today i bought a clothesline for my new backyard at family dollar. there was a warning label on it: “this clothesline is not intended to be used in ways that might damage your health.” like, hanging yourself? auto-erotic-asphyxiation? the brand name for this particular clothesline was “family values”. shudder.
moving day was, weirdly, so much fun. it involved most of my pittsburgh favorites, and we all sweated and grunted and moved and then when we were done we lined up in height order in front of the u-haul. aaryn wanted us to hold each other like we were at the prom, and then pino drove up as we were taking the picture, yelling, “oh, it looks like i arrived just in fucking time!”
and then we went to my house and everyone liked it and then we got all the furniture in with a minimum of mishaps (except for my endless girly scream) and then lounged around eating pizza and giggling. and then back to my house for the mattress & the furniture going to the faggots. eric, aaryn & i rode in the cargo part of the u-haul, and it was oddly hilarious. the door kept blowing open and we made all manner of inappropriate jokes that i won’t repeat here.
and then we all went to shea’s grandma’s house for swimming. literally 30 seconds after the straight men went home, me and monica hurled our bathing suits off & pretty soon everyone was frolicking naked. playing volleyball, jumping off the diving board, making out (not me, but other people), etc. it was a really good ending to a hot sweaty day. life sure does take you places, huh?
Filed under: wingnuts
so. i am obsessed with this thing , which is called the bonsai story generator, which turns ordinary pieces of writing into weird surrealist poetry. it’s very illuminating. just for fun while at work, i fed the last few weeks of this blog into it. here are the highlights of what came up (the original result was, like, 8 pages, and nobody wants to read that, i’m sure.
every little bit of sustaining a functional bike, i was a dorky-yet-sweet old yeller” because if they just verified my hammock & listening to my friends who are from san diego i need compassion, i was just wants drugs.” and had fun.
i was watching “the simpsons” or maybe early 90’s song “whoomp!
there was a part of the radio yesterday i think, although i could think, the kitchen or may not too bad.
man!
i am trying to sober up, like i was brightly lit and i happily read it aloud to my boss’ lousy health, vegetable gardens.
and i know is this following convo ensued.
normal person.
in a panic searching for you.
why would i woke up there used to be a part of town.
lots of things in the other day where i guess, as i’ve ever i think she’s willing to overlook that barrier, but i spent all winter & spring waiting for an extended period of abandonment you didn’t know, is always making it beat irregularly too.
i thought that happened this neighborhood….safe?
landlady: oh, yeah!
to this day, i realized that every emotion i don’t really know anyone to complete me.
perhaps to a new photo i.d.
card and it some more than a huff, i need coffee can you people are so many times have you ever had the state office all day; i’m trying to sober up, like growth & change.
if you commit any FAO schwartz without my life has a tattoo of evil, evil whereas i don’t really recently, and we had a good people.
*speaking of elementary school.
that was thrown out fully woken up i have the satisfaction of writing, i haven’t gotten any emails that unintentionally offend people i’ve ever known.
don’t think she’s willing to overlook that barrier, but i feel that you’ve failed yr way.
cuz singlehood isn’t this weekend.
after she got it.
that i’ve been through a disease where i could hear the gospel!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i don’t really was and it sucks, all day, about that, about it made and we got home, a.
was 12 or walk by any FAO schwartz store, which, if the people i’ve ever had the satisfaction of time winter break, no this used to be surrounded by all this other world.
he was crying hysterically, so many reasons to stay: easy life, cheap massage certificate, i lost my heart feel like my abusers to be a tattoo of other things, like how you know what on a nice day, where the families paused in was gentrifying rapidly, & we left, but i have is subject of barbie dolls came home dressed like the reason why would i had more and i happily read me this intense man host, wishing people they just wants drugs.” and one of a computer, bangin out fully decorated, as thomas builds-the-fire or, i blew bubbles that i could have i packed and hustled me at how much i need a hot dyke when i am relatively certain that i’ve rarely heard: “NONE OF YOU PEOPLE GIVE A SHIT!
NONE OF YOU HAVE ANY HEARTS!
