9/17/12

Mortally Adorable: Two Nights by Joan Diddy Un



Kind of too epic, these nights. I meant to say before, last week, about last weekend's epic nights too. But they made me so sick last week I almost smudged them out of my memory. And now it's been so long... I'll do my best though.



That Friday, the before last Friday, PLD and I met up, packed up our things, acoustic guitar and my cello and the keyboard, and went to Dixon Place to perform at Jason & Jill's CRAFT FOR YOUR LIFE talk show/art show. The other guests were John Early and Travis Steele Sisk and they were real fantastic, of course, but the main stars of the night were Jason and Jill. How wonderful they were and what a treat to be part of that show. If you're in NYC you should come to any performance they ever do.



B0DYH1GH performed, of course, as the musical guest. We did an acoustic, drone-y, scary and fun version of Cat Power's 1996 American masterpiece "Nude as the News". Perfect Little Daniel worked very closely with Chan Marshall's original text (source material) limning out a sense of foreboding, imminent doom and disaster that the original composition seems to merely hint at. I played the cello, contributing some dissonance. Right? I was sick, PLD seemed to be sick too: we had Cat Power Cocktails (tequila and soda). After the show we walked up to the subway with Brian Belukha and Ben Ha'Bear, the JUDY boys, and got cheap pizza and saw lots of people on the corner of Astor Place swearing that it was legal for them to try to sell us drugs (we didn't buy any). It was so weird.

PLD and I went home to drop off the gear, then high-tailed it back to Manhattan to go to dear heart Paul Icon's birthday roast. We were late and so missed most of the actual roasting. Caught the last little bit though. It was hilarious, and sweet, and really kind of "in-your-face". I could never in a million years have a roast at one of my birthdays. I don't have that kind of skin. After the formal presentation, Paul's friends, sexy kids all, had a dance party. I drank some blueberry vodka and soda it was delicious, but probably not good for my sickness. They had a real nice snack table at that party. Lots of fruit and skewers and cute boys and everyone liked all the music.

Oh, and it was carpeted, too, this fantastic apartment. Carpeted and air-conditioned. In an interview a few years ago, Björk draws this distinction between Matthew Barney and her. She says that Barney likes being the city, but she likes nature. She describes her ideal circumstances, and I can't find the quote but I think it's something like, her idea of heaven is being out in the woods somewhere with birds flying around her and a deer licking her hand. Not to imply any commonalities between M. Barney and I, but my idea of heaven is a carpeted, air-conditioned apartment in the West Village. So two Friday nights ago I went to heaven and I was sick but I didn't mind. I had taken a lot of Sudafed, which I never do, so I guess that explains it.

After the birthday party, we went to Greenpoint to see Miss Teebs, Miss Jessica Paps, Miss Diego, Miss Lola, and the out-of-out visitor Miss Mickey Pussy. Oh, my gosh! Such a brief, altogether too-too brief rendezvous, at a charming little Greenpoint minitime black-hole called (I think) the No-Name Bar? I was pretty drunk. I didn't stay that long but I hugged a lot and took the bus home.



No, wait. I didn't take the bus home. I took the bus to the subway stop, but it was 3am and I was starving so I went to get one of those fancy sandwiches at Hana. There, I ran into an old boyfriend but we didn't say hello to each other. I felt kind of territorial, being at my late-night sandwich shop. He looked good. But you know what? I also look good. And while so few things in life are graded on a curve: my ex always looked good, and so him looking good now isn't that big of a surprise. But when we were going out, many years ago, I wasn't that cute, and I'm a lot, so very much, cuter now. So I feel like that's superior somehow.



But you know what? Anyone can get an A. The trick is, can you keep it? Maybe it's harder to stay cute, to stay the same, than it is to allow yourself to change, blossom, ripen and rot. The way I've been doing it. Just being mortal. Just being Mortally Adorable.

The point is I stood my ground and got my sandwich and went home after the epick night.

Last Wednesday, B0DYH1GH performed at Gio Black Peter's party, SUPER BISEXUALS at Sugarland. We wanted to do something new as well as something which would be easily portable, meaning that we wouldn't have to bring along our fantastic musical instruments for. So after much soul-searching PLD and I came up with an homage to this historic performance.



Our act at SUPER BI was pretty much exactly like that. We fucking NAILED it. Such a wonderful evening.



