Nina Nastasia, Dogs

A Hawk and a Handsaw, Darkness at Noon

Cold War Kids, Robbers and Cowards

Pointer Sisters, Greatest Hits (Sometimes I get so excited, you know?)

Jose Gonzalez, Veneer

I’ll be returning to regular blogging soon…

MJ

My favorite comment: “Holy shit! She is definitely channelling Aphrodite…”

So at last I’ve found a place to show the film.  It will premiere on July 27 at 9pm at the Someday Lounge before the Gender Fluids perform. $5 cover.

Here info about the show after:

p. boy productions presents Snakes, Snails and Everything Nice, an evening of randy performance with Splendora and the Gender Fluids, Felina’s Arrow, Adam Hurst, and Garret Potter.
July 27. 2007
Friday 9:30 p.m.
5 dollars
21+

Someday Lounge
125 NW 5th Avenue

Anyway, come see the movie!! Let me know that you’re coming, tell your friends, spread the word!

You Fit Into Me

You fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye

Margaret Atwood

Somewhere A Seed

Somewhere a seed falls to the ground
That will become a tree
That will some day be felled
From which thin shafts will be extracted
To be made into arrows
To be fitted with warheads
One of which, some day when you least expect it,
While a winter sun is shining
On a river of ice
And you feel farthest from self-pity,
Will pierce your shit-filled heart.

Michael Fried

May we all find ways to express our rage over shitty people.

My body stiffens. Energy zips through my spine. I look up at him with terror in my eyes and he pulls away from me for a moment and I say, “I’m not. But I guess you are.”

Before I continue, let’s just say that I’m still negative. I’ve been tested since then, I didn’t get it. Now that I’ve alleviated any concern for a surprise revelation, let’s move on.

Blondie screams at me, “You fucking negative queens. Think it’s never gonna happen to you. Never think about it.”
“You never told me,” I say.

“You didn’t ask,” he snaps back.

Now who’s responsibility is it? We sat there, vascillating between anger, sadness, fear, love, trying to find some stable ground. I couldn’t believe that I’d found myself here. Again.

Yes. Again.

I had a boyfriend in New York who I dated for the few months before I went to New Mexico for the first time. It was lovely really. We just ate, drank, smoked and had sex. And talked a lot about esoterica. It was not an exceptionally emotional relationship, but I liked it and I liked him.

When I returned from the month in New Mexico, I immediately called him and went over to his place. On the walk over there, I had this weird sensation that he was sick. I had this flash of an image like Eric Stoltz in Mask, his face all disfigured and in pain. But when he opened the door, there he was, sexy, beautiful, smiling. We hung out all day, talking, drinking, slipping in and out of bed and then he said, “I have something to tell you” and I swear right behind him this ethereal figure popped up and smiled at me.

“I’m positive.”

He was the first person that close to me that I knew was positive. He had been hiding his medicine. That smoky figure behind him just smiled at me. I remember leaving his house, and crying on a park bench. I remember talking to Seth about what I should do. “You can’t stay with him,” he said. I remember getting tested then and then again a few months later, each time, scared, shaking, thinking of that smoky figure, smiling.

I was negative. But here I was, shaking and crying all over again. This was happening. It’s amazing how in those moments where everything hangs by a thin thread of possibility, your whole life comes into the sharpest focus, emotions become acute, colors more vibrant. There is a sense of joy, of sheer aliveness, of roller-coaster, death-defying, fuck-you-smoky-figure splendor that comes on like a drug. All that endorphin, adrenaline, dopamine lovin’ fills up your insides and it could go any way your feeling moves. All that energy could make for a really shitty day, or the most exhilirating, life-altering experience.

We came to a place of understanding, Blondie and I.  We brokered a deal, we both accepted 50 per cent responsibility: I should have asked, he should have told.  Then we fell asleep, exhausted.

The next day, Blondie and I went to the wedding. It was in a beautiful garden in a bed and breakfast. The weather was sublime, warm, dry, sunny. The service was curious, a Jewish lesbian religious moment. There was music and singing and clapping and everyone was happy and in awe of what was happening. It was pretty likely that no one had been to one of these before. Blondie and I, both dressed in white, sat holding hands and making comments. I was so filled with love and emotion for him, still high on the immense truth of the previous night. We had managed to work through a potentially devestating experience and find some love on the other side. That weekend we wandered through another’s wedding, staring and kissing and touching, oblivious to what was to come, without pain, without shame, full, alive, breathing every second, thankful for still being alive.