Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Alexandra Lee's LiveJournal:

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Wednesday, June 8th, 2005
11:54 pm	Revelations #1 Subscribe to Maxim: You will learn more about masculine behavior than any trusted male advisor will ever tell you, in large part because Maxim assumes that no woman reads its publications in depth. #2 Reminding "people" in subtle ways that you are really, really, super-fucking smart equates with less accurate info about the patriarchy yet preserves some measure of self-respect. #3 Reminding yourself that you are really, really super-fucking smart when you get accepted with your 7th scientific journal leads to champagne. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, May 20th, 2005
1:13 pm	PND Apparently, this phenom which is making me rant such as I did in the last few posts has a name and a clinical diagnosis: Post-Nuptial Depression. Then again, everything has a clinial diagnosis. I'm currently a dual-diagnosis patient, suffering from PND (Post Nuptial Depression) and PAD (Post Avocado Depression). Both are caused by letdown after overly high expectations and ecstatic levels of excitement. (Comment on this)
11:01 am	What I want to hear: I want to hear someone say: "You can talk to me. You can open up to me, show me your hurt, your anger, your urge to hurt them badly and your urge to hurt yourself badly because you can't hurt them. The fact is that you now question your marriage; you wish that you hadn't taken the step because then you would still have your relationship intact and still have trust and respect for several people, a trust that will never regrow fully. You sometimes think, 'Maybe this is just evolution, maybe it's just a step, maybe things can grow back stronger, even if different.' But so much hurt has occurred in a way that wiped cobwebs from your eyes. You wonder if it's like post-pardom depression, there is so much expectation and then you find out in the end that you are just a woman, no matter what. Just a reduction back into biological function and social expectations. No one can even really see you. You though you'd escaped but you didn't, you fell even further into the trap that you'd wanted to avoid because you ignored the warning signs. And now, you can't even let it out. You think about retaliation, you fantasize about getting even, hurting people, ignoring them, growing distant in order to punish them, in order to make someone realize how much they hurt you and how much they may have fucked up something really, really big. You get wedding invitations from girl friends and you just feel sad, for them and for yourself." (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 26th, 2005
10:37 am	The beginning! As of 3 PM today, I will have gone 9 days without smoking! I'm giving what will hopefully lead to a longer, healthier life to James as his wedding gift :) (Comment on this)
Friday, June 25th, 2004
9:29 pm	Friday Night in SF So long since I've posted. Life keeps on flowing so quickly that I can barely realize what day it is... A brief recap of the last 6 months: James and I are committed to be committed. I eschew legal marriage mostly because it makes me feel trapped and I don't believe the US gov't has a right to interfere in my romantic life, but also for a reason that typefiend (tongue in cheek or not) referenced: I will never legally marry until all people (at least in the state of CA) have the right to choose and marry any partner, regardless of gender/sex. Anyway, we're having a late summer 2005 ceremony officiated by both my Mom and Dad and will sign up to be domestic partners in order to (a) share health care, and (b) have the legal right to see each other in the ER in case of emergency and make decisions as to life support, etc. I'm starting to get excited aoout having kids, which I've never felt before, but the idea of having James' children makes me happy. Now, we have just 3 years to wait! I started a new job, which I'll discuss in more detail later since my reaction has been confusing. James and I moved into a house together. It's lovely: In Noe Valley, with tons of skylights, front- and backyard gardens, and a study for me! I've always wanted a book-lined study for my very own. We finished making the last set of shelves tonight. The only thing the room is missing is a fireplace, but it's still cosy. I'm getting a few of my pieces framed and will hang them on the wall behind the sofa. I'm so sleepy but need to go to Nicole's birthday. J is planning a ridiculous "secret" party for my 27th. I wanted to go miniature golfing but he's rented out the Bubble lounge, a caterer, and 2 DJs. I'm not supposed to know any of this, but I always manage to find out :) Best news ever: I'm getting a cat soon!!!!!!!!!! (7 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 8th, 2004
7:06 pm	I feel like I keep on returning to my 21-year old self: Parties, substances, instant connections with people that may (or may not) develop into real relationships. I had one of those night on New Year's Eve (or, the 26 hours from 7 AM Wed to 9 PM Thurs) where I was hopeless in crush with someone I'd just met. It's strange to me that sometimes I can attract lots of people, like people come up to me on the subway or cross several rooms at a party to talk to me, then other times it's like I don't exist. I think I must send out "friendly vibes" sometimes without realizing it. Other times, I desperately want to be left alone. I do need to slow down a little bit...I can't live the "rock star" life (as James puts it) every weekend without consequences. On a side note, a few things I've cooked for dinner parties lately: 1. Coq au vin 2. Vichyssoise 3. A Thai dinner consisting of (a) hot & sour soup, (b) laab (made with turkey, though), and (c) a whole de-boned stuffed duck (the deboning took over an hour! -- never again!) 4. Southern Indian meal: (a) avocado-coconut soup, (b) fiery ginger mushrooms, (c) fresh corn-niblets bread, and (d) a cauliflower, eggplant, and potato grain dish. 5. Rib-eye steak with (a) rocquefort-red wine reduction, (b) a basmati-marinated cucumber, tomato, and green onion salad, and (c) some weird casserole made up of layers of mushrooms, spinach, zucchini, eggs, and herbs. Good eats! But not so good since I haven't been to the gym in a month! (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, December 24th, 2003
10:08 am	Festivus + Orcs I have just learned what Festivus is and have taken it upon myself to celebrate it as inauthentically, although belatedly, as possible. Little did I realize that I have been participating in this holiday for most of my life. A few examples: Last year: Steal mini X-Mas tree from table-top at Ma Tante Sumi (not my actual aunt, but Sumi, the owner of the restaurant, is cooler than my real aunts, except the 6-foot tall ex-model, mrrwow!) by sticking it down my pants. Receive gift of a bundle of dried twigs wrapped with yellow packing string from my ex. Wonder what it is. Decide, to the horror of my neighbors, to put it up on the front door. It looked remarkably similiar to those twig bundles from The Blair Witch Project. At 17: Go to Puerto Rico. Refuse to come out from under my headphones until my stepfather agrees to at least TRY to speak Spanish to non-English-speaking waiters rather than using English at a slower and progressively louder rate: Him (at top volume): "DOOOO YOOUUUUU HHHHAAAAVVVEEEEEEE BEEEEEEER?" Me (in dramatic whisper to him): "They call it cerveza, try that." There's nothing like being a brat to brighten up the holidays! And, the crowning moment of X-Mas cheer in my life: At 12: Sitting down with the fam after unwrapping all the gifts to the announcement that my parents were getting a divorce and my father was moving out. Sheesh, my therapists just love that one. *** I dreamt last night that my job had decided that, in order to improve productivity, we would live and work summer-camp style. Like, all live together in cabins, eat bad cafeteria food, and work constantly with the exceptions of arts-n-crafts hour and nightly around-the-campfire jamborees. At one point, I discovered that all my clothing was dirty because it had been worn by ORCS. ORCS! I need to stop re-reading Lord of the Rings. This is getting ridiculous. And no, Legalos was not at the summer camp for some post-lights-out fun and games. Once again, mrrwow! Now I will list for no one's benefit at all my gifts for the year: For Pete's dog: Plush turtle chew toy; lamb sausage treats; a mysterious large animal shank (possibly goat?) For Pete: Some sort of thing that lets him play guitar anywhere in the house and hear it on all the speakers For James: Programmable coffee maker with auto conical burr grinder; crock pot; and sexy underwear Castro-style For Donna: 2 "South Bay"-style clubbing shirts. Only I would walk into the hippest store in the Castro looking for cool shirts while wearing a tweed overcoat, cashmere pants, loafers, and old-man-style umbrella. The sales lady came up to me and said, "It looks like you need some help." She was right. For Sharif: Gift certificate to J&R. For everyone else: Gift basket containing homemade tomato-ginger chutney; sweet n tangy lime chutney; cinnamon-hazelnut biscotti; and "Lucifer's Love Potion" -- hot sauce made with habaneros, jalepenos, and chipotle. So, the best of Festivus to you all. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, December 16th, 2003