I’M DYING AND YOU HAVE ANY HEARTS!
I’M DYING AND NONE OF YOU JUST WALK ON BY!!” i lost my dick!’, and minneapolis for that yet.
he just wants drugs.” and began hanging out with a cardboard sign saying what i finish this year has a disease cuz friendships aren’t just yet.
i knew she got off and began another unremarkable night and i happily read it aloud to not have been all day, about the most of my boss’ lousy health, vegetable gardens.
and it sucks, all i can feel that wasn’t completely utterly lied to.
my skin crawling ironically, i needed to florida to the city to do you always making extremely obvious comments, if i hadn’t lost my wallet, i’d be surrounded by my landlady is fucking johns.
they exchanged a panic searching for you.
why do you commit any crimes here, you put that sitting at the dying giant piano keys and living life.
if you commit any emails in their drunkenness that makes you didn’t.
PEOPLE WITH PETTY DEALBREAKERS ARE AFRAID TO LOVE!
dude: have a space where a gigantic three-story clock sang a sobering realization.
and yelling like how you and that stuff like why would have enjoyed, even matter.
lately the universe has a tattoo of clarity and he looked fascinated as i’ve ever ”this is really important, & something else, totally unrelated, that was thrown in the kitchen or fifteen people when i do remember a single thing about how she has a two-year commitment to pittsburgh.
it’s something i would have enjoyed, even though i totally would i want to do, provided i was at book ‘em, the satisfaction of evil, evil whereas i need coffee that won’t make my heart broke its bringing up somehow.
& the whole skilletful, except for you.
the great early 2004, before all the hell i am rather dry.
i thought that helps put them in “and he is holding] oh, it’s SO GOOD.
you only hear the slight noise & all good.
i was just beginning to do tourist-y stuff.
we were driving down the other day where i didn’t want to see his family to my skool, read blogs of amazing writing i cracked page 100 on my heart feel like the office we left, but i’ve already forgotten it.
oh, my hair.
like, what that’s what i mean?
me: [smiles, walks towards oakland.
we went to fall in love with each other kidz in my soon-to-be-former neighborhood, and i think is really important, & something similar to listen to tell her.
sigh.
oh, i was around gaily, where cute toys smiled at that angsty teen stage, which sound gross but there was over, but i guess, as if the cold, gritty streets of fun.
i say depths.
[and on and on and on. i deleted about 90% of what came out.]
*i was at the dying giant eagle (r.i.p.) in my soon-to-be-former neighborhood, and this intense man came up to me–skinny, crudely tattooed, wild-eyed. he may or may not have been boxcar billy from a few entries back. anyway, we had the following conversation in the frozen foods aisle.
dude: have you ever had the stouffer’s chipped beef? it’s AMAZING?
me: nah.
dude: you put that in your microwave, and then you make some toast! [waves loaf of white bread he is holding] oh, it’s SO GOOD. you oughta try it!
me: i don’t really eat meat.
dude: well, hon, i’m sorry, but i got THE MUNCHIES real bad, know what i mean?
me: [smiles, walks towards cheese]
*the other day at book ‘em, the subject of barbie dolls came up somehow. my very favorite ex-con, who’s a fairly rough dude, looked away sadly and said, so that it was barely audible, “i wish they’d stop making them things.” it was, oddly, really touching.
*i was having this intense dream that this furry i used to work with had gotten a map tattooed on his penis & i was watching this pretentious art-skool movie about it. i was awoken by my landlady coming in to show the place (i knew she was coming; i just overslept) to this normal person. in case you didn’t know, my landlady is fucking amazing and one of the funniest people i’ve ever known. and this following convo ensued.
normal person: is this neighborhood….safe?
landlady: oh, yeah! you don’t have any problems, right, ocean? [i nodded yes sleepily]. in fact, this is a ‘weed-and-seed’ community, which means that if you commit any crimes here, you do federal time! so that really cleaned this place up….
me: what?!?! that’s what that means? i thought that meant that people in this community really like to garden!!!
landlady: oh, no, this used to be a really tough neighborhood, but they cleaned this place up. there used to be a lot of prostitutes here, but a lot of them got arrested. of course, they didn’t arrest the fucking johns. they never do, because if they did, there would be no Congress!
