Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Storms


: get back into doing push-ups in the morning… maybe; KM busts out the ice cream cake from Sunday’s symposium, chocolate on vanilla cake and it’s delicious; it’s a hot day outside; find a square plank of wood I consider to use for the yaoi project; wander into the The Container Store, meander through the closet and office sections; pestering thoughts of Subway; eat in front of computer watching Nurse Jackie; leave the house to buy a bottle of wine and wait for Modern Family; I enjoy singing and contemplate a fundraising plan involving Thirsty Alley.

Tuesday, May 03, 2011

The Ramp


: take the student workers to The Ramp for lunch, margaritas by the barges docked in the bay, SC and MB, CB and I; get home in time for Glee, the Rumours episode, TH brings home Volcano curry, I’m drinking wine, I call the iPad 2 commercial arrogant, get choked up over the Google Chrome “It Gets Better” commercial; I miss DW right now.

Monday, May 02, 2011

Shrine



: like a never slept at all; leftover cupcakes from the Visual Criticism Symposium; exhaustion crept in and leaves me reeling, fracturing my grammar; wait too long for the 38, doze in and out of sleep; at home, watch Glee and Fringe; CP finds me asleep on the couch; later TH, CP and I play Rock Band while she waits for A. to arrive so they can watch Game of Thrones; slowly put myself to bed, reading The Letters of Mina Harker, I use the Easter card I got from Nana and Grandpa as my bookmark.

Sunday, May 01, 2011

Shoes



: finally a decent night’s rest; linger in bed reading The Letters of Mina Harker by Dodie Bellamy; leave the house in my sky blue Oakland t-shirt to get coffee and laundry detergent; Crooked Fingers: “Sleep All Summer”; today will be domestic duties; separate the darks from the brights and lug the sausage-like bag along Geary like a sailor on leave; during the wash cycle get a Bloody Mary at The Blarney Stone, watch the Giants vs. Nationals game; as I fold DW texts about going to Dolores Park; I should/I shouldn’t… I do; stop to pick up sammies and Crystal Geyser; the park is swarmed with people, bodies, and dogs; DW and I lay on a towel making fun of people as they pass by and ourselves; Overheard: “I’m always mean to the people I like. I’m just weird that way.”; do these muscle queens have jobs? Are they all escorts?; “In the event of Western Civilization meltdown, I’m coming here. This is the best view in the whole city.”; R “Miss Thing” D shows up with wine, chips & salsa; “You know, when a major natural disaster strike this town you know evacuees will be more like this than the Astro-Dome,” I say. “I got my wine, cheese and SPF, I’m all set!” DW says; we crack jokes and sing songs, Lady Ha-ha, Lady Baa-Baa, Lady Tra La La, Lady Fa La La La La La La La La, “Unbreak My Heart”; we meet our neighbors, one of whom is a Sister; the bathroom line is ages, “Go by the tracks,” DW urges. “Everyone does.” I’m skeptical and nervous of a passing train but as soon as the deep smell of urine hits me and I notice the whole stairs and decaying platform is a urinal, I go; At Marlena’s drag queens lip-sync for their life and good looking boys offer come ons; the barback slaps my hand as I reach for a lemon twist; sun goes down, DW and I walk to Deco for his strip contest; a (maybe) street man in the bar offers to buy DW and I a drink, I refuse, “I don’t lie,” he proclaims. “My mother was a pin-up and a Ziegfeld girl. My father was in the military, saw her pin-up, and searched her out!”; leave before the show, hiking up Larkin; Liz Phair on the bus, decide against getting dinner; at home make toast and peanut butter, chat with TH, watch the short they made, finish folding laundry, take a shower, go to sleep.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Carmelita Street

Book Review: Natsuo Kirino: Grotesque

GrotesqueGrotesque by Natsuo Kirino

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


A novel whose characters are deceptive, delusional, jealous and confused gives the reader an abundance of voyeuristic material to weed through. Tackling beauty, sexuality, and merit among families and friends within Japanese society. Also, the main character and her sister are mixed race, (half-Swiss, half-Japanese) this may be the first Japanese novel I read that tackles "haffu" as a theme and includes Western characters with significant roles.

The book is a manifestation of the narrator, her monologue about her "monstrously" beautiful sister and those she's affected. Included are the sister's journals, a classmate's journals, and the confession of her murderer. All these accounts align with each other, hearing dual sides of the story, where each person's perception immediately falls into question. Sex and prostitution act as weapons against the authority of men but not without its consequences.



