Of Human Bondage

What a difference a day makes. Working Fulsome Street exposed me to the kind of joyous, accepting energy I needed to remind myself that I am allowed to feel comfortable in my body and feel good about myself.  It was so much fun.

It occurs to me the moment where my attitude shifted. The skies opened and it was pouring. I took off my tank top which was soaked and just enjoyed getting wet and feeling alive.

I attended the afterparty at the NY Bondage Club... a really really fun time.

Met some cuties! One in particular. I wonder if I would ever allow myself to be tied up.

Leather

I'm going to be working at the Fulsome Street Fair in NYC for my day job today. There will be girls hormoned into boys, leather daddies, steroid freaks, guys with masks on leashes, and a big beer pit full of hairy men. I do not feel sexy at all. But I'll try to do a good job promoting.

It might rain.

Phil

Went for a walk today with my new neighbor Phil. He's tall, lean, has blue eyes, and looks like a young, extremely good-looking version of Charles Isherwood.

He gave me sex advice.  I have been torn about whether to have recreational sex or whether to save myself for love-only situations.  So far I've been dry as a desert since my breakup the day before Valentines Day (I know, I know).

Unlike me, Phil is neither neurotic nor Jewish.  He just says be where you are, see it for what it is, don't put too much expectation or meaning into something.  And don't deny yourself experiencing natural, good physical contact as long as you don't project all kinds of stuff onto it that isn't there (or isn't there yet).

Maybe I'm saving myself for that someone special.  Like a Bride of Christ?

Teri

For some reason tonight my thoughts go to Teri.  Teri designed the costumes on my first "big" show in New York, in Nov. of '98, the same month I had my first gay experience (in the East Village, with a Southern boy named Ryan....what a firecracker!!)... Never looked back.

Teri lived and worked in his brownstone in Brooklyn--three floors stuffed with costumes.   He was a one-man warehouse of different historical periods.  Who needs a time machine when you have someone like Teri?

He was small and Eurasian (Asian?) and his boyfriend smoked and had long black hair and wore a kimono.  He was always designing three shows at once.  Then he suddenly died.

I feel like interesting old shops in Manhattan are being replaced by WaMu's and Starbucks.  Teri (and his work) was the human equivalent of a curio cabinet--he'd always surprise you with something wonderful.  Anyone who works in theater knows how the right costume or accesory can bring a character to life.  Teri had that special knack.  We shall not see his like again.  I miss you Teri.

Cell phone brain tumor

If cell phones cause brain tumors, then I am definitely getting a brain tumor.  I'm on the thing ALL the time.

I would say if I could have one wish, it would be to go back in time and uninvent cell phones and the Internet.  I really liked the world better before these things occurred.  I used to sit down, have tea with friends out of china instead of paper cups... I read poetry by the fire with my Dad... and oh yeah--I was nine.

I wonder if people with ESP get brain tumors too, or if that's a different kind of radiation.

I think it exists; it's just not scientifically measurable yet.

It is a scary thing to think there is a world of energy beyond what is perceivable to the five human senses.  That could very well mean that my grandmother is watching while I masturbate.  Not cool.

Betty

As a lowly intern on the Broadway show Waiting in the Wings, my first assignment was to help Lauren Bacall get off book.  A producer was there before she arrived and said "who are you?"  I told him I was filling in for Ms. Bacall's assistant for a week and he said, "I hope you're wearing your steel jockstrap."

Indeed the manner, behavior, and aura of Ms. Bacall--or Betty, as everyone called her--were exceedingly toxic.  I am convinced she suffers from Narcissistic Personality Disorder.  At 16, she was the Queen of Hollywood--Royalty!  Wouldn't it be a letdown to be downgraded to a normal life after that?  She's the type of person who walks into Cartier and asks them to loan her their jewelry--permanently.  As though she's helping their marketing by letting them use her as a necklace board!

The thing is... as much of a bitch as she was...you couldn't help loving her husky voice and her black pantsuits and her jaunty sense of humor.  Even as she was making everyone else around her miserable, telling you you got her the wrong sandwich (even though you ordered exactly what she asked for) or yelling for her coat--it made her happy.

Never Cats

I've only had two long-term boyfriends. Both had cats.  I had to take a Benadryl every time I wanted to get laid, or even just sleep over.  Recently, a fellow named Tofu Todd sent me a recipe for vegan cat food.  Aren't cats totally carnivorous in the wild?  I know eating locally and switching to veganism from meat-eating is supposed to be better for the planet.  But is a cat really gonna eat your tofu, Todd?  Is that the future?  A green future of vegan cats?