Had today off of work, which was nice since tomorrow I begin working full-time in my new position. I'm scared and excited. I spent my free day like a present. I got up extra early to make a new iPod playlist for working out. I woke up this morning totally hell-bent on listening to/rediscovering the s/t Schema album, on 5 Rue Christine.

Anyway it's great. RIP Mary Hansen forever. Listened to that, and IQU (née ICU)'s first album, Chotto Matte A Moment!

I don't know why, but I'm in so into really late 1990s indie/alternative electronica music. Hmm. Like, Land of the Loops? Maybe it's the weather.

SIDENOTE: the night that Mary Hansen died, I was a freshman in college during finals week of my first year. My school threw a breakfast at midnight, since all the students were up writing insane papers. I was tripping on mushrooms for the first (and last) time. It was really overwhelming, a big party in the middle of the night with bright colors, almost all the students were fucked up on something, and they were serving my favorite breakfast treat: Pancakes. I was having a hard time processing. And this cool Junior girl I was friends with, Anna Margaret Hollyman, came up to me in semi-mock horror, and said "Max! Can you believe it?! Mary is DEAD! Have you heard?!" Incidentally, I had not heard. But I also did not know who Anna was talking about. I didn't know anybody named Mary. I was, for a few seconds, totally mortified and tripping my face off. But then she explained and I was sad. Then I told Anna I was tripping so then she started teasing me and it was cute, like "Are you seeing weeeeeeeiiiirrrrdd stuffff??" and I'd go, "No..." since then, Anna grew up to be an indie movie star.

Coolest Girl Ever?

So anyway this morning I went to the gym for a nice long time, since with the new work schedule I might not be able to. Or it'll take a little while with the new schedule to get back into my groove. Which is actually fine, I guess. Going at a later time. That means I'll be in the gym with all the other 9-5ers. And those people are often tired and cranky and a little bossy, when they wait their turn for the gym machines. But you know what? That's fine. I like those people. That is the anger and impatience of the working class. That is OK. The people who go to the Williamsburg Gym during the daytime on weekdays are just awful. Either they're very old people with bad attitudes and poor information about what actually constitutes exercise (they walk on the treadmills, slowly, talking to each other loudly-- I'm sorry, but couldn't you people do that outside?). Or, otherwise, the people at the gym in the daytimes are awful Bedford Avenue yuppies. Gross entitled white people. These are people who act as if the world revolves entirely around them, that they should never have to wait for a machine. They're awful. There is this one guy who is always furious at me when I am on one of the elliptical machines, his favorite, evidently. There are three working machines. And he will often use one of the other ones, sighing loudly and giving me real stink-eye, until I get off of His machine. Fuck the rich. Eat, I mean, the rich. Let's kill them.

I went home to clean up and eat some breakfast, then I spent the rest of my free day traipsing around the Upper East Side. I was sort of walking around listening to music and enjoying the drizzle, I was really grooving on my favorite neighborhood.

HIGHLIGHT: seeing four very tough 15 year-old looking girls, all in matching catholic schoolgirl uniforms, sitting and holding court in the front window of Mimi's Pizza, blithely chewing folded up slices, spinning around on stools, loudly sucking sodas from waxy paper cups. Clearly cutting class. My heroes!

Came home to make some dinner and have a cup of tea. Put my feet up before going back out tonight. Last night was pretty magickal too. My good friend and ex-room mate Jenny (Jennifer aka JuhNeeFah, aka Nifa, aka Katherine, aka Quinn's Mom) gave me a Reiki session, which she has been learning. To really great effect, I think. I had never had that before, it was really cool. I highly recommend it. And if you want to find a good practitioner who has reasonable rates and is very sweet and skilled, then e-mail me and I will put you in touch with her. Killing time before the session, I walked around the East Village, arming myself for the winter and trying to stay open and present in the moment. I mean, I was walking around without my sunglasses on, it gets dark so early, I can't wear sunglasses all the time. It makes me a little self-conscious, but it also makes me notice my surroundings more. I passed a record store with a bin of dollar records out front, and I saw this:

Definitely still not my favorite Laura Nyro album, but I had been wanting Christmas and the Beads of Sweat on vinyl for a couple of weeks now, and was hoping I'd run into a copy. I'm listening to it now. It's sort of poppy, like, by that point in her career, the production had been worked on to the point, and she had been getting to be a big enough star that pop music and fame were things she must have been thinking about. She had had a lot of success by then. So in some respects, I think the record reflects that relationship to publicity. And to her audience (the cover art is from a drawing that a fan handed to her from the audience at a concert). At the same time, it's still a young Laura Nyro, and the lyrics and concepts are obtuse, political, personal, funny, and fucking intense. Anyway. Whatever. Women's Music. So into it, right?