*in my endless quest to find not-annoying-but-not-distracting music to listen to while i write, i have turned to AM radio. yesterday i stumbled upon this croatian radio show, featuring a dorky-yet-sweet old man host, wishing people with old-fashioned names like herbert and doris happy birthdays, and cajoling listeners to “give [him] a jingle” at his home phone number! there was something sweet and trusting about that, about giving out your home phone number and address on the radio because you know that there’s probably only ten or fifteen people listening and you can trust that they’re all good people.
*speaking of writing, i cracked page 100 on my book yesterday!!!!!!!! (the book i’m writing, not one i’m reading). wow!
last night i sang “no scrubs” at blue moon karaoke with amanda & amy, and it was really gratifying (even if TLC do repeat themselves over and over again). i love that song. i remember one summer when it was popular, me and eric and kastoory were driving around listening to the radio, and that song was on, and we were by this basketball court where all these hot-but-losery townies played ball, and kastoory randomly leaned out the window (of her best friend’s ride) and hollered “GO TO COLLEGE! DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR LIVES!” just as TLC was warning of the scrubs doing just that. well, probably not yelling “go to college,” but you know. it was a truly great moment of synchronicity, and i felt very happy to be living my life and hanging out with my friends.
everything is kind of in this weird space with me. i found my dream house, like utter dream house, but i’m not sure if i’m going to pass the credit check because i have a bunch of unpaid medical bills from my most recent health scare. but i’m not sure if medical bills infect your credit rating. i feel like i read somewhere that they do not. maybe they do. other than that i’ve been mailing out lots of zines, being anxious and scared about everything, watching good 90’s tv shows (does anyone remember “popular”?) making kale smoothies and the best burritos i’ve ever had (hope in burrito form! and you don’t even have to stand over a hot stove!), etc.
my goals for the summer are 1) stop being embarrassing 2) get rid of my backne, which could conceivably fall under goal #1. i am making good progress on the backne. i don’t know about being embarrassing. i feel really bad and embarrassed pretty much every time i open my mouth, but i keep trying anyway. it doesn’t help that while i was walking to the giant eagle yesterday, a middle-aged woman looked at me and very loudly said, “oooooooooooooookay,” which was kind of funny, but also kind of mean.
my current favorite thing is this slab of plywood on eden way (between 44th & 45th. look for it if you’re in the hood). when i moved in, there was this beautiful drawing on a piece of cloth glued to it. then, a few months later, someone wheatpasted what appeared to be a woodcut print beneath it. then, a few days ago, someone put what looked like a print-out of a graphic design. then, a line drawing of birds. then, a few days later, a tag. it is so spontaneous and beautiful. amanda suggested i put up a poem; i’m thinking of it. pictures to follow, once branden gets his ass back to pittsburgh and helps me pick out a quality digital camera!
i just had the following illuminating conversation with my 78-year-old boss.
boss: [client] is behaving this way because he’s a simpleton.
me: simpleton? (chuckles) i haven’t heard that word in so long!
boss: (not missing a beat) well, he is one. most people are. it is our job to save them from their simpleness.
i think you had to be there and hear our vocal inflections. it was a good conversation though. another client of ours, who could conceivably filed under “simpleton” as well, stopped by in a panic about something and wanted to use my phone. it’s reasonably hot out, but he was completely drenched in sweat. perhaps i should have let him use the other phone, because when he handed the receiver back to me, it was covered in sweat. “sorry,” he said sheepishly. i am not normally squeamish, but i wiped it off with a paper towel.
so! tired! ever since i had a minor freak-out earlier this week i’ve been making myself get up at 8am, no matter how late i get to bed the night before. it’s oddly soothing. and oddly, i don’t really feel that bad, despite the fact that i haven’t eaten or slept properly all week. last night i dreamnt i was in buenos aires, but it was very dull and full of blockbuster video stores. the night before, my ex-girlfriend’s new girlfriend appeared to me in a dream, and god is she annoying. but who has time for dreams? there are novels to be written, tendons to be healed, phones to be ignored, episodes of “the simpsons” on DVD to be watched (thank you, library!), vegetables to be watered, process-y emails to be written, girls to be sighed over, fake tattoos to be drawn, legal documents to be typed, stories to be told, stories to be told, stories to be told. i’ve gotta get them all out before i die. and who knows when that’ll be.
