I don't know if I want to write in-depth about the things in my life that bum me out. I want to acknowledge that it is ok to feel bad, but I don't want to give negative thoughts / people any more airtime. Especially when there are so many other things that really cheer me up. So whatever, I felt sort of awful. But it was punctuated by so many really groovy things. And there's a full moon coming up, thank goodness. So at least I'll figure it all out.
One fun thing was that I go-go danced at QxBxRx on Saturday night. I was really feeling insecure about my body but I ended up having the best time. I got a lot of tip money (for me) and had a great time with Richert and the new go-go boy Israel. Standing outside smoking cigarettes on the street in our underpants, people throw a lot of shade at us. It's kind of fucked, cause like obviously you don't become a go-go boy if you hate getting attention... but come on people! Why do you THINK there are three heavily made-up sweaty boys in matching underpants all standing outside of a NIGHTCLUB? Someone wrote a weird "review" of the evening where they complained about everything except for me. I think I know who wrote that, and flattery never goes unpunished. Also, someone posted a Missed Connection about me from that night. So I feel okay about feeling insecure, since apparently no one noticed! Maybe I'll keep the winter weight forever. Anyways. Some fucker tried to pick a fight with me outside. He was super drunk and I told all of my friends to beat him up and they would have except we all saw him try to order a beer at the abr and then fall flat down on his face so ha ha ha.
Finally got to talk to that boy who I think is cute. For, like, a second. It's always at the time when I feel most insecure, least deserving and sure of myself, that the guy I have a secret crush on appears, right? Went with Tommy and Perfect Little Daniel et al to Metropolitan for famous last call. Insanity ensuing.
Saw Joseph Keckler's show Human Jukebox last night. It made me feel really good and redeemed and weirdly optimistic. His shows are kind of like the way Gary Lutz writes-- part of the appeal (for me) is that you get a sense of the machinery at work. But with Joseph it's, like, PERFORMANCE instead of just reading it in a book. Really cool.
Right this second I am eating the most amazing lunch which I made myself. It is a kind of salad made of black beans, quinoa, red onion, red pepper, salsa verde, gala apples, cucumber and chives. And black coffee with agave syrup. And I just got a beautiful vinyl copy of Bratmobile's brilliant Pottymouth. So things are looking up.
I've been reading Erica Jong's Fear of Flying and it is pretty much blowing my mind. I sort of only knew a tiny bit about Erica Jong. Last summer I read Kathy Acker's "Hello I'm Erica Jong" at the Wojnarowicz tribute and it went over really well. I think because people really liked Kathy Acker, not because we all want to make fun of Erica Jong.
I don't want to make fun of Erica Jong. I really appreciate her writing and her cultural significance even / especially if that significance changes dramatically over time. For one thing, she and I both like to write (and therefore like to read) about sex that uses a non-heteronormative power structure. Erica came up with the term "Zipless Fuck", describing it like this:
"The zipless fuck is absolutely pure. It is free of ulterior motives. There is no power game . The man is not "taking" and the woman is not "giving." No one is attempting to cuckold a husband or humiliate a wife. No one is trying to prove anything or get anything out of anyone. The zipless fuck is the purest thing there is. And it is rarer than the unicorn. And I have never had one."
Kind of interesting to map onto the fag idea of "topping" and "bottoming", right? I think I'm onto something. For the record I have had more than a few "Zipless Fucks" in this regard (it's been a long time since Fear of Flying came out in 1973 and also fags are different). I think I might only really have Zipless Fucks. It's the only kind I want. Also, Erica Jong has really cute blond hair and I do too, sometimes. That's another thing we have in common.
The book is also sort of about being married to one's psychoanalyst. This makes me think of my good friend Marcus, who is a writer but is becoming a psychoanalyst. I haven't seen him in a little while because I've been so busy, but I really relish hanging out with him. I wonder if he could become my analyst. I think that might be fucked up, like a conflict of interest, but people fall in love with their analysts all the time, so why can't I be buddies with mine? I sort of want to do a STYLE ICON report on Marcus. He has one of the most realized personal aesthetics of anyone I know. When we met in college he was a punk, doing this sort of effete rocker boy look (which I now emphatically rip off) but some time in our junior year of school Marcus started dressing like someone in a Godard movie. It was really weird because everyone still wanted to talk about Broken Social Scene or whatever (not feeling it), but Marcus just listened to Gainsbourg and drank Maker's and lived in this strange deep red basement room out in queens, writing these socialist missives. Such a cutie patootie! He has two adorable cats and he lives in the East Village and makes really good coffee.
But then I fantasize about him becoming a famous analyst, and then becoming MY analyst, and how inappropriate that might be. Then I think it would probably just look like that scene in the documentary "The Return of Courtney Love" (or whatever) where Courtney Love seeks out Carrie Fisher for advice and they talk about how lovesick and self-destructive they get. And in this fantasy Marcus is Carrie Fisher and I am Courtney Love and I can't really deal with this so I abandon it there.
Jiddy is coming over tonight and we're gonna talk about our performance on Thursday: