Just made it back from the premier of Pornography, a film that should have an LiveJournal credit line, given all the talent from our little digital backwater both in front of and behind the camera. The screening was packed, so much so that an extra screening has been added. So congrats David and Sean: it’s a thoughtful twisty thriller. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for the Q&A.
Around the house, much work was done, by me. The work desk is in better shape than it has been in months.
Pals for Sunday poker and cigars. Kerry, Boymeat, Scotty, Scot, Thor ad Lolita. We played the usual silly dealer’s choice games. Everyone brought very responsible snacks, including the unpictured , who brought cupcakes that were delightfully tidy as well as tasty.
Eventually I will forgive Boymeat for winning so much money all the time, especially since I managed to come out a few buck ahead myself. Lehigh is glad of the company and attention for a while until the smoke gets to be too much and she retreats to the other end of the house. She gets treats from the visitors, but even so I can tell that there are times when people get to be to much for her. Not unlike myself actually. But afterwards, once everyone has left, she is eager for cuddles and kisses from me. A little bit or reassurance.
We are in the full force of summer. People walking along the block, taking it easy. The windows are wide open, to aid in clearing out the smoke. The air that flows in through them is luscious.
In anticipation of poker this weekend, I went out and picked up some cigars. I have to say that I haven’t been smoking as much lately. It’s just something that I’ve been forgetting to do. The fact that I can type that sentence probably means I’m not an addict.
Last night I got some stellar help from the Sainted Blog Mommy and moved one step closer to recovering from last years big crash. Today I’m picking up some risque undergarments for a certain someone. Yeah, it’s a good life.
So Mike has been in town and yesterday he, I, his friend Karen, and Lolita took ourselves off to five hours of liquid satisfaction at Spa Castle. Bliss is a well placed jet of water. If you’re a New York resident or planning a visit, make your host take you there: it’s like a civilized water park with immaculate saunas and a decent food court thrown in. You can get baked eggs. One note though: bring a change of clothes, because you end up so clean that putting your old duds on at the end of it can be a bit of a let down.
We also had two fantastic meals: before we submerged ourselves we had a very civilized brunch with Thor at good. And on the way home we joined Jason and Sue at SriPraPhai (sorry Dan, I know we should have called you), which has expanded and remodeled and yet was still as delicious as ever. Then J was so very kind as to offer Mike and I a ride back to my place, where a not too disgruntled Lehigh awaited her evening walk. There was a little canoodling, and then the Sandman showed up for a three-way.
You could say I was satisfied.
Especially hot ones!
So yesterday Thor came over to help me contend with the forces of It-which-must-not-be-named (the laundry), which caused us to have many trips into the sunshine of my neighborhood. He was a valiant Wash Warrior. And then, at the very moment that we were bringing in the last folded loads, we heard the tinkle of the ice cream truck a block away. I’m not lying when I say that I saw six-year old Thor pop out when I assured him that yes the truck was coming and yes we could have ice cream. So determined was he that I walked the clothes upstairs while he waited in the street below, looking down the block to make sure the truck didn’t swerve around the corner at the last minute. When I came back downstairs Mister Softee was just pulling up and Thor bought me a cola float and himself the weird Spongebob treat he’s holding here. We sat out on the stoop and chatted with my neighbors for a bit while cooling down. Afterward, Thor reminded me of his touching entry where he wrote about how important the ice cream truck was for him growing up. Reading it again made me understand his determination, and reminded me of how lucky I am to know him.
But someplace up in the great white north this fantastic pair of people have just now tied the broom, or jumped the knot, or rumpled the chuppa or whatever. I couldn’t make it there to wish them my best in person, but if I had been there I would have raised a glass and said: “”bearsir, ishai_wallace, I wish you many many years of making merry mayhem together.”
Love you guys.
Last night was the end of the year dinner for my students, out little in-house graduation before the official event at Bard on Saturday. A generous trustee hosts it at their house every year. The students got dolled up and we presented them with a certificate that I designed. It’s a lovely event and this year seemed especially emotional. I’m very grateful to have been able to spend the last couple of years with these people. I got a little teary during my short speech to them. Maybe it was the excellent red wine.