This past Friday I hung out at Lola's new apartment, listening to Donna Summer LPs and talking about the Jewish New Year and sexy queer witchy rabbis. Just hanging out. Also talking about boys.

I have perilously little to say in this regard, these days. I might not mind that.

So then after chilling till midnight, Lola and I went to The Metro, where we saw Teebs and Ha'Bear and Boogers and old college Chums including Bennetrice Madison and Frank OMGblog. The place was p-a-c-k-e-d and when they closed down the back patio at 1am I knew I it was time for me to hit the fucking road, right? The point is that I knew I was to have an epick night on Saturday.



And I did. It was a beautiful day, Saturday. I had a beautiful time. In the evening, early dusk, Sam and I, who are newly neighbors, met up and went to a very chic art opening in the East Villlage, in someone's apartment. Sam's work was in the show, as well as a cast of literally international superstars, loosely-organized around the theme of The Picture of Dorian Gray. The art was fantastic, for one thing. Buddy Tyler joined us at the opening, as did Paul, another of the artists in the show. Got to see Miss Matt Nasser as well, which was long overdue and entirely a treat. Miss Nasty if you're Nasser is organizing the art who at La MAMA featuring Stevie Hanley and Sophie Iremonger. I'm very excited to see the show and told Matt as much at the opening. The apartment was gorgeous and they had two small dogs there and a cage full of parakeets, and a no-shoes rule, which wasn't being strictly enforced but I do like to play by the rules. And an open bar and a snack table with vegan spring rolls. We had such a great time, being there early until not even that late, drinking sparkling wine and talking about art and men and beauty, etc. But, you know, the night was young. We left the East Village, I ate some gross $1 pizza (ugh) and we got in a car to go to the FiDi (Financial District) to go to China Chalet for the launch part of a new magazine having to do with Sex.

Punctual as we were, I guess the rest of the party hadn't arrived. We went up the street to the charming McDonald's bistro where I got (ugh ugh) a milkshake. I've lived in New York for seven years and I've never been to a McDonalds here, and I guess I just broke my streak. Feel only a little ashamed. Fortified with milkshakes we went back to the Chalet and had a Chinese Chalet Cocktail but still the crowds were slow in arriving. We didn't see much of this magazine, or anything having to do with it. And while the Chalet was carpeted (which was nice) and you could smoke indoors (a Continental indulgence, to be sure) we were pooped. As we left, we saw some friends coming but told them we were just leaving. Sorry guys, enjoy the Sex Magazine Party.

We took a cab to beautiful historic Williamsburg to go to the Badussy & Reggay party at Public Assembly. A soupçon of schmoozing got us a discounted door entry and I did dance for a bit, before burning out and declaring that I would go home. But I didn't go home, I went just up the street to This "N" That, Williamsburg's newest gay bar, formerly known as the Cove. apparently so new that some of the clientele didn't know it was a gay bar. But how could you not? I saw a very nice, totally inspirational drag queen give a nice little speech and song and dance number about believing in yourself. That's one piece of advice (the advice to believe in yourself) that you can never hear too many times. Thanks, Queen!

Having grown bored of This 'N That (mind you, the fourth place I went to that night) I ran into Maffew and Daniel outside on North Sixth and we all went to the Metropolitan. There it was Gag and that was fun, I guess. So many laughter/jokes. At Metro though I ran into Gio Black Hot Chili Peter and also Chris and Tyler. We went to Sugarland (yes) where another judicious soupçon of schmooze got us through the door without the cover fee. Sugarland's green lazers were their usual mix of welcoming and bracing. We had fun at Sugarland, for sure. All retired for the afterparty at Chris digs and after the sun came up we all went home, having laughed and had just so much fun. I very very rarely stay up so late.



Sunday morning I had an understandably splitting headache. I felt really horrible. Like, amazingly so. Still, I managed to get my act together and do the things I needed to do, meaning grocery shopping and my laundry. And I took out my air conditioner, because it's no longer so hot.



I watched Johnny Mnemonic and went to bed quite early, dulled, stupefied by my hangover headache. Was it worth it? I don't know. Keanu Reeves is so good in that movie, even though it's mostly awful. He plays, basically, a hard-drive who's overloaded himself. He whines constantly about how full he is of data.

Also Henry Rollins plays a renegade surgeon. I'm not surprised that Hank is a natural, sensitive actress.

I always knew she had it in her.

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