand. (see earlier post).

i started to resent him nagging me about being unproductive, i thought he had really crossed a boundary- i bitchily told him one time "gee mom, didn't i leave you back home 15 years ago?"... he was not amused. now i see his point. his bedroom had turned into a giant closet for me, my crap was everywhere. and he needs order, and normalcy, and rules of conduct to be followed. i'm a lot less concerned with structure, a little chaos is totally normal for me. funny though, my house is spotless. the bed is made. the kitchen is mopped. the dishes are done. and when people come over here i'm all about straightening up and fluffing pillows and dusting and coasters on tables... etc. etc. etc. you know, classic fag. i'm fairly house-proud. because although my house looks like a shack from the outside, it's pretty damn clever inside. the son of an interior designer, you see. it's in me.

anyway. i'm home now. and something outside is dead. something is rotting. i can't find it. i've poked around in the bushes, i've poked around in the piles of leaves, i can't find it. the problem is, the smell is sneaking into the house. i'm spritzing lysol over in one corner of the house, hoping it doesn't get any worse. i hope something hasn't crawled into the wall or something and died. it's weird, i smell it outside, and faintly in one corner of the kitchen. isn't this pleasant talk? really nice.

the show is coming along great- we have a great cast, great costumes, and an excellent director. it is nothing like this summer's show i did. we had to bond together as a cast and designers and gang up on the director, who could be a little kooky. i like her though, a lot. but she was kooky. you understand.

i'm off to school, i'm actually going to be late. maybe i''ll skip class and just go to work. whatever. i can't wait to graduate! i want out!

oh, looks like we are going to war, of sorts. world leaders are touring the wreckage, i guess to convince themselves that it's okay to throw their hats in the ring. i thought i'd get through my whole life without a big war. i was wrong. i'm too old to be drafted, and really i don't think it will come of that. but my life in the arts is now looking more and more pointless. who will come to see anything if the economy sucks? i don't know what i will do. probably teach.

this was all inevitable, i think. it was our turn. i hate to say that, nobody deserves any of this. but we were untouchable, we thought.

now we are like everybody else in the world.

Monday, September 17

how is it that i can blithely rattle off fritatta recipes and appear all chatty and glue-gun crafty while horrible things happen and people die? well, easy.

just put your head in the sand.

Sunday, September 16

feeling the need to treat myself and my man to a nice brunchy, i whipped up this quickie and excellent fritatta. now, the cool thing here is that once again it seems so swanky and fancy, but really it's a way to get rid of leftovers, and is nothing more than a tarted-up version of your mom's "brunch casserole."

sautee some chopped onion/bell pepper/carrot/broccoli/whatever/etc in some oil in a skillet that can also go in the oven, then add some chopped up beef or chicken or sausage (we had turkey sausage- my favorite) and left over chopped new potatoes (or a left over baked potato, cut up), stir that around until it's all browned and add some parsley or basil or whatever good herb you have. then beat 6-8 eggs with a splash of milk and a tablespoon or two of dijon mustard. pour the eggs over the cooked stuff in the skillet and turn the heat to low/medium. put on a lid of some sort and let it set up 5-10 minutes. then, to finish, sprinkle some cheese over the top (i used some herbed feta) and arrange some sliced tomato artfully on top and stick it in the oven under the broiler for a few minutes to set up the top and melt the cheese. take it out, let it sit for a few minutes, cut into slices, and bingo. serve with a snooty salad of field greens, roasted walnuts or pecans, slivered red onion and sliced bosch pears all tossed in a balsamic vinaigrette. sounds complicated, but is not. i also toasted some fresh sourdough bread and made it into cinnamon toast.

oh my god, it was good. eating is obviously very important to me. i had planned on being a chef until i decided to come back to school and finish my theater degree. so there you have it, another in a continuing series of easy recipes that make you look like you are a gourmet chef when indeed you really are not. all it takes is a little finesse, see?

oh, and the frittata is really good cold or room temp- it's great wrapped up cold and taken on a picnic- a little white wine, some olives, some sliced smoked cheese, a plum or apricot or peach, etc. what a nice way to enjoy a pretty day.