And now is the chance to get some of the built up pressures of the past couple of months dealt with. Through some talks with good friends I feel like I’ve developed a clearer picture of how I want the next year to go. The warm weather is helping with that as well; somehow walking out the door in just my shirtsleeves always fills me with a sense of possibilities.
Oh and the boot? A friend told me her husband has been following the blog, and so when she showed off the footwear, I told her I’d put it up here for his delectation.
Pulled myself out of the house yesterday evening, to meet with Fred, and a couple of other folks for dinner. I suggested Gobo, which did not dissapoint. In fact, as I was heading home I reflected on how much better my body was feeling after a day full of headaches, allergies, bloaty-ness and lassitude. I guessing that in part it was because there were very few carbs in the meal. The standout dish was a nori wrapped tofu in a thai red curry. It had bite and an undercurrent of smokiness. As for the company, it was one of those evenings where as we talked more, we ran across yet another person that we knew in common. It was one of those cases where we were much in each others lives, even though we saw each other rarely. Perhaps the fact that I didn’t have any real responsibilities in the evening helped to lighten my mood.
Today I’m teaching at the center, and then getting together with some more friends. It’s funny how elastic time is: when I start doing little tasks, I have plenty of it: when I worry about tasks it flies by and I feel like there’s not time to do anything.
Around here, they give you a lot of fruit salad for three bucks. And you get to pick what’s in it.
Had breakfast with a friend this morning, someone who I’ve been getting to gradually know over the past couple of years. Like yesterday, when my mom stopped by, there were certain points in the conversation where I was awash in emotion. I have to ask, what am I protecting myself from? I’m engaged in a series of deflecting behaviors, all of which seem to involve some kind of insulating. I’ve been at this place emotionally before. Somehow these conversations have helped me to see that I’ve come there again.
Spent the afternoon in a chatty bit of roof deck socializing with Thor, Ernie and Greg at the home of recent transplant Kaz. There were cigars, and burgers, and wine, and fresh fruit salad. The talk swirled around various ideas in aesthetics, why people liked the types of kinks they did, and worst scenes ever. The highpoint for me came when Kaz spoke about his decision to transition from Microsoft project manager to photography student: his reasons gave me a real insight into my own problems and shortcomings as a manager.
The weather was clear, but chillier than we all expected. Saturday lulled us into a false sense that spring had arrived.
Matt, AKA badfaggot came by today. We lolled and talked about what’s been going on with us. I’m happy to see such positive change in his life.
Just a litle while ago I arrived, tardy and out of breath, for my long delayed meeting with Ryan, A.K.A. bobo_dreams, one of my favorite LJ people. It seems crazy that it’s taken this long for us to meet face to face, but as we talked through the last couple of years, it seems like the delay was right. I’ll say this, all the charm and complexity, all the thought that you see in Ryan’s photography and drawing, is right there when you talk to him.
We brunched, as the queer often do, and the location was one of my favorites: Elephant and Castle. The talk ranged over past history, comics, the redemptive power of romance, and what’s wrong with Texas. He explained to me who the heck Emma Frost is. We both vowed that this is not the last conversation. Now we’re in a race to see who posts about it first.
Check out his blog as well as his work over on Act.ive.ate.
I’m feeling down these past couple of days: cut off, out of it. And physically a bit wrong. The causes are multiple, but a big one is the fact that Monday was the anniversary of Phil’s death. Along with a couple of other dates in the year, it’s become a spot where I have to watch for my emotions to go into a nose dive. I’ve also been on a extended period of eating poorly and not moving as much as I’d like. Finding out what my tax debt for the past year is was not much of a help either.
Paradoxically, my solution in part to the eating issue is to cancel my weekly deliveries from Urban Organics. This is the second time I’ve used their service and both times I went itno it with the idea that I would cook at home more, and eat healthier. But the result has been the opposite: a box of vegetables arrives, and while there is stuff in there that I like, there’s stuff that I don’t like as well, If I don’t eat it right away it starts to spoil, and then I feel guilty about buying stuff from the market. Which means that I eat out more and still have the sneaking suspicion that I could purchase the same amount of food myself for less. So no more deliveries, and I go back to shopping more regularly.