Quick reminder that the band I'm in with Perfect Little Daniel, B0DYH1GH is playing on December 9th at Earl Dax' legendary party / festival / series PUSSY FAGGOT. We will be performing as part of the EAST VILLAGE BOYS Happy Hour, and will have visuals by NewNeeds. PLD and I have been rehearsing, and working on some new songs. We shot some photos with Christian from Arsonist Photography recently, and I can't wait to see how they turn out. PS: Check out Christian's new show, with the legendary Jack Ferver, at PS122: RUMBLE GHOST. SO these are some cool things coming up. There are a bunch more. I have to get on top of all of them!

Here is a video of me performing at the last Pussy Faggot:

Video by Run Shayo. Thanks Earl for uploading it!
Ok I am going to make dinner.

Brr wake up!


Buy Nothing Day Parade

It's officially the holiday season, I guess. It's also time for my annual Laura Nyro obsession. Spending the morning burning incense and working in bed, dusted off my LPs. Thinking a lot, suddenly, about this really cute part in Michele Kort's awesome biography, Soul Picnic:

I dunno. Yesterday Sister Pico and I went to go see that new movie Burlesque starring Cher and Christina Aguilera. It was pretty insane. It made me think of my friend Grey in San Francisco, glad I'm gonna see him when i go home in December. I mean, Cher is kind of really insane and intense, to begin with. I just saw Moonstruck the other day, and was thinking about how beautiful Cher's face is in that movie:

Gorgeous, right? Well, Cher also looks really great in her new movie. She looks a little bit different now.

I watched a lot of Bad Girls Club last night. It was kind of insane. Also very inspiring, in terms of, like: what not to do. Here is what I remembred not to do: be a jerk. Those girls are jerks! Sometimes. I mean, they have fun too. It's a gamble. (Thinking a lot about gambling these days).

What else about today? It's noon and I still need to pick out my outfit.

Ten years ago, my BFF Jessicka and I went to the San Francisco Buy Nothing Day Parade / Protest. I do not remember exactly how, but we ended up carrying the banner.

That is me in the center, chubby 16 year old in a Kill Rock Stars T-Shirt. I remember being really scared, because I was wearing these Doc Marten's boots which I had just gotten (and are still at my parents' house in California). And I felt like it was really hypocritical to have leather on at that protest. It was really peaceful, nonviolent, etc. But there were totally cops everywhere. It was the first time I had ever really seen the police like that. There were all these fake police, narcs, undercover cops or whatever. Guys in "plain clothes" with dark glasses and black earpieces, who would just kind of... stand around, listening to groups of crust punks plan the parade route. It was also really strange to see these politically radical punk kids, all in dark glasses, giving out fake names. I mean. Inspiring but weird.

I'm still not shopping today. But that's because I'm broke. And also because Susan Miller advised against spending a lot of money to day. And although I have issues with Susan, I have a Super Secret Sexy Private Astrologer Who Works With A Lot Of Stars (har har har) And Is Really Cool and Right About A Lot Of Stuff. And he also advised me about today in such a way that I feel prepared and informed. Anyways: if you want a secret super great Astrologer connection, I can hook you up. Also: not shopping today. Nothing ambitious.


Yr Worst Enemy

Been sort of out of the loop these days. I guess I got really busy in October and put myself into tunnel vision mode, and then forgot to take myself out of it. SO: I'm back. I feel like I've been neglecting to update the blog during all this excitement, which kind of sucks. A lot of really great things happen because of this blog and I hope that people still read it? Find it useful? Anyway I'm back. For real, this time.

The big news is that I got a promotion at my job. Beginning December 1st, I will be working full-time. I was initially a little bit unsure of myself, cuz I felt like working part-time was a step in the direction of not having to have a day job. Here's the thing: I wasn't really making money these last three months. I mean, I effectively cut my income in half, which is OK I guess, but having my afternoons free is kind of a joke. I get a lot done, but more along the lines of: laundry, grocery shopping, exercise, etc. Not more "artistically" productive. And I've been really broke. I dunno. I am working every day as it is, and then finding stuff to do the last few hours. And the opportunity I've been given is pretty exciting, definitely something I think I can do, and something I think I can do without driving myself nuts, like at my last job. And also: I'll be making a little bit of money. More than at my last job. More than I've made since 2007. So I'm looking forward to a little bit less stress there. This is a decision I was wrestling with but am now really excited about beginning. Watch this space.

And so what else is going on is, you know, more of the usual. Insecurities and awkwardness lately. I feel like I catch myself suddenly caring a lot about what other people think about me. Like, people I don't know or who I'm not really friends with, opinions that should matter so much (/at all) to me are really tripping me up! I mean, not even their opinions, but my sense that they have negative opinions of me. Like, based on various bits of secret evidence. I dunno. It's not like people are telling me that I've done (or not done) something to upset them. We're not actually having any of these conversations. I find myself over-analyzing situations, like: "Why is this Dude mad at me? Is it because I didn't remember his name after meeting him for the first time because he randomly added me on Facebook? Is that mean of me?" And I am tearing my hair out because someone I don't know is always really frosty to me / maybe throws a little shade behind my back. Or, like, I'll be wondering if the reason other people in my life seem to resent me so much. I understand that this kind of resentment is a lot more about the resent-er than the resent-ee (me) but still, I want to understand it somehow. "Maybe the reason this other Dude is so negative about me, and says such nasty things about me to my friends, and goes out of his way to hurt my feelings / one-up me / start fights is because of something that happened to him in puberty. I bet he's in pain. OK. Let's identify the pain." And like, not to be a jerk? That's bullshit. I mean: not the thing about treating other people as a reflection of how we feel about ourselves-- that's still true. What's bullshit is that I think I can figure it out, or that figuring it out will help the other person, somehow make them stop being a dick(s) to me. But it's not my job to understand everybody's feeling, and it's impossible to try. I think it is also kind of a waste of time. SO: I am identifying this trend in myself and trying to notice it and work with it. We'll see.

I normally wouldn't even get this into it, but my AstroBarry horoscope begins with some advice which seems really spot-on in this regard:
You ought to know how often I defend you, Leo, from the unfair stereotypes you regularly reap from those who envy your warm vitality. I tell them you are more generous and heart-centered than they give you credit for… that it's their unresolved resentment about their own inhibitions which is where this projection stems from.
Like, this is it, man! Whatever. Same boring thing. I think the big lesson here is that instead of, you know, trying to rationalize and understand is a way of trying to control. Like, control the situation. And you know what? Some people are haters. And that is OK. And haters need love too. And I hope they get it. And I think that the most radical act you can do is try to love a hater. Your hater.

I read a lot of Pema Chodron, and she talks about this meditation practice called tonglen. Which is, in so many words, a way of practicing conscious empathy. And she talks in her books about focusing on people who really annoy or upset you. The last people you'd want to sit around thinking good thoughts for. They're the hardest people to imagine nice things about. But they're also the best opportunity for you to stretch your capacity for good-feeling. She quotes an old Buddhist scholar (not even gonna TRY to find the quote, sorry), who says something to the effect of how annoying people, people who bother us and drive us crazy, are such a blessing, for this reason. Which I really like. Like, what if your worst enemy was who you thought about living a long and healthy and happy life? Then that kind of changes what "worst enemy" means. I think it helps close this perceived distance between you and worst enemy. Which is rad (as in radical).

Thanks, Pema!

And then also, I got this 7" in the mailorder recently, the legendary Frumpies' ultra-scarce Chainsaw release, Alien Summer Nights.

So crucial, the Frumps. Also noteworthy is that they released a series of 7"s, on Kill Rock Stars, Lookout, Chainsaw and Wiiija. They're totally the unsung heroes of the Riot Grrrl aesthetic/mo(ve)ment. And their music is really gratifying to listen to, especially when I'm feeling bummed out or pissed off or frustrated and looking for ways to express it and see it expressed or whatever. So, thank you Tobi, Billy, Molly, Kathi and Michelle. Thanks, I mean, again.

Spent the weekend with Sister Pico, Lauren Wilkes, Chantal V.J. and PLD at our friend Dr. Perez' house in Connecticut, having an early holiday dinner.

PLD. Climbing in a tree. In a cemetery. In a photo by Teebs.

It was perfect and quiet and cold and peaceful. We ate and drank in abundance and laughed a lot. It was really fun to have indoor excitement. Definitely restful, and a god sort of cap to my mini-hibernation. Cause I'm back.

I'm going to pick back up working on the new issue of Scorcher, which is gonna be titled WHITECHOCOLATESPACEEGG. (Mine is gonna be in all caps). I've been taking my time with this one cause I have some bigger, broader ideas I want to talk about in it. I read the title story, which is a kind of "zine intro" written in the style of, say, Doris, at the event at PPOW Gallery where I read with Brontez. But the rest of the zine is still being stitched together. And I can't wait.

Things are going to get exciting.


Bettye LaVette at the 2008 Kennedy Center Honors:

from The New Yorker's profile of LaVette last week, on her performance:
Nothing in LaVette's performance had been unintended. "I didn't come here to try anything," she said. "I just thought, Whoever else is on that show, they have to die tonight. I have't had the opportunity to be adored already when I walk out onstage. Still, when I walk out, I walk out to make a point. If I have to rise to the occasion of killing you, I will."

Of The Arms I Missed

Favorites, favors, treats, presents, gifts, hors d'œuvres. Decorations. The weird giraffe-y art of the old Häagen-Dazs containers really take me back, man. I have such a strong sense-memory of this weird broken pattern. Specifically, eating coffee ice cream with my mom in Los Angeles, somewhat secretively. I don't know why it was a secret. A secret treat. Now I'm realizing that I just posted the other day about coffee yogurt, another obsession. And my maternal grandmother, Bubbe, always had coffee candy in her house. Which she never ate, but I ate compulsively whenever I visited her (even into high school and college). I don't remember what kind of coffee candies they were, which brand, but I'd know it if I saw it. Maybe there's some kind of matriarchal coffee flavor obsession in me. Could be worse, I guess.

Went to a really cool lecture at the New Museum on Sunday, as part of their "FREE" exhibition. The event was organized by the brilliant DIS Magazine and featured David Riley (of the band Mirror Mirror) giving a lecture about the history and significance of the Scrunchie.

It was so great! I learned a lot. I was pretty hungover on Sunday and David's articulate, calm, lucid voice was just perfect. Everybody in the audience got a free DIS denim scrunchie. Score! David's band Mirror Mirror is of course fantastic. They played once when I was go-go dancing at QxBxRx and it was so trippy. They also made a music video starring Rumi of the Cockettes, and they screened it at Rumi's recent NYC event at Envoy Enterprises. It was so great! I almost forgot to write on here (maybe I have before?) that I found out recently that David was a founding member of the NYC band NAVY in the late 90s/early 00s.

Like many people I'm sure, I first heard Navy on the Mr. Lady 2001 compilation Calling All Kings & Queens. I had never heard of them before, and I remember a considerable amount of internet chatter about them. WHO WERE these mysterious Navy people? At the time, I wasn't really interested or paying attention to anything about NYC. I had no plans to move there (yet). For all I knew, the only really interesting band to come out of NYC at the time was Le Tigre and they hardly counted as NYC. But something about the song really spoke to me! Their cutesy nautical theme was sort of prescient, at least for me: I spent the next many years obsessed with that aesthetic (the cover of my first cassette, as the Icebergs, featured hand-drawn anchors). And the song! And David's voice! I was definitely interested in queer punk music and such, but it was still kind of novel to hear the rainbow of gender expressions I imagined for myself and observed in my peer group (queer peer group) represented in indie music / underground culture. "Safe Harbors", the Navy song on the album, is very gay sounding. David clearly has a queer voice, and he was singing about desire. And from what I gathered, they had a really cool girl drummer. But I couldn't find anything out about them, really. I just made a note in my head that this kind of thing happened in Brooklyn. That there were sexy queer bands, existing underground, putting out amazing records. In NYC. It was one of the straws on the camel's back of me eventually coming here. And how lucky we are that fellow founding member Brina Thurston has put the entire Navy discography online. Anyway I recently put 2 + 2 together, realized who he was, and drunkenly told Mr. Riley how much Navy meant to me as a suburban teenager in California. He was very gracious about it.

Last night we went to a really cool art opening where there was new work by my good buddy Julia Norton.

Dream L.A., 2010

Her pictures are so pretty I hope I get one for x-mas / chanukah. Reminder: Julia has an illustration in the most recent issue of my zine, Scorcher. Natch.