i was feeling like shit all week, really like unlovable uncaredfor untouchable shit, and yesterday i walked for hours. bikey was broken so i walked to shadyside, hugged old co-workers, walked to the library and read for hours, and then walked home. so long. so necessary. the clouds were hanging lovely over the mountains & i walked home at sunset and it was just what i needed. walking home i felt like i’d be okay. whether that’s true or not is debatable, but that feeling is always a good one.
ha! i just wrote something genuine, and i erased it. one of the things i miss the most about being young was how i was unafraid to be genuine, even if it was dorky. BUT i was a much huger dork back then. i still feel as if i am both genuine and dorky, but not to the extreme level that i used to take it to. i like taking things to extremes. i have a crush, very newly minted, on someone who is not extreme at all; a genuinely normal-seeming person. i don’t know how i feel about that! but maybe, hopefully, appearances are deceiving and she’s just as crazed as i am. or, at least, we can bone down and part ways as friends, as wacky memories. keep your fingers crossed for me, gentle reader.
okay, so, usually i dislike pride a lot. i’ve never had a genuinely good time before, it’s usually painfully hot (or, during the philly dyke march, 60 degrees and pouring rain), and i am socially anxious and see all manner of annoying people.
but in places like pgh, being openly queer is far more important than it is in new york or even philly. so i went to pride and i actually had an amazing time. i am far too tired to write anything coherant about it, so here is a list of random highlights:
*freakin’ out the squares downtown, maaann
*someone in my party coming up with the term “lesbiyinz”
*mis-reading someone’s “lesbians for obama” shirt as “lesbians for drama.” i nearly fell over because that’s so goddamn honest and i am not used to such unleashed honesty in shirt form. (anyone who has even a passing acquaintance with lesbians knows that there ain’t no drama like lesbo drama cuz lesbo drama don’t stop!)
*milkshakes!
*productive processing at the lesbian bar
*buying a whole pile of really cute dresses at a yard sale that actually fit (which NEVER happens) and having a fashion show
*dancing with ladies, turning acquaintances into friends
*having this boring generic lesbian hit on me while i was leaning against a wall on the dancefloor by seductively running her glow stick throughout the length of my body, starting at my collar bone, going between my breasts and ending about an inch below my belly button. needless to say, i was not turned on, as this girl a) was not my type at all b) earlier had asked me if i would hate her if she peed in the bathroom sink! c) used a fucking glow stick as a means of seduction! her best friend, a long-haired butch, started yelling at me. “man, that’s my best friend! why aren’t you going for it? she’s so hot!” i was like, “uh, she’s not really my type. i kinda like, um, butch-er girls.” LHB/BFF was all, “like me?” and i was like, “no.” and then she became indignant, yelling, “come on, man! i’m just trying to hook you up! it’s pride weekend! i’m being so nice and you’re being so mean, etc.” eventually they gave up on me, much to my delight.
*meeting a girl who lives in the house that i came extremely close to moving into! i always always wonder what my life would be like if i’d lived there, and now i have a potential new friend who lives there!
*afterhours events in lawrenceville=hee hee hee hee hee. i can’t really elaborate further as anyone can read this blog, but i will say it was just the ridiculous adventure that i wanted to have this weekend.
*dreaming that the march started at 2 and waking up at 12:30 and realizing that, in reality, it started at noon. and i missed it!
*running into branden and aaryn just as they were leaving & branden’s mom was getting a pic taken with some leatherdaddies
*seeing a generic dyke wearing a shirt with a pride flag that said, “these colors don’t run!”
*sitting on the curb eating frenchfries and looking for friends, i was seated next to an older gay dude. a man with a handlebar mustache came up to him and said, in a very dignified voice, “what are you, some kind of guttersnipe? why are you on the curb!?” i will try and use the word “guttersnipe” as much as is humanly possible from now on.
*defying the one-at-a-time rules for the bouncy slide and jumping off holding hands with ali’s girlfriend colleen. scraping the fuck out of my elbow & getting yelled at by the attendant but still glad i did it.
*seeing this super-awesome queer youth theatre group, featuring lesbian twins whose mom was wearing TWO buttons that say “i love my lesbian daughter”!!!!!!! so cute!
*meeting a man wearing this beautifully drawn home-made shirt that said “hugs 4 free” or something like that. hugging him and having him give me a pamphlet (pulled from a fanny pack, of course) that he’d made listing “hug facts” like “the human body needs four hugs a day for survival!”
riding my bike home through the strip district i realized that i have become my best self within the past year. i’m not really sure how or why that’s happened, but i am glad that it did.
Filed under: wingnuts
yesterday i met a man named boxcar billy. he was old, and walking with me, and complained about these annoying dogs that bark at everyone walking down this particular alley. when i agreed he shook my hand and asked my name & said, “i’m boxcar billy.” then he paused and said, “bet you don’t see too many boxcars rolling around on the street, huh?” and that made me like him. i was borderline annoyed before.
then i watched queer as folk & went back to the post office & was denied a PO box yet AGAIN & got grumpy & read books & then tiffini & i went to the classy water steps:
in which i wore my miracle bathing suit: the top and the bottom were purchased separately, two different stores, two different brands, two different states even. yet they match perfectly and combine into the first non-frumpy bathing suit i have had in many years.
the water steps are apparently a very romantic location, as we saw not one but two hetero couples with professional photogs in tow taking pictures that seemed like they’d accompany a wedding invitation. one was a truly generic couple where the dude looked very resentful at having to do this couple-y thing, and the other was a genuinely bizarre couple where the dude was bald and the woman looked like “topanga from boy meets world”, as billy (who met us there) said. when we left, topanga and baldy were getting a romantic picture taken at…the bus shelter?!? there was also a couple who didn’t have a photographer but were just making out in a very foreplay-ish way. oh, heteros.
i hardly slept at all last night. not for good reasons, like mayhem or doin’ it, but because i just couldn’t sleep. i guess the espresso milkshake consumed at 9pm and the whiskey consumed at 11:30 didn’t help matters. i tossed, i turned, i sang that old song that goes, “last night, i couldn’t get to sleep at all (no, no)”, i heard the birds chirp and the recycling truck come and generally fretted. now i am at work & surprisingly coherant, but also mildly annoyed because there is nothing to be done & i could be sleeping.
in the hour or so that i slept, i had a dream that my poems got published on a postcard series & i was super excited, but then realized that the postcard series was bankrolled by women aglow (which is a terrible right wing xtian organization. look them up) and felt terrible.
i am at “work” at the TBH, listening to the local alterna-radio station play fuzzily while reading a book of essays by sarah schulman (heart!). “you know you’re right” by nirvana just came on & it reminded me of something weird. six years ago, on long island for the first time in a long time. i went on a job interview & didn’t bring my bike to the train station because it was 95 degrees out & i didn’t want to be sweaty. i took a cab from the train station in mineola to the job interview (which is another funny story but doesn’t fit in with what i’m trying to say here), went to the job interview (proofreading at a local paper), had literally everyone in the office stop what they were doing and stare at me in shocked silence (oh long island. this was during my closet-tranny period). i walked back to mineola & took the train back to syosset. nobody was home to pick me up, so i got into the cab.
cabs in long island are weird—you don’t get one all to yourself unless you pay top $. usually, you are herded in there with up to 5 other strangers and you get driven all over with them. there’s no meter & drivers charge whatever the hell they feel like. that day, the driver was my favorite one–a mid-20’s white guy with long tennis-ball-colored dreads. he was wearing overalls with no shirt & you could see his pierced nipple. some irritating woman was demanding that he drive her first, alone, and then send someone else to pick up the hordes. “fuck no! you want fucking private service, you call a fucking limo! come on, everyone, get in,” and we all herded in, kind of stunned. as we peeled out of the parking lot, he leaned out, gave her the finger, and yelled, “FUCKING YUPPIE!” everyone laughed. then “you know you’re right” came on the radio, and our cab driver got so happy, like this wave of relief visibly spread through his body. “fuck yeah,” he said, turned it up and headbanged. it made me really happy.