The other kooky thing I’m doing to cheer myself up Is to remind myself of the groovy people I have been lucky enough to make contact with this past year, including the fellow mischief-maker above. It’s now been three times that I’ve had fun with him, and we have the fourth on the schedule. So creepy as I may feel, there are folks out there willing to knock some sense into me. And I’m grateful for that.
A day of reviving old projects and looking at some art. Spent this evening with Sarah Schulman at the reading of Caryl Churchill’s latest play, a compressed provocation on the topic of Israel. The format: ten minutes of play, one hour of moderated discussion, ten minutes of the play reread. From the audience, Mandy Patankin told us how he would “attack” the material. The moderator stuck his oar in a bit too much much I thought. Sarah was unimpressed. After wards, over sushi we traded stories of our religious experience and (lack of) belief. The unagi was excellent. Sarah told me the place is cult run.
…for the present and for the delightful dinner company, and splitting the indian pudding with me. What a nice way to wind down from three days of interviews, and six days straight of work.
I’m so glad to have a day off tomorrow before the next work week.
It’s funny the resistance I have to writing my posts beforehand. Even though the interface isn’t all that friendly, and I don’t have a client loaded on this laptop, I’d rather write on the lj post page than use my word processor. Well this is a little attempt to overcome that resistance.
Yesterday was another sunny day out here. I got into see my friend Kim Anno’s panel on shifting abstraction in the morning. After it ended, I ran into Prof Ray K. who is, I gotta say – so very cute ( sorry about the objectification, Ray) and who made the astute remark that on the whole, the attendees of CAA are not the most prepossessing bunch. It’s sadly true, I’ve seen many more downtown bums on this trip who have turned my head than conference goers. That being said, it has been wonderful to connect with so many pals at CAA. It feels like a part of my life that has fallen by the wayside a bit.
In the afternoon I ditched to meet up with the Dave White, who braved the pain of his surgical recovery to take me first to a great Mexican place in Silverlake for lunch and then a couple of doors down to a little thrift store that reminded me of how terribly picked over all the places in New York are. I managed to get out the door with only a couple of purchases, luckily. And then I gave him a mission: trusting to his impeccable taste I told him to take me to Amoeba and “metal me up” unfortunately, I didn’t get to meet Extreem Aaron, nor Alonzo who had work related stress disorder, but I did get to have the great experience of sitting in the store while Dave said, yeah you should have this , yeah this too. I was ready to splurge on a Plasmatics T-shirt but the cashier couldn’t figure out how to get one and it was getting late. Now when I get home I get to experience the blissful brutality as I ponder the futility of all things not metal.
There’s another weird thing: I’m traveling around without any sort of disc playback device. CDs have become just the thing I carry the music home on, before I rip them to my hard drive: a software delivery system.
For no good reason I’m thinking about people who settle scores. Well, not for no reason. I’m thinking about a non-lj friend, who, having endured a break-up years ago, is still seeking an explanation from his ex. This is a person whose work touches on themes of social justice and activism, and when I talk to him, the parting still looms large. We tend to think about this as wanting closure, but what he really wants is a just outcome. He wants both he and his ex to come to an understanding about their break-up that would be reasonable not only to them but to outside parties. When he wistfully asks me about what his ex is doing, or talks about wanting to hear from them, it never has anything to do with a nostalgia for the times when they were together. I don’t hear the longing for love, I just hear them saying “unfair, unfair, unfair…” Walking Lehigh tonight I thought that it isn’t possible to achieve justice on that level, between individuals. Perhaps we could if we returned to dueling. We could demand satisfaction and declare when we had received it.
And my friend’s approach to previous relationships makes wonder what they are expecting when they talk to me about finding someone new. Score settlers are are usually score keepers, and I can’t see how that bodes well for sustained romance.
Last night my pal Chris Cochrane celebrated turning 50 by rocking out to a select audience of his friends. It was inspiring and the only time I’ve ever cried to “Now I Wanna Be Your Dog” There was spicy peanut dip and an extravagant cake. There was surprise singing of Andrew Lloyd Weber (not by Chris). He had some cute glasses on at one point.
He’s been following this journal, so now he gets to see me say in public how much I love him. 30 f’in years we’ve known each other!