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Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Red Pen Bear



: restless dreams; getting off to a late start; C. and I chat in the living room, hadn’t seen her in a while; “Your hair looks really good today. Maybe it’s the sunlight streaming in.”; was going to walk but took the bus; reading Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys; at Peet’s a medium coffee went up 5 cents to 2 dollars. “Did the price just go up?” I ask. “Yup,” the guy answers, clearly deflecting an obvious and well asked question; A pendulous day; the coffee maker works! C. got it going, somehow, “Maybe your crazy,” she suggests. “Maybe you’re right,” I say; we talk at the kitchen table about freedom, patriotism related to gay marriage, “Think of the waste of energy these people generate in their resistance to gay marriage and they call themselves patriots.”; T. comes home followed by A.; watch Rupaul’s Drag Race while they get dinner, eat toast with peanut butter and raisins, wine; later, we play Rock Band, sing “Space Oddity” and “Sister Christian”.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Vessel Log: 2011 04-25

: Shannon McArdle: Summer of the Whore while riding the bus; craving a gourmet cheeseburger and garlic fries; go for Bi Bim Bab at Wolfe’s; are we winding down, or winding up?; Jennifer Egan interview about her early writer’s life; on the way home, sleep a few minutes on the 38, contemplate dinner; stop at Walgreen’s, new hair product, shaving cream, wine, peanut butter, raisins; am I talking to myself?; so many ingredients for a tuna sandwich; Jeopardy and then a few episodes of Rupaul’s Drag Race and a few United States of Tara; USoT really weaves me around, feel more engaged with the world; a man crosses Geary with a large backpack; I worry about setting fires; not so tired tonight before bed; continue reading Grotesque.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Easter Sunday: Hunky Jesus


: Happy Easter; A.’s getting ready for her trip to Alcatraz; we walk in misty rain to Joe’s Café for breakfast before seeing her off on the 1; a taxi cab picks up some Asian seniors, an older lady has trouble getting into the passenger side, “It’s too high!” she says. “I don’t think that door is shut all the way,” A. says. “She better not fall out,” I say; stop for an orange juice and then a coffee; back home T. is on his computer before meeting some friends for brunch; the sun breaks out; rolling A.’s red luggage to the 38 bus stop, buy a bottle of Gnarly Head, Pinot Grigio and a wine opener; need to yell, “Back door, please!” while lumbering with the luggage; the 33 in the Haight picks up stoned kids wearing Cannabis and silver garland crowns, a Liverpool accent, eating Puff chips, “Remember when we were on this bus singing ’99 Bottles of Beer’ and ‘The Wheels on the Bus’! That was so fun!” and “I drank a bottle of acid at home and got on this bus. At every turn I’d raise my hands and go, ‘Yeah!’ I didn’t know where we were. I was all, ‘Where are we GOING?!’ like we were being kidnapped,” a guy says. They are also going to Dolores Park for the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence Easter Celebration; D. finds me, a sea of color, shirtlessness, make-up, Easter hats; C. is there, we drink wine and watch boys dance like the Andrew Sisters, musical numbers, and costumes; a man in a rabbit fur coat with his scrotum pierced; A. finds her way to our little nest of bread, cheese and wine; Hunky Jesus contest, Yoga Jesus, THE Hunky Jesus disrobes to a cheering crowd, and Jesus F@cking Christ who takes it all; we linger before moving to Café Flore; A. and I take an F train downtown to bring her to CalTrain; On 4th we run into R. and a friend of his from high school, wearing rabbit ears; at the train station I watch A. check her ticket and walk to the train, she turns around for a final goodbye and I wave too. As she gets in, I tear up myself; walk to the Hole in the Wall for a beer, a guy approaches, hesitates and walks away, “You have superpowers,” another guy says to me. “You can make people drunk at the snap of a finger.”; meet D. at the Edge, feels like ages to get there; a drunk guy we want to escape from; take the 33 to the 38 and stop at Subway before going home; T. plays Rock Band, the synthesizer, “Space Oddity”; after a shower, I pour myself into bed, thankful for the second pillow.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Tickets

Open Studios

: gather a sack of laundry, the whites and brights, haul on my shoulder into a chilly morning; the coffee shop with a bagel and vegetables, reading Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino on the couch, a toddler smiles and waves at me before getting on the other couch; singing to Annie Lennox: Diva; getting dressed for Open Studios, missed a bus so stop into The Blarney Stone for a beer; stop at Starbuck’s on 2nd Street, wait for D.; people roaming the halls, in and out of studios; meet C.’s parents; helping hand out Tecate’s; the arrival of the taco truck and the winding line; a burrowing cough in my lungs; take the bus downtown with D. he goes to the gym then to Deco, I to the 38; then Gaspare’s to order dinner, take it home; T. plays Rock Band drums, C. and W. work on their laptops; wine with United States of Tara and some of Nurse Jackie; crawl into bed, eager for the black.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Rainbow

This rainbow preceded a burst of cold, a hail storm, a rainstorm and a woman babbling/cackling/yelling/speaking for 20 minutes straight.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Jonathan Franzen: Freedom

FreedomFreedom by Jonathan Franzen

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Airing America's dirty laundry... perhaps a little too soon... anxiety, tug-of-war, watching a car crash slowly... if anyone is around to look back on the turn of the millennium and the decade that followed then this novel will be source material... the message kept simmering... dragging... we know what to do and yet we tug while gravity pulls us into the fall... but there are people out there unwilling to bend, unwilling to stop, and they are heroes... staying true to yourself is never the easy road, but what else is there to live for?



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