i didn’t take cabs for years before that. an old friend of mine, one i was secretly in love with, got raped by a cabbie when we were all 14 or 15 or so. she was coming home drunk from a party. this was after she stopped talking to me, so i heard it thru the grapevine, but it broke my heart, and for years i avoided cabs at all costs. not because i thought i would be raped, but because i couldn’t stand the thought of tipping the man who raped her. i didn’t know anything about him, but it was a small town, a small cab company. i liked tennis-ball-dreads dude because he was too young to have been working 5 years ago. and because he rocked out to nirvana and wouldn’t tolerate rude yuppies. man, i hate those yuppies too.
Filed under: healthcare woes, the 90's, wingnuts | Tags: disease, fear, karaoke, unsexy twins, wingnuts
a lot of funny things have been happening. the unfunny ones are what is plaguing me, but perhaps the funny ones would make a more interesting blog entry. like: we have two clients at the law firm who are twin brothers. they are both very socially awkward & troubled–my unscientific diagnosis is asbergers’ syndrome in the quiet, well-groomed one and unmedicated manic-depression in the wild-haired one. this is just a guess. they are both very sweet, even if they do call me at work 5 times a day asking questions like, “my phone has been shut off. what do i do?”
anyway, they are selling their dead father’s house, which is why they are in here. yesterday they were hanging out in the waiting room, right next to my desk, waiting for my lawyer to see them. their perky, normal-person real-estate agent was there. i overheard the following conversation:
perky, normal real-estate agent: so, did you get rid of those…problems in your house? [the wild-haired twin has been having roommate issues, to put it lightly.]
wild-haired twin: huh? [pause, then his eyes grow wide, crazy, and bright] oh, you mean the demons and the concubine? i kicked ‘em out!
the demons and the concubine. what precise nicknames. i heart my job.
i also heart a lot of our other clients: the 80-year-old black lady with a foot-high blonde bouffant; the lady who tells the funniest fucking stories about playing pranks on a woman who wore spandex pants with her adult diaper; and more. i could go on and on, but i shan’t.
things are kind of lousy with me, honestly. i am dealing with something that could either be life-ruining or totally benign & i won’t know for a while. the list of evidence in the “life-ruining” column is escalating & the list of evidence in the “not a big deal” column is dwindling. i don’t know how to talk about it, mainly because i am highly superstitious & don’t want to jinx anything. also because it is too scary, because opening my mouth makes my throat close up. mostly i feel like i can deal with anything, but sometimes i don’t think i can deal with this. i asked some girl to come home with me largely because i want someone’s arms around me because i am tired of dealing with this alone. did you know that in acupressure, the trigger points for letting go of grief and deep sadness is at the front of your chest, exactly where someone else’s chest presses against yours when you hug them? i learned this while researching a paper years ago, and i’ve never forgotten it. anyway, that girl didn’t come home with me but i had a good phone convo with one of my best friends, who’s been through this sort of thing before, and in a way that was a lot better.
in brighter news, i have become a karaoke fiend and gotten far more recognition for it than i had ever expected. i remember i lost my stage fright around this time last year at the queer studies department end-of-the-year party, reading poems & finishing up with an amazing piece by david wojnarowicz and i had everyone, i mean they were really truly with me, and they all cheered, and it felt so good. an ex-zine pal once said, “being up at the mic is better than fucking, better than being fucked.” and it’s true.
i don’t have any poetry outlets in the burgh so i just sing songs from the 90’s that i remember hearing on the radio back when the radio mattered. i didn’t think it would mean as much, or be as satisfying, but it’s pretty close. close enough. cindy from doris wrote this amazing piece in “doris” #24 about how she never felt okay until she sang in a band because her scream was powerful & she never knew she had it in her. i scream a lot anyway, but i can totally relate.
