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Saturday, 29 September 2007 (if i see it) 12:13pm The Philip Glass show last night was great, mostly just him playing the piano. It's the third time we've seen him, the second time being the Koyaanisqatsi and Naqoyqatsi performances from last year. So that's Philip Glass three times and the Kronos Quartet twice, not to mention Patti Smith, The Stooges and Low this year alone. We're so hip it hurts.
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Friday, 28 September 2007 (everything has its plan) 2:19pm I tried, I really did, but the god/cosmos/universe-thing just did not want me to get any work done last night. Java Beach was packed and rather hostile-looking when I swung by there around a quarter to six, and I could tell without getting out of my car that my table at the Sea Biscuit was occupied. Fuck it—I needed to get Death Proof for Bad Movie Night on Sunday from Lost Weekend, so I headed Missionward. But, ooh, wait! The Three Dollar Bill Cafe, at which I am no longer hosting the Queer Open Mic but I am still a regular, and most importantly, seeing is generally plentiful. I got settled, then kicked out inexplicably at nine—seems their weekday hours have changed, and they're now only open until nine, not ten. Feh. So, I went into the Mission anyway to give Ritual a shot. They're open until eleven, so I'd still be able to get another hour and a half or so. Got a table, placed my order, dashed next door to Lost Weekend to get the movie, then settled back in...only to get shooed out at ten, their new closing time. So, both the Three Dollar Bill and Ritual shaved an hour off their business day. It's times like this that I really understand the most common complaint New Yorkers have about San Francisco: everything closes so early. We might as well just start going to bed at sunset and done with it. Speaking of the Sunset, it also goes to show that the my part of town isn't quite so hick, since Java Beach is just about the only coffeehouse open until eleven anymore. Neener, says I. Vash and I are going to see Philip Glass at the Herbst Theater tonight via free tickets from one of my company's clients. Tomorrow will most likely be spent hunkered down working at Wonderland, and Sunday is most definitely the Folsom Street Fair. This weekend will be much better than last year's. Like this next month overall, the second weekend in October is going to be a busy one: I'm featuring at the Queer Open Mic on Friday October 12, and on Sunday October 14 I'm going to be in a reading at Edinburgh Castle for It's So You. Neat.
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Thursday, 27 September 2007 (writing on the wall) 7:52pm After Java Beach closed last night, I picked up Johanna and we went to Quickly for slushy tapioca drinks. We walked around the beautiul 19th and Taraval neighborhood, commiserating under the harvest moon.
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Wednesday, 26 September 2007 (perfect just like me) 8:11pm Low's playing at the Great American Music Hall tonight. I considered going, as I had no other plans for the evening, but I'm not. Why? Because I was there last night, front row towards the right (directly in front of Mimi Parker), as they played "Do You Know How To Waltz?", and that was a perfect moment. It's a song which I hadn't thought there was any chance in hell of them playing, since it feels like it's from a different era of the band, but they did it, brilliantly, all ten-plus minutes of it, and I'd never realized before just how much the song is structured like having sex, lord knows I let out a deep breath when they finished, and...if I went tonight, it probably wouldn't be as good somehow, and I don't want to sully last night's memory. The lead singer, Alan Sparhawk, was working the merch table before the show. As I was buying a CD (he pulled out his own wallet to break my twenty, which seemed appropriate), I told him that I was really happy I'd be getting to see them play, that I'd been looking forward to it for a while, which was true. That was the short version, and thankfully he didn't seem to be in much of a chatting mood, because if he had been I probably would have been all yeah, it's weird, i've been working on this book, it's also going to be a solo show but right now i'm focusing on getting the damned manuscript finished and it'll be as long as it needs to be, but anyway, i've been listening to your band a lot while i've been working on it, and considering that the book is about my experiences at a sex club and struggles with non-monogamy and my feelings about the girl whom i love probably more intensely than i've ever loved anyone else, love loss regret and redemption are the themes, it's either a love story or an elegy or both, but low has pretty much my soundtrack, which isn't that unusual since a lot of what i've written this past year has been to the tune of either willie nelson or marilyn manson, i tend to focus like that, and—anyway, at this particlar moment in my life your music means a lot to me and i just wanted to thank you for that and really, I think that would have been too much to lay on him.
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Tuesday, 25 September 2007 (attempted translation) 11:44am My contributor's copy of It's So You: 35 Women Write About Personal Expression Through Fashion and Style arrived yesterday. It's still neat to see my name in print—and spelled correctly, too. Plus, unlike my pieces in I Do/I Don't: Queers on Marriage and especially Good Advice for Young Trendy People of All Ages, I'm quite proud of this essay. I read it again on the bus ride home, and it feels complete and whole, which the other two did not. I still like the I Do/I Don't piece, though in retrospect the formatting was very lazy, and I still shudder to think about the Good Advice bit. Learned my lesson, didn't I? Never go over the maximum number of words, no matter how bitchin' you think your work is. Seriously. My plan last night was to drop off a ticket for tonight's Low concert at Sadie's place, then go to Ritual or the like to get some writing done. She was at the Artist's Television Access, where I ended up watching The World of Suzie Wong as part of the ATA's CineWhores. (Still got the ticket to Sadie, at least.) Jarboe was the host and organizer, and afterward we talked for a bit, agreeing to hang out next week. It was pushing eleven by the time I left, and I didn't get any work done at all, but that's okay. It was good to take a break from the book, especially since I was in the midst of a crisis about it. I know I can finish but, but I was uncertain that I should. I'm mostly past that now.
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Monday, 24 September 2007 (words we will never take back) 3:26pm And suddenly, things get busy. Busier, anyway. I'm working the Power Exchange's table for a few hours at the Folsom Street Fair this Sunday, and I'm going to be in a Creepshow Live episode during the last weekend on October.
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Sunday, 23 September 2007 (a good casting job) 5:20pm The father of the bride (not the father of the groom) was was an old Scottish man with a heavy brogue in full regalia. Sadly, no pipers collapsed.
We drove back to Vash's after the wedding. This morning, we walked to one of our regular breakfast places (taking us past Barefoot and Rox's old house), and then went to see David Cronenberg's new movie Eastern Promises. He's still my favorite director, but I can't wait until he gets out of his Crime Movie phase. Back at Wonderland now. Vash is painting and I'm writing, and all is well. History does not always repeat.
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Saturday, 22 September 2007 (the degree of difference) 4:11pm The wedding is in the house of the parents of the guy who directed Night of the Creeps and The Monster Squad. I feel like I'm among cult movie royalty.
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Friday, 21 September 2007 (backdrifts) 5:03pm I ran into Venice last night at the Three Dollar Bill. Coincidentally, it was where we'd met up last week before going to the Power Exchange; she was there for a class, and I was writing. We spoke for a few minutes, and then she headed out. We'll be playing again at some point, but there's no telling when. Vash and I are going to a play at The Dark Room tonight, and tomorrow morning we're heading into the uncharted depths of Yorkville for the wedding of a coworker. It's on the calendar anniversary of our first date two years ago, and I can only hope the weekend will end better than the other time we went up north for a coworker's wedding, a year later.
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