I'm actually sort of glad that summer is over (at least officially). I have some very exciting things coming up this month. Which is great! But I'm definitely bummed to be back at work today. I fucking hate Tuesdays. Even if it's sort of a Monday/Tuesday hybrid. On one hand, I really resent my life, the fact that I have to work for a living and don't get to spend all my time writing or being creative or whatever. But on the other hand, I'm really grateful to have a life at all, to get to work with and interact with the people I've gotten to deal with over the years. I guess I'm just tired. I slept a lot this weekend though. Very slowly starting to clean out my room. I can't find a place to get rid of books, so I'm becoming that friend who, every time you meet up with them, gives you a book or a scarf or a tchotchke that "reminds me of you" so that I don't have to throw it out. Maybe the upside (apart from very slowly cleaning out my room) is that people will think I'm nice and generous for giving out presents all the time. I'm working on it.

Here, finally, is a video of B0DYH1GH performing our cover of "Pass the Mission" at the Tori tribute show at Joe's Pub a few weeks ago:

I'm very proud of us. I think we really nailed it. I think we brought some really creative energy to the evening and I think we were a highlight. It's funny how if I had done something by myself, I would probably be too mortified to enjoy it, but something about not being the lead singer in B0DYH1GH or just having a wig to hide behind and a group to perform as makes it easier for me to enjoy the propect of playing music.

As part of cleaning up this weekend I dug up copies of my old recordings from 2006, the "Rambunctious" EP:


So there's that, if you're interested in hearing some demos. I used to try to get everybody to listen to those recordings. It was my thing, for a minute.

I saw Blue Jasmine yesterday with Paps. I liked it a lot, but it did sort of upset me, that thing of having a nervous breakdown and talking to yourself. Being chronically unhappy, pathologically unlikeable. I had the gnawing pit in my stomach that I was just like that character. Probably that's the point, right? To laugh at her and also feel mortified for sympathizing with her. I'm in a really bad mood today, I guess. I feel like I'm always in a bad mood, like I've wasted the better part of me 20s feeling shitty and being mad at myself for not having what I imagine everyone else has. It must be nice to be cute. It must be nice to be talented, successful, rich. I guess people could say the same things of me, but it feels way different on the inside. It feels like I'm just sort of here to waste oxygen. Like I'm here to not be the cute one. Nobody's favorite, at least, but an important part of the ecosystem. I've been struggling over the last few years to make my peace with this awful fact, and to articulate the tone of this realization. I'm not fishing for compliments so much as trying to drown myself, or some part of myself. It's frustrating; part of me wants to pick fights and part of me wants to have sex with your boyfriend, with your room mate, with your exboyfriend, with your brother. Part of me wants to do like those wispy girls I was friends with on the internet, right? The ones, not us personally but our larger circle, the ones who would hurt themselves and then take photos of it to compare. It's gross. It's literally morbid, but that impulse to be, like, "Okay, here I am." As if someone is yelling "Marco...! Marco...!" in the shallow end of a swimming pool. Only that's not happening, I'm just down here, in the slightly darker chlorine blue of the deep end (only ever 8 feet, 10 feet, 12 feet max, right? Nothing so dangerous) whispering bubbles into the water "Polo, polo, polo."

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