I've been reading this Karen Finley book, The Reality Shows, and it's totally blowing my mind, you guys.
It makes me really wish that I could have seen these shows when they were performed. I'm totally kicking myself. But the texts are so amazing too. Just like the way she talks, in the text. The way she addresses the audience/reader is really interesting and inspiring to me. It implies a certain amount of trust, or something, between the performer and the audience. And that kind of faith, just from a “performance tactics/ways of being in the world” standpoint is really inspiring. I’m just talking about the texture of the forms she works with. I’m not even addressing the actual content here. Is that possible? Anyway I definitely recommend picking it up. It will make you want to feel more and feel more deeply. Consciously? I don’t know. It’s really amazing to me, and I read it every day and I hope it doesn’t end, but I know (someday) it will.
I kind of always read a couple books at once, and I’ve been very slowly working my way through Mary Daly’s brilliant Beyond God the Father.
Which is fulfilling in a totally different kind of way. It’s like she’s speaking through a megaphone, from way back in time. I don’t mean ‘back in time’ because of the historical context her work is from, but I mean it as in she addresses huge swaths of human history and it’s pretty mind-blowing. So when I’m not reading the New Yorker I am reading these two books. That is what is up.
Rock on, Mary.
I've been sort of MIA this week because my parents have been in town. They are leaving today and we said goodbye last night. I miss them so much sometimes. We had a really fantastic week together, hanging out every day after work. I sort of halfway become a sullen teenager when I am around them. Like 50%. But the other 50% is becoming the uber-parent; shepherding them around NYC. It was so nice. We went to my favorite restaurant, Kate’s Joint, and went to go see Arcadia which was my first Broadway experience. The play was really good but definitely not something I would have chosen on my own, so I am deeply grateful for the novel experience. I also got my parents to impulse buy me this, which I had never had before:
Anyone who knows me will know that I like to eat gross foods. So I obviously love Marmite. I am kind of into making sandwiches with peanut butter and Marmite. Is that gross? I think that this sandwich (I am going to name it a GARFIELD) is maybe my current favorite food.
If you come over to my house, I will serve you a Garfield sandwich and a can of TaB cola. That oughta kill my social life, I guess.
So my folks have been in town, and not a moment too soon. I’ve been really bummed out lately. Definitely very depressed and awful feeling. But I think I am better now. I think it coincided with running into the amazing Jack Ferver last Thursday night on the train. Daniel and I were waiting for a downtown train from Columbus Circle, and Jack waltzed onto the platform with a really beautiful bright blue hoodie. And he was so nice and funny, and I had just seen his production of SWAN!!! the week before and it really broke through my fog of nastiness.
I guess what I want to say is thanks, to those of you who deserve thanks, for being nice to me and being my friends lately. It has helped a lot. I don’t know what’s up these days, guys. I think it’s really scary sometimes. To be scared, or sad, and then be scared or sad about how sad or scared you feel. When you write it out like that it seems ridiculous, but it’s true—that’s how it feels. Feelings are not facts. Find a new way to say it or to feel it and then it changes. So I guess always a new way. There are always new ways.
The things that were bumming me out are still bumming me out. I thought because I was the one to end my fantastic relationship that, because it was my decision, that I would not be sad about it. I was really wrong about this. I still think it’s for the best, but I guess it took me a couple weeks to admit how sad I was about it. But it’s okay. And it will only be more okay with time.
In other news: I went back to NYU dental school. For the final, one-year-later checkup of my implant. It’s healing! Even though it was put in at a weird angle, the bone has grown around the implant and it is good! I am so relieved to hear this. This has been such a nightmare. And hopefully it will all be okay. The only downside is that my lovely dental student (the nice one, not the one who fucked me up in the first place) helpfully identified two fillings I have which need to be replaced. One, she said, needs to be fixed because it might mean I need a root canal (yay!) and the other filling, which I guess I got some time during my adolescence, has partially fallen out. I had no idea. This is nuts. But the big news is: I am ok. I made an appointment with my “real” dentist, who is not a student, and who is amazing. So these will be fixed. Everything is going to be okay, eventually.
Kind of ready to put this chapter behind me. I talked about it some, but have been mostly in denial about it because it was so humiliating and painful that I have been trying to edit it out of the story of my life: the time an NYU dental school student destroyed my mouth. This chapter is coming to a close, but there was definitely a time, the summer before last, when I was at NYU every single day, sometimes two or three times a day, having screaming matches with dentists, students, professors, social workers, lawyers, whoever. No on could give me a straight answer as to what I needed to do to fix my mouth, and I was constantly going to outside dentists to fix the various things that the initial visit set off. And I was all by myself with this, and nobody was there to help me. And I was really scared. And I was also (not to be a baby) missing a motherfucking tooth, and in pretty serious pain every day for a couple of months.
And I am glad to emerge on the other side of that. And to see you there.