OH MY GOD, I SOUND LIKE I SHOULD HAVE A SHOW ON "HOME AND GARDEN"!!!

Saturday, September 15

well, the comments are back- drop me a line, howzaboutit?

business as usual: we saw hedwig today, and despite some third act problems (was tommy really hedwig? a dream? was he a symbolic ideal? was hedwig the dream? huh?)
i thoroughly enjoyed the movie, the punchlines, the costumes, and most of all, the music. especially excellent was the homage to bowie's "rock and roll suicide" at the end: "lift up your hands!"- there were times i was very near tears- but somehow the last third left me cold. and i'm a smart movie-goer, but i don't know why i just didn't understand what was happening. she found her lost half? what was the deal with the girl in drag? eh? we talked about it afterward, but nobody could come up with a real answer. i mean, i get the walking naked into the street- being at peace with your flaws or your damage or whatever it is that has haunted you and informed your decisions and self-image- i don't know- what do you all think? school me.

more wtc stuff as it filters through me, or seeps out, or bursts out. whatever happens.

p.s. we went to petco and tried little sweaters on the dog, just for a laugh. and it really worked, we felt a hell of a lot better. it may not be the answer to your troubles, but whatever it takes, you know?




whew! i don't know what came over me in that last post. well, i do know, it was good-old fashioned rage.

everyone i know in nyc is fine, the bloggers i read are fine, i'm a few thousand miles away from all of this and i'm fine too.

so why do i feel so crappy all the time? i feel so worn out and defeated- is this residual trauma from watching this whole shitty ordeal unfold live on t.v.? what i saw compares in no way to what so many others have seen, felt, endured. but i'm walking around numb a lot lately, mot to mention a bit irritable and weepy.

i'm an emotional person- sometimes i feel too much. i put myself in the place of people on crashing planes, wondering what it was like, channelling that terror somehow and creating these nightmarish snapshots of those last seconds- in one i am at my desk at the wtc looking out my window at the view of manhattan; off in the distance i see a plane flying low, getting closer, getting closer, and then it's too close and it's filling up the sky outside my building and i can't even get up to find some cover- in my mind it just flashes that this is it, it will be quick and painless, i won't even have time to be scared- and then in a deafening crash of metal and glass i will be gone.

why do i do this? i have been doing this for 4 days now. sometimes i'm on the ground, running from a dusty rain of debris. sometimes i'm trying to overpower a hi-jacker, sometimes i'm at my desk at the pentagon. sometimes i'm a pilot, wondering if i have the strength to let my crew and passengers be stabbed to death while i find a safe place to land, or whether i should give in to the box-cutters and let the thugs into the cockpit... and most horribly, sometimes i'm a citizen of new york city, and i'm waiting and waiting for a phone call from my mother/fiancee/boyfriend/father/friend/etc because i haven't heard from them and they work in tower one and why haven't they called and why has nobody called me about the flyers i have put up all over downtown and why didn't i tell them i loved them tuesday morning etc. etc. etc.?

i can only imagine the pain people are going through. i am so sorry.

i am just so sorry.

Friday, September 14

this one takes the cake- can i sue pat robertson or jerry falwell for slander? or libel? because i, just by existing, have apparently caused this terrorism. and by broadcasting this message to the millions of mindless bleating sheep that eat this hate speech up, they are doing injurious harm to my reputation and person.

(oh, and by the way: "pagan" refers to anyone not baptist- that includes all you hell-bound catholics and muslims and buddhists- and he throws in pro-choicers and feminists just for kicks - wow! it's everybody's fault!).

fucking assholes, the both of them.

(from cnn)
Falwell apologizes to gays, feminists, lesbians
September 14, 2001 Posted: 2:55 AM EDT (0655 GMT)


LYNCHBURG, Virginia (CNN) -- The Rev. Jerry Falwell said late Thursday he did not mean to blame feminists, gays or lesbians for bringing on the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington this week, in remarks on a television program earlier in the day.

On the broadcast of the Christian television program "The 700 Club," Falwell made the following statement:

"I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'"

Falwell, pastor of the 22,000-member Thomas Road Baptist Church, viewed the attacks as God's judgment on America for "throwing God out of the public square, out of the schools. The abortionists have got to bear some burden for this because God will not be mocked."

