This evening, Embeth visited. It's a schoolnight, so she wasn't able to stay over.

She'd wanted me to do it, but after five needles I was too giddy and endorphin-y to trust myself. Even more than that, the environment was all wrong; I require neither absolute quiet nor privacy, but the New College had rented out a room down the hall for a children's party, and they were very loud. The sound of the kids screaming and running up and down the hall reminded me quite a bit of the zombie extras hitting the outside wall of the theater in Night of the Living Dead. For the play, it had the desired effect of setting me on edge. In this context, it was very much not desired. Anyway, Max did the honor on Collette as well. It was only in for a few minutes, but that was long enough for her to get sense of the potential.

I really wasn't in any condition to drive just yet, so we stopped at the Lexington on the way back to the car to relax, drink some juice, and come down sufficiently. It was good.

Today, with any luck, I'll get some writing done.

Etched into the sidewalk on Brannan between Third and Fourth (across from the Wells Fargo) is the inscription JEFF C. It startles me every time I walk by.

3:54pm

I've been asked to host Bad Movie Night this Sundayas, as both the original host and and movie fell through. However, Embeth is trekking over on Sunday, and....yeah. No Bad Movie Night for me.

4:30pm

Tonight, it's a play piercing class at New College. There's no telling who'll be there.

sometime after midnight

if you feed something, it will grow.

Speaking of erotica readings, I am not performing this Saturday at Kinky Phylum. It was looking for a while like Lady Monster and I both would be, but, well, we're not. Alas. It's always a bummer to lose a gig (even when it's questionable whether you had it in the first place), but especially when the flyer is like this. Isn't that hot? I so wish my name was on it. It's almost as neat as the one for the Bad Date Show.

11:36am

Wanna know what I hate? (Sure you do, or else you wouldn't be reading this.) I hate it when world leaders condemn attacks. You know, the "barbaric," "repugnant," "terrible" attacks. The pigs really know when to reach for their thesaurus. It's so hypocritical, so hollow, this outpouring of "sypmathy" from evil men who can and in many cases have ordered far worse atrocities. But that's politics, isn't it?

2:10pm

addicts, they fuck up your life.

5:09pm

I'm strongly considering renaming my apartment. It's been called the Cozycave for only a year or two at this point, but so much has changed since then, not to mention the last few months. (Naming an apartment all is rather silly, of course, but that's beside the point. I've long since stopped caring about such things.) (So strange to think that, in about two or three months, I'll be the same age as my mother when she conceived me. I don't think my life now could possibly be more different from hers was at the time. It's a safe bet she didn't name the house on Scott Street, or the one I grew up in on Tenaya for that matter.) The current frontrunner is the Blacklight Black Light District. Sure, it's all kinds of goth and pretentious—which is a good enough reason right there—but it's derived from one of my favorite Coil albums, which just goes to show I'm incapable of a single original idea. Besides, it's fairly appropriate, especially when I take a picture with the black and xmas lights turned on and the camera's flash turned off. Sure, it's all smoke and mirrors, but why should pictures of my home be any different than pictures of myself? call it fake, i call it good as it gets...

sometime after midnight

Collette and I attended another class at the Citadel tonight, along with Taos and Kai. A term I've heard a few times previous was used, but the significance of it never dawned on me: aftercare. Literally, it means the top taking care of the bottom after the scene, helping them come down from what can be a very intense high. I observed it at The Power Exchange a couple weeks back, which is why I got a good vibe from those people, and it's what was missing from that night last year. (No, not that night. The other one.) The way the evening ended seems all the more inevitable. History will not repeat itself.

At about a quarter past midnight, just as I was getting ready to go to bed, I got a frantic call from Maddy. She was locked out of her apartment. I have keys, so I rescued her.

4:34pm

The issue of Girlfriends with my Poppy interview is now on sale.

Regarding that Marilyn Manson cover band idea, I've decided that I want it to be all girl/trans, and that I'll front as Courtney Love rather than Manson. Kinda like Dread Zeppelin (Elvis impersonator fronting a reggae-style Led Zeppelin cover band), but more musically faithful. I think there's potential.

sometime after midnight

Had dinner with Lynnee tonight, the first time that just him and I have hung out in a while. It was good, as always. He allayed some of my fears, reassured me that some of the decisions I've made over the last few weeks have been the correct ones. For as hyper as he can be, there's something in his solemn nod that speaks volumes. Afterwards, we watched Jacob's Ladder at his apartment (it was either that or Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, and thankfully I got to choose), then headed to the Lexington. There, I met a person whom I strongly suspect is going to be the first recruited member of the band. I'd been considering calling it Fundamentally Loathsome after my favorite Manson song, but Coma White is probably a better name, in spite of how much mileage I've already gotten out of the title. It'll be easier to fit on a flyer, anyway.