On the way home I bought some party supplies. Total impulse buys but also, as the BF offered, "quality purchases". I think these will make the train ride up to Connecticut this weekend more enjoyable.

So sad that they killed Rush, and also Four Loko, right? Maybe not too sad. A little sad.
And now some videos. The first is a remix of Teengirl Fantasy's "Dancing In Slow Motion" (featuring Sharon Fuchness) by NEW NEEDS for DIS Magazine.

The second is a movie that resident boy-genius Perfect Little Daniel made for school, referencing Jarman's Caravaggio and starring, of course, the legendary Miss Jennifer Gross:

Ok. I am going to see the new Burroughs documentary tonight. And I am so fucking excited.


by Ian Svenonius

It's hard to say. Even now, his genealogy is being researched on the internet. What I do know is that Candy lives in a dream, far from the unfortunate aspects of the everyday. He scribbles in a journal like a boy half his age and plays backgammon prominently in public. He can eat copious amounts without the slightest effect on his physique. Ordinary men resent his shameless taste in clothes and shoes. Unusual men affect a similar style. He claims he's been in a number of duels, but he's certainly lying.

In the Candy persona there are also elements of Christopher Jones' Max Frost from 'Wild in the Streets' where a pop singer becomes President and of the Paul Jones character in 'Privilege' where the publicity campaign for a pop star turns him into a religious messiah (hence the inclusion of 'Listen to the Music' and Mike Leander's 'Bad Bad Boy' from those films and the trio of covers is completed by a reading of Komeda's lullaby from 'Rosemary's Baby')

I imagined 'Playpower' to be the record Toby Dammit would have recorded had he made it to Rome in Fellini's psychedelic masterpiece and whilst it is informed by many things the character of Candy is to some extent inspired by Terence Stamp's superbly intense performance.

Under the Work Projects Administration, Mr. Alan Lomax famously trolled around the south, taping farmers, miners and prisoners, in search of the "authentic voice of the American people". His employer was the government, His mission: propagandistic; the construction of a national identity out of the murky, tangled weirdness of the backwoods. The results, called "folk music", were documented on Folkways Records, and are unrivaled for their strangeness and oblique perspective. If Alan Lomax were trolling around the suburban parks of 21st century America, he'd surely stick a microphone under Candy's nose, and who knows? Maybe Folkways would finally have a hit record.

David Candy - Play Power


Here Again

Forgot that I wanted to link to this here. I was featured in NYC's favorite gay weekly, Next Magazine, recently. GETTING PERSONAL WITH MAX STEELE. Kind of reminds one of the title of Lindsay Lohan's second album, no? Though if you read this blog, nothing in there will be news to you, not really.

Sometimes I love eBay and the fact that people list things in weird categories and also sheer dumb luck that I can sometimes get really cool stuff for super cheap. Like this!

It's a vintage Comme des Garçons HOMME coat, from (I am guessing) sometime in the early 80s. It's very cute and light, with tiny shoulderpads and weird elastic outer pockets.

Also, it used to belong to Barbra Streisand.

The coat has that "old lady" smell. I like it.

I'm sure I've posted it here before, but check out this amazing video of Barbra singing with Judy Garland. They apparently did an homage on Glee but I don't watch that show, and the original is so much better. THE BEST PART OF THE VIDEO: that the background scenery is filled with painted arrows, which seem to point directly to Judy.

Best Part

Saving Daylights

Trying this new thing of getting up a little bit earlier. I figure since I get so sleepy I may as well skew my day so that I get some extra sunshine. On the order of, like, 15-20 minutes extra. Was so excited by it that I woke with a start at 6am, tossing my extra pillows around the room. I was having a dream that there was a group of beautiful and sinister black and yellow butterflies zipping around my room.

In dreams, butterflies symbolize creativity, change, transformation and romance. All of which are applicable to my life. I think. I dunno. They seemed sort of scary, evil. In the dream I was trying to herd them out my bedroom window but they just would not go.

Then, in the dream, I saw a green spider. And I realized that that's what I was scared of: the green spider. Why was it green? In the dream, my mom was suddenly there, and I asked her to kill the spider for me. She fearlessly walked right up to the spider and flicked it with her finger, whereupon it bounced from the ceiling to the floor to the wall and back again, like a rubber ball. Then I realized that as it was bouncing around, it was also weaving a web. That was how it regained its balance. It was a little scary.

Obviously: spiders equal moms in dreams. Some kind of dominant female force. And a spider weaving a web in dreams means something about seeing dreams come to fruition. Also the weird thing is that I personally am known as the Spider Killer. When my room mate sees a bug and is scared, I am the one who will come smash it. As a kid I was deathly allergic to spiders, having to go to the emergency room on a few occasions when a spider bite made me so swollen the skin on my fingers would burst open, or my eyes would swell shut for days at a time. The allergy has since gotten better, I guess. It was unclear if there was a relationship between the butterflies and the spider, and my mom didn't figure into the rest of the dream at all.

So thinking about all of these things, what my dreams may be, what transformations would need to be happening. Also I noticed a spider web in our bathroom last night, but it was too high up and I was too lazy to clean it. I sort of figured that it would be okay if there was a spider living in the bathroom b/c maybe then she would eat the fly in our house. There was a big mean fly in my bedroom last night. I chased it around.

SO EITHER my dreams are about my subconscious struggles for control and self-identification, OR: even in my dreams I am crudely aware of the fact that I need to clean my room. Go figure. Walking home form the gym last night, it was perfectly cold. Chilly, frosty but not painful. I felt really good. I've sort of resigned myself to the fact that for the next couple of months, there won't be as much sunlight. The world will instead be the sick orange municipal glow of streetlights. And my eyesight is so bad. It's kind of psychedelic. I've made my peace with this. Such a nice night. I came home and listened to lots of Cocteau Twins.


Went grocery shopping too, and got some of my favorite baby foods: coffee yogurt and pear juice. My mom tells me that she ate these while she was pregnant with me, had cravings for these foods.

I have loved them my whole life. Utterly random choices, but I felt a really strong craving for them at the store. Maybe I'm thinking about my parents a lot? I love my folks. I'm excited cuz I just bought my plane ticket home for xmas. If you're reading this and you're in the SF I'd like to see you. Especially if you are named Grey or Cotton or Jess or Zona. Right? Right. Feeling like I really need to nurture myself or something.

Ended up, after my weird dream-awakening, only getting up like tenty minutes earlier than I usually do. But that is more than enough time to make coffee. I treated myself to the fancy organic kind this weekend, because I was so tired of Key Foods coffee. I get this kind called "BLEND X - WITCHES BREW" which Ptrck told me about. You can barely see it but there're little moons and stars on the package.

Witch Coffee-- cute, right? it's really good. Extra dark blend, and good for mornings.

I dunno. I feel sort of blue, on and off, lately. It's really hard b/c sometimes it's like: oh you're in a bad mood so no wonder you can find things to obsess and fret over in the world. But then on the other hand it's also like: well, there are so many things to obsess and fret over in the world, of course I'm in a bad mood! This is the logical conclusion! The feeling is rational! Who knows. Maybe this is why people pay other people to listen to them talk about it. Maybe this is why people to see others believe in themselves. Whatever. I just need to constantly check my assumptions about the world. Venus is still retrograde. I feel really good today though. Breakfast of coffee on Coffee. Getting dressed for work. Relaxed and humming with the power of caffeine. Red Magick. Cologne, corduroy.

GAWD I miss Victoria Gentry's VAIN line of hair care products so much. Is this bourgi / tacky and gross of me? Ok. She still has the salon in Seattle. But in the late 90s, VAIN made their own line of hair care products, like Big Hair Hold, a really incredible hairspray, and a super intense eucalyptus and minty deep conditioner called Intervention. And they also made One of my favorite Things Ever: Dirty Boy Dirty Girl. It was a small tub of bright electric purple so-called "hair goo for the rumpled masses". It smelled kind of like coconut, and there was a toy pig in the bottom of every container. It was like a cross between hair gel and pomade, dirty but clean? It's hard to describe. Maybe I'm nostalgic for the 90s. Maybe I'm nostalgic for being a teenager. Maybe I'm nostalgic for living a life that includes that much hair maintenance. When I was in high school I could do, like, deep conditioning treatments. I didn't know that you didn't need to wash your hair every single day. Priorities change. Anyways they stopped making this stuff years ago. I wish I had some. Kind of.



Check out this amazing photo of Joseph Keckler aka Spooky aka Spookz aka ???

Photo by Gerry Visco.

I'm getting:
Last night Ptrck and PLD and my Boyfriend and Erin Markey and The Irish Horse all came over and we had and impromptu JAZZ NIGHT. We are planning a supersecret and exciting JAZZ BRUNCH (date and location TBA). But the night was basically an exercise in ascribing things that are JAZZ, would be on a JAZZ BRUNCH MENU. I can't even begin to describe all the ideas we had. It was a very productive conversation. We all hung out in the kitchen with white xmas lights and candles and we listened to all kinds of Jazz music and drank gin and orangina (two Jazzy) things. So I'm saying: I'm thinking a lot about what is JAZZ. Positive ascription.

Some things which are JAZZ or would be at JAZZ BRUNCH:
  • Velvet
  • Champagne Jello
  • Cats (wrapped in live snakes)
  • Smoke
  • Spotlights
  • Dates wrapped in bacon with an almond inside
  • Thunderstorms
  • A live Jazz trio of cats, not wrapped in snakes, but dressed instead as humans, with the cat drummer wearing sunglasses.
  • Fake blood pellets dripping from everyone's mouth
So anyway among these and other ideas: this picture of Joseph is totally Jazz. Happy Sunday. I'm going record shopping, for Jazz records.

Also, PS my favorite book in the whole entire world is by Toni Morrison and is titled Jazz.





DUH. I really hope everybody votes tomorrow. I don't know why I'm suddenly so obsessed with it, since I'm pretty much not that into nation-states that much. That's another conversation. I think it has something to do with Ari Up passing away but I feel like life is precious and I'm voting tomorrow and I think it's important.

The Lasik Eye Surgery of Lucy Jordan

Yesterday morning my amazing boyfriend and I woke up got muffins. We sat in the park and watched the dogs assemble for their Halloween parade. I had never seen it, but I had heard of it. I didn't actually see the parade, but at the dog park there was quite a scene, and I was witness to at least one altercation. Somehow the sight of dogs fighting, in costumes, made it seem more violent, scarier. We went to Lady Rimalower's house where we met up with Cole, Ptrck and Perfect Little Daniel. We had mimosas and frittata and listened to female jazz singers for almost all of the day. I came home and took a power nap. I meant to go to the Butt Mag party last night, but I just couldn't imagine braving the cold, again. I ordered Chinese food and told myself that I had to stay in to finish working on a new story for the upcoming issue of Birdsong. I did not get the story done last night. And I am going to get it done tonight (just a second I swear). Everything feels hard. It's getting darker. it's freezing out.

Today was really good, though. Work was fun and relaxed and I felt productive. I had a doctor's appointment later so I couldn't go to the gym right after work like I usually do, so I was kind of flabbergasted at what to do for a minute. At work, somebody brought in candy apples, and I was starving by the time I left, so I wandered Chelsea, trying to decide what to do, in the totally insane sideways winter sunlight, eating a candy apple. NEW YORK CITY could NOT contain it's jealousy, can I tell you? It was insane. I went to the BLACK Comme des Garçons store, to see if anything new had come in since the last time I went there, 45 minutes ago. (Nothing new had come in.) I overheard the woman working there (who is very gracious about the fact that I never even try anything on) talking to a pair nice German men about the store. She said that they were supposed to close but that they'd been extended because everybody loved it. So I don't feel like I need to get anything, since it's not limited, or something? Also: lower price point my ass. I wish I was rich, and had nice things. And that the apocalypse wasn't coming, and that we could all stay kids forever and nothing would ever change and I wouldn't have to be born and I'd just be an idea in my ancestors' minds like in the good old days before you got here the scene was so much better before. I guess? Whatever. Bourgie thoughts.

I came home and cooked lunch and did some reading and it was nice to be home on a sunny day. Went back to the city for the doctor's appointment. I'm setting up a regular medical doctor, since I got insurance again, and I have to go meet him etc. It was kind of a trip to go to Callen-Lorde when I'm not sick. Like, just be there and be healthy. I feel superhuman. Feeling empowered and certifiably healthy (I got a flu shot!), I went grocery shopping and got real live vegetables. Trying to adjust to the fact that it is now winter. This is happening. Wake up!: it's time to go to bed. I'm listening to Grace Jones' Nightclubbing over and over trying to remain inspired. It's hard! Basically doing that thing of like "What is the trip?" But the danger, I guess, is taking that game too seriously. The dangerous thing is taking anything too seriously. I think.

Right? Anyways Grace is over and I'm listening to Marianne Faithfull and if that doesn't make you want to talk then nothing does. Or ever will.

Back to work.