12:47 pm	I have been really down lately but this is most likely due to: a. I took a lot of pure e on Friday (for the first time in 5 years). Somebody said something really mean to me; I threw up 2x; and was generally ridiculous in a group of people I don't know well. My serotonin is quite low right now. b. It's winter. c. I may lose my job to lay-offs (again!) I worry and fret in these states. I worry that James will stop caring about me. Or that he'll come out of the closet some day when I've actually settled myself into the idea of loving him. I feel like I need a lot of emotional reassurance right now. I want to just lie in bed and be cuddled. I've finished 2 chutneys for this year's Solstice gifts: Tomato-Ginger and Sweet Lime (that one is really weird -- very tangy. I had to add a lot more brown sugar than the recipe specified). Note to self: James and I need to design labels this week. General notes to self: Tonight, can lime chutney Other things to make: * Hot sauce * Last batch of tomato chutney * Meuslix * Think about actual gift baskets (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 4th, 2003
3:24 pm	DISC Training I took a personality test for work. It was strangely accurate, yet when I am painted in an impersonal, unflattering light, I come across as a cold-hearted, strategic bitch. According to the test, I am intelligent, analytical, ambitious, and goal-oriented. Yet, coincident (or perhaps correlated) to these traits, I have a tendency to see everything holding me back as an unnecessary obstacle and do everything in my power to remove it, even if it's human. I also freak people out by being overly academic/professional. And, apparently, I sulk. This is true, as I sulked about my results for most of a day. My life has always run along the lines of a motto that got me out of Yale with a 3.81 GPA -- "You do what you've gotta do." This has meant many things in my life: Maintaining bad relationships because I'd rather keep my enemies close to me than have them recognize that we're enemies; staying up 5 nights in a row to get a few A's; and constant analysis of next steps in my life. Yet, here's how my friends see me (according to them, I asked): I am caring, I will stick with them through thick and thin, I articulate emotion, and I am sensitive to others and myself. Yet, they also recognize that I have a strange mix of privacy and transparency, i.e., I'll spend a week doing nothing but reading by myself, but am willing to tell them everything I'm thinking. I hate one part of my history and that is: I have chewed people up and spat them out, for one reason or another. The most common reason is people who threaten my security, such as ex-boyfriends who have deliberately attempted to erode my self-esteem and ex-boyfriends who have done things that implicate me in illegal activities. In other words: I love you if you're honest and honorous and I will treat you like gold, like a sibling. But if you're not, a warning: Do Not Fuck With Me. My, my, do I accept the evil bitch side or do I try to change? I see my resolve and self-label as this: I will be sweet until further notice. If I need to do so, I will become a goal-oriented strategist. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 26th, 2003
7:56 pm	Me: Accidental Super Trashy Ok, so I get dressed for work today and realize I've fresh run out of clean laundry, so I decide to wear an 8-year vintage Laura Ashley skirt (people who actually know me would be shocked by this info, but the skirt is black and really long, so it's OK). Go to work, realize men on the street are double-taking me. I'm covered head to toe in either black or burgandy, carrying a briefcase, so I figure it can't be my unsurpassed gorgeousness that's causing all this attention, but I can't figure out what it is. Go about work as usual. Head home to the Mission (for those who don't know SF, the Mission is FILLED with sketchy men who follow single females around and actually try to touch them without permission). Get out of the subway when this girl approaches me and says, "I don't mean to alarm you, but the back of your skirt is completely see-through and all these weird guys are following you right now." So, I realize 3 things simultaneously: (1) the skirt's so old that the fabric has started to wear away, (2) I've conducted business meetings in this state of expose, and (3) I have 5 mean, tough blocks to walk home before I'm safe. It went worse than I expected. At one point this whole bunch of men started hooting and shrieking, "Oh, Loooordy, she's wearing a thong!" I'm usually the first one naked at any party, but suddenly I became super, super body-conscious. I went home and (1) started laundry, and (2) cleaned out my entire closet of old clothes. I'm preparing my most ultra-conservative outfit to wear to work tomorrow and just hoping people will forget. So, anyone else, ever had an embarrassing experience quite like that (and I do mean "em-bare-assing")? Wait, now that I think about, I had one just as bad 4 years ago: I was wearing an Indian sari wrap-around skirt to a party and (once again) was out of laundry so I didn't wear underwear. As I was going up the stairs to the party, someone stepped on the string that held my skirt together, broke it, and there I was, truly bare-ass naked! Moral of the story: Control your laundry, don't let your laundry control you. PS -- I just realized that today I LIVED the dreaded naked at school/work/family reunion/criminal trial dream! Holy shit! (Comment on this)
Monday, April 28th, 2003
8:01 pm	Talking Heads My apologies to typefiend for not responding...I wrote a message which apparently did not get sent. I would rewrite it but I can't for the life of me remember what I wrote except that it was about running and weight gain. My body hates me. I only ate 6 grams of fat today and it's still upset. Perhaps I should go see a Dr. I've been moving too fast and too hard lately. Last night, for the first time in about a month, I slowed down for a few minutes (for Margot-a-Go-Go's Book Club, which was excellent) and had a total David Byrne moment. Quite literally..."This is not my beautiful house, this is not my beautiful wife, how did I get here!?" After an hour of running around the streets of Oakland feeling normal, shrieking "Off with his head" while brandishing an unbrella at Drew, I felt so blank and surprised. It felt terrible to go home and be alone (or as alone as I can get with Sharif around), lying in bed trying to figure out how my life transformed so suddenly in the last 4 weeks. Suddenly, I'm boyfriend-less, staying out all hours of the night, not even needing to sleep, able to work 17 hrs/day, thinking too much and yet too little at the same time. I keep on remembering being 20 years old. I think it's Spring that sparks all this in me. I remember running around like crazy, being able to work constantly and party all the time, being crazy in love with everything and everyone. And yet here comes David Byrne asking me existentialist questions. "Take me to the river, drop me in the water..." At least I'm not back into Stravinsky...give me a week and it's all over. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, April 12th, 2003
9:55 pm	I want to write, but I don't want to write in English...perhaps I won't. At least, perhaps I'll not write in English later. Do you know, I have my own language? I started inventing it when I was 11 and it's become really weird. It's based on a mixture of French, English, Japanese, and a whole bunch of languages I used to speak growing up but only seem to remember now when I write in my "secret language" (as I call it). It has its own letters, but unlike Japanese, it's not character-based (I only started incorporating Japanese into it when I was 15, which is when it became so weird...I had to invent my own grammatical structure to mesh Asian vs Romance vs Germanic influences). I've been in business meetings where I start writing in it (because I'm not paying attention to the meeting) and find other people around me staring at what I'm writing. I don't like it when people pay attention to what I'm writing in my own notebook. Once, at an "All-Hands" (a large corporate meeting where execs pretend to be disclosing interesting information to employees that actually has no real value), one of my co-workers saw me doing it and became fascinated, wanted me to teach her the language. Weird that she would ask...it's called my "secret language" because I write all my secrets in it. No way would I ever teach it to someone else. This language will either die with me or I will teach it to my children, so that they can read my journals after I die and actually know what I was like when I was 11, 16, 22, 25. I'm coming up on my 26th birthday in 3 months; I never thought I'd live this long. I hadn't written in it [my language] much for the last two years or so, but--when I started my current position--I found myself using it all the time. I was in Chicago last week and found myself writing in it late at night. Then, found myself myself writing in it during a training conference call last Thursday..it was strange: I thought I was writing in English, got out of the meeting and realized I hadn't been, thought I might have been writing in French (which is what I want to be writing in right now, but almost no one will understand me), then realized that (a) I was writing in my own language, and (b) that I hadn't been writing about the content of the call at all. That's why I'm here at the moment, because I want to write about what made me not listen to that call, but I feel like I can only write about that in a way that no one else can understand, because even I don't understand it. Silly girl...always strategizing, always thinking...too much energy right now: I want to run wild, I want to dance, and scream, and forget everything, and stop thinking about what makes me think so much at this moment. On a side note, my weight dropped down to 125 lb, so I had to buy a nasty protein shake today and need to drink it every day. I don't know why my body is so contrary, it can't seem to make a decision. I wouldn't mind so much but Sharif told me that I'm getting too skinny and I hate being too skinny. I think it's just that I forget when I'm running how long I've run for and then realize that I've burned 600 calories and have a BMR (base metabolic rate) of 1,500 calories, which means that I'm OK when I don't run, but when I do, I need to ingest 2,500-3,000 calories, which is a lot of food. I already eat 6-8 a day, so I don't don't know how I'm going to make up the extra calories. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, February 7th, 2002
11:19 am	To Continue... So. As far as I know, only one of you who reads this actually knows me (although Blake has asked me for the URL; I shudder to think about his reaction...I will probably get photocopies in the mail red-pencilled and criticizing my grammar alongside online comments challenging the veracity of my stories [why do I have to get the most meticulous man on earth as my best friend?]). However, things to know to understand where I'm at right now: I'm good at being alone. I very rarely get lonely when alone. As a kid, my parents dragged me all over Europe, to places where I didn't speak the language and, apparently, no one reproduced. If they did reproduce, they were hiding the children from me. In the summers, we would go to my family's cabin in the Adirondack forest. And when I say "forest", I mean _forest_: A small cabin next to our family's lake with no one around. I laugh when I think of the true wild-child I was: exploring the woods, hair tangled, trying to learn bird whistles so I could coax birds into my hand. Through these times, I learned to be my own company. My imagination was populated by people more interestng than anyone could ever be. I was content with a good book or an excellent classical recording (preferably Beethoven, Wagner, or Berlioz). Once every week or so, I would dress up and perform old jazz and blues songs for my parents and sister: Bessie Smith, Lil Joe Green, Billie Holliday. I was a "rock star". I was also a very weird child. By the age of 8, I had read Crime and Punishment. By 10, I could converse fluently with my parents' friends about Marxism, women's rights, and quantam mechanics. Imagine my suprise and horror to be deposited into a typical juior high school at the age of 13. Luckily, my English was bad, so I didn't become the "teacher's pet." My saving grace came in the form of Guns 'N' Roses. Suddenly, I had a passion other teenagers could understand: rock and roll. There's a point to this story. I came to have a large circle of friends, but I've always had 1 or 2 "bestest friends," like Blake. I get really used to spending lots of time with my best friend, reading, debating, studying, singing, just enjoying the comfort of each others' company. Until recently, Jeremy was my best friend, and my lover. Now, he's so busy I never see him. Last night, for the first time in 2 years, I got lonely. I mean really, really lonely. All my books seemed stale. My imagination seemed false, like an allusion of closeness that could no longer satisfy me. I had new music, but wanted to share it with someone. Sharif (my newest bestest-friend, and one of the best ever) was on a date. Jeremy was being surly. I couldn't muster up the energy to go to Berkeley or to the Sunset to hang out with other friends. I wanted to call Margo (who lives 4 blocks away) and ask if I could come over and read, but I didn't know if that was acceptable -- would she want to chat? Would she expect me to be "on" when I was decidely "off"? Did we know each other well enough to just enjoy phyical closeness? I ended up walking all around the Mission. Being a complete dork, I thought it would be fun to go to the Indian restaurant on 16th & Mission and read Foucault. The meal was so messy, and the Foucault so difficult, it didn't really ameliorate the loneliness. I finally found comfort in Kafka, one of my two favorite bookstore cats (the other is named Bukowski, "Hank" for short). I feel worried. I think I need to reassess my emotional needs. Why now? I have lots of friends, but with whom do I really want to spend time? On a side note, I'm interviewing tomorrow for a 5-month consulting position. Sounds promising... (Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 6th, 2002
10:20 pm	So. As far as I know, only one of you who reads this actually knows me (although Blake has asked me for the URL; I shudder to think about his reaction...I will probably get photocopies in the mail red-pencilled and criticizing my grammar and comments online challenging the veracity of my stories). However, things to know to understand where I'm at right now: I'm good at being alone. I very rarely get lonely when alone. As a kid, my parents dragged me all over Europe, to places where I didn't speak the language and, apparently, no one reproduced. If they did. they were hiding the children from. Uh uh, roommie home, will stop... (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 29th, 2002
12:07 pm	I had a very interesting and fun weekend. On Friday, I was sleepy, sleepy but went out to Ti Couz with Sharif and Calvin for moitie-moitie, raw oysters, and a goat-cheese-apple-walnut crepe. Saturday, Sharif, Jeremy, Kalle, Margo, and I headed over da bridge to Berkeley. My roommate insists on calling the town Berzerkely, which really aggravates me. I can understand tourists calling it that, or saying it a few times as a joke, but it's not THAT creative to necessitate constant repetition. We did a great wine tasting at Solano Cellars, where I picked up, among other items, a fabulous South African wine named Baobab. It is peppery, strong, with hints of leather and olive, yes olive, in the finish. S and I loved it, everyone else made puking noises. I got another wine with hints of licorice and sandlewood, but I promised to save it until Margo visits. Kalle and I are planning to design and cook a meal together based completely on the wines we tasted. One of the dishes I'm going to prepare is chilled and marinated coal-grilled zucchini with an aioli dip. We then headed to Ameoba Record store and Moe's book store. I got Miles' On The Corner. Should I ever star in a porno, I will use On The Corner as the soundtrack! I also picked up some NY "underground" hip hop I'd been hearing a lot about. I went to Moe's and read about Jeremy's great-great-grandfather, Otto Rank, in Anais Nin's diaries (he was her anaylst). I can see bits of Dr. Rank in Jeremy. Then: all met up with Rajne, Eunice, John, and Genevieve at the Macrobiotic Cafe in Oakland. Sharif and I are going to try to volunteer there...it was so delicious, so much fun, and I actually did feel better after that meal than I usually do. Plus, this was the first time I've ever hung out with Eunice. She is supa chill, the first person I've met in a while with whom I felt an immediate and quiet "click." Apres: Hot tubbing, lots of silly talk, greens, massages, redwoods, iced cream and sorbet, full moon... I forgot! So many catastrophes occured that night, the night of the full moon: (1) The saleslady at Solano dropped a full box of S's wines (12 of them!) and they broke and spilled all over the floor. (2) There was a massive 4-alarm fire on the way to the Cafe. (3) Kalle's cat Roman attacked a skunk and got brutally sprayed! We were all naked in the hottub during the confrontation and started shreaking and diving under the water to get away from the skunk. I remeber the time that a raccoon almost crawled into the hottub with us...scary, they're vicious little mo-fos. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
10:31 am	Long-Ass Survey-Type-Thing Of Which I Am Now Ashamed S.O. Survey: I don't normally do these things, especially not about myself, but I like talking about my Jem. Do you have a partner?: Yes What is her/his name?: Jeremy How did you meet?: I went with my ex to 111 Minna to see an electronica/jazz fusion performance. My ex spent the entire time trying to mack on some girl, so I danced by myself, for about 2 seconds, until Jeremy was all over me. I thought he was weird and I wasn't sure about hanging out with him until I discovered our mutual passion for Sun Ra. This, however, only reinforced my impression that he was