But in a phone call to CNN, Falwell said that only the hijackers and terrorists were responsible for the deadly attacks.

"I do believe, as a theologian, based upon many Scriptures and particularly Proverbs 14:23, which says 'living by God's principles promotes a nation to greatness, violating those principles brings a nation to shame,'" he said.

Falwell said he believes the ACLU and other organizations "which have attempted to secularize America, have removed our nation from its relationship with Christ on which it was founded."

"I therefore believe that that created an environment which possibly has caused God to lift the veil of protection which has allowed no one to attack America on our soil since 1812," he said.

Pat Robertson, host of the 700 Club program, seemed to agree with Falwell's earlier statements in a prayer during the program.

"We have sinned against Almighty God, at the highest level of our government, we've stuck our finger in your eye," said Robertson. "The Supreme Court has insulted you over and over again, Lord. They've taken your Bible away from the schools. They've forbidden little children to pray. They've taken the knowledge of God as best they can, and organizations have come into court to take the knowledge of God out of the public square of America."

National Gay and Lesbian Task Force Executive Director Lorri L. Jean bristled at the idea that gays and lesbians had anything to do with the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon that may have left thousands dead, and demanded an apology from Falwell.

"The terrible tragedy that has befallen our nation, and indeed the entire global community, is the sad byproduct of fanaticism. It has its roots in the same fanaticism that enables people like Jerry Falwell to preach hate against those who do not think, live, or love in the exact same way he does," she said.

"The tragedies that have occurred this week did not occur because someone made God mad, as Mr. Falwell asserts. They occurred because of hate, pure and simple. It is time to move beyond a place of hate and to a place of healing. We hope that Mr. Falwell will apologize to the U.S. and world communities."

Falwell told CNN: "I would never blame any human being except the terrorists, and if I left that impression with gays or lesbians or anyone else, I apologize."


hey, thanks for that sputtering, half-hearted "sorry," jerry. here's a little hate of my own:

FUCK YOU.

Thursday, September 13

and so it begins-

(swiped from news source)
Arab-Americans and Muslims fear backlash

Muslim- and Arab-American leaders condemned the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and pleaded with the American public not to take out its anger on their communities. But with federal authorities focusing on exiled Saudi terrorist Osama bin Laden as their prime suspect, vitriolic anti-Arab and anti-Muslim messages were spreading on the Internet, windows of a Texas mosque were shot out and threatening phone calls were made to groups in Washington, Los Angeles and San Jose. In one Colorado town, some men allegedly threatened to burn down a mosque.


the texas mosque is in irving, which is a few miles outside of dallas- and there is more of this ignorant-hillbilly-shotgun-justice bullshit coming, i'm sure. that's how they do things in hicksville... sigh.

thanks to those nyc bloggers who have sent out emails or posted to their sites that they are fine and alive- good to see you guys are all right, and i sincerely hope all friends and family are accounted for- this must be so terrible for you all- good luck, and we are all thinking of you-

Tuesday, September 11

i drop willy off at the airport this morning and can't let him go- i have this overwhelming urge to tell him repeatedly that i love him- i go out to the car, and go back inside to kiss him, go back out, go back inside to kiss him again. finally, i leave and head for school- i hear that a plane has crashed into the wtc and think it's a private plane or something tiny, like when the empire state building got hit years ago. i get a breakfast taco at the union and sit down to watch the news- and see a giant hole in one of the towers- and then an explosion and another hole in the other- we are all dumbfounded. in shock. suddenly the reporter says there has been an explosion at the pentagon- smoke is pouring out- some women behind me start to sob- we go back to the towers and see a huge chunk break off and fall, a giant yellow cloud of smoke and debris that blankets downtown- footage of people covered in grey dust, like they have been rolled in dirt or sawdust or mud- women behind me are wailing- cell phones feverishly appearring and uncles and aunts and grandmothers and friends being called- my friend d_____ is crying, as his father is due to fly out of ny that morning and he won't answer his cell phone- and then i was wandering around, disbelieving. i still don't believe it, and i'm sure you nyc bloggers feel like you've been dropped down into some surreal limbo- the blog accounts are harrowing- i'm glad you guys are all right and alive-

i don't think i have ever taken to the streets to rejoice that a palestinian was blown up, nor handed out candy and chanted hateful anti-palestine anything. assholes.


WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON?

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?


Monday, September 10

nope, not working like i would like it.

so fuck it.

i'm so cranky today, and have no patience for noodly web shit not working. maybe later.


well, i think i have fixed the comment thingy too- what a pain the ass this all is. for me, anyway. all this techie crap does not come easily for me- i just plink and plonk away here and hope for the best. other bloggers had "comment" issues too, something about reblogger's server or something. i hope this works now, or it's history.

more later, i just got in and i need to eat-

Sunday, September 9

oh. god. my. head.

oh. god.

my.



heeeaaaaad.





oh.


so it's two-thirty in the morning and i just got in and i'm a little drunky-poo.

for the first time ever in my life i went to a strip mall and did kareoke with a bunch of kids ten years younger than me- and what a night it was. the song selection was just what i thought it would be: heavy on the anthems, heavy on the power ballads, and surprisingly, heavy on the spice girls. i abstained from a riveting and soul-searching rendition of "two become one," which i must confess has always been referred to by willy and i as "our song." cack. there's no explaining the cutesy things one agrees to when one is in love.

anyway. as i sat there on a couch watching all these kids drunkedly belt out renditions of "bohemian rhapsody" and "everybody hurts" and "under the sea," all of their arms locked around each other, all of them struggling to keep each other standing, i got a little misty-eyed.

i was glad for them, as i remember nights like this, when your friends are everything in the world to you, and even though you might not remember the specifics the next morning you still were positive that you had had a great time. they will look back on this night of kareoke in a miserable and bland shopping center with such fondness, and one day with teary nostalgia, like i did. because although i had never done such a ridiculous thing as screech out "barbie girl" at the top of my lungs before (and i did tonight), the sense of brotherhood and sisterhood and camraderie was familiar and touching to watch. i have loved nights like this before, and i loved tonight.

i was also glad they decided to ask me along, as i was "really cool for a 26 year old.

ahem.

HUGS AND KISSES TO THE WORLD, FROM AN OLD DRUNKEN SOFTIE! AND GOODNIGHT!

Thursday, September 6

a conversation:

boy:
"so who in here would you sleep with?"
girl:
"oh my god, i can't tell you that. because what if you told that person, and then they thought i liked them? i don't like them like that, but i'd do them."
"what do i have to gain by telling anyone anything? i'm just curious, and besides, i'll tell you mine."
"okay. but swear."
"i swear."
"okay, i'll write it down one letter at a time. you guess it."
"fine."
(writes the letter "k")
"oh my god! k___?"
"no! but he is cute. although one time he cornered me in the shop and i thought was a little...er...aggressive."
"oh, he's not like that. he's a little awkward because he is shy. he doesn't think on his feet too well."
"well, all the same: it turned me off him forever."
"that's funny. because he is actually my pick for who i'd sleep with."
"ha! well, you still haven't guessed."
"um... oh! i know! is it k_____?"
"yes! but you can't tell a soul. we hooked up once, but that's all."
"were there sex parts exposed at any one time?"
"no! just a little making out."
"did you decide that it was just better to be friends? somehow, when i was your age, i had managed to sleep with all my best friends- and it was never a weird thing, just something to giggle about later. and we always stayed friends, which i understand is not always the case."
"yeah, we just liked each other too much to be more than friends, i think."
"okay. who have you had a non-sexual crush on?"
"um...c____."
"no! yuck! how in the world can you explain that? he's so.. so... neuter. he's neither boy or girl."
"i don't know, it just happened. but it didn't last."
"well, i had a huge crush on a_______ last year, after seeing him in that play. when he came out with a cigarette and those boots, oh my god. i was like... boing! i mean, ha-cha-cha."
"ha ha ha! i know! but i never had a thing for him, i don't know why. everyone else did."
"well i got over it, once i got to know him. he's too much of a...guy. you know what i mean? he's so... normal. which appealled to me then. now i just like him a lot as a friend though. w____ has a huge thing for him, did you know that? it's ridiculous."
"okay, who else?"
"well, if i tell you this, you can't tell anyone. you have to promise."
"of course."
"s_____."
"wow. that's interesting. but i can see why- she is really sweet, but also has a secret mean side. that probably appeals to you."
"ha! it does. and i haven't told anyone about having a crush on a girl before."
"oh, honey. it's no big deal. i mean, you are in your twenties, it's just what you do. this is your time to screw around and try new things- why not have a fling with a woman?"
"well, i did."
"oh my god! really? how great! was it fun?"
"yes, and i don't regret it. but it's not what i want, i'm sticking with boys."
"when i was your age i had already had a couple of 3-ways, a 5-way, and a bonafide orgy- boys and girls. i had tried everything but heroin, and drank myself into a stupor too many times to count. that's what being in your twenties is all about."
"i haven't been in an orgy, but i've done a few of those things too- i mean, i'm in college, why not?"
"why not indeed!"
"i can't believe i told you some of that. some people would be all shocked and judgmental about it."
"well, listen. i'm pretty unshockable. and really... who am i to judge you?"



i missed this aspect of being in school. i'm glad i'm back.


the "a" problem is solved!

(knock on wood)

and all it took was a little trial-and-error with the template, go figure. sometimes i amaze myself.
not really.

(p.s. on the bus tonight a really ugly punkrockgirl hauled out her equally ugly punkrockboyfriend's dick and gave it a few hearty tugs- which could have been kind of hot if they hadn't both smelled like pee.)

quoth the wino at the back of the bus:

"GEDDAH ROOOOOM FUCKERSSSSS!"

nighty night!



Wednesday, September 5

I MISSED THE DAMN BUS!

(not figuratively, but literally)

no car tonight, i'm hoofing it i guess. so, no big funny post tonight- i have to start making my long journey home-

and thank you to bill for his comments about the "a" problem below... i will look at this more carefully tomorrow. what a pisser! bad code! well, i have a monkey's skills at html, so i'm not surprised.

and there are others of you that might follow bill's lead and leave me a comment or two every so often so i know you are reading/caring. i know, it's fairly weenie-ish of me, but i'm a little fragile lately and need the boost. ::sniff::

i'm kidding. sort of.

so click away, and leave me some feedback. all three of you.

Tuesday, September 4

where did these capital "a" thingies come from at the top of all my posts? anyone? before i send an indignant email off to blogger?


well, here i am, still on my little mini-vacation...lots of floating around in pools and gawking at tits and asses- pina coladas and mexican beer, huge dinners with old friends and visits to all the old haunts.

yes, it's another wonderful long weekend in dallas.

we are actually about to get on the road home, as soon as the storms let up- that's right, it's raining again. we had beautiful warm (notice i did not say hot) weather for the last few days though, so a little rain is okay. today.

it is well known that i hate the hell-like hot here in texas, and adore rain and cooler weather, but on holidays like labor day or memorial day when i'm wanting to lounge around in the water i'd prefer a little sunshine.
and so we had it.

and personal eighties coup of the century: found sigue sigue sputnik's "flaunt it" on cd, and it's the uk import with original commercials and movie samples- i've bid for it on ebay before but it is so long out of print here that it's always too much. and i know i could probably order it from amazon or something, but that takes the thrill of the hunt away- anyway, it was a seminal part of my high school listening, and now i have it again. in digital.

see? nothing much going on here.

which is just the way i wanted this holiday to be.

Saturday, September 1

had the annual "meet and greet" meeting today for the department- everyone introduced themselves, and of course there were the standard "look at me! look at me!" comedy routines from some of the more attention-challenged students (when a simple "my name is ___________ and i am a sophomore" is most appropriate). all of this was followed by some typically goofy neo-shamanist clap-trap, a real hollow "love in" about how we should "honor our spirits" and burn sage sticks or something. don't ask. just remember, half the faculty quit or transferred out. the end.

we are going on vacation until tuesday, so i'll speak to you then- or maybe i'll use my friend's mac and send you a message or two-

all you homos at southern decadence have fun! better you than me!

hee hee hee.

smoochies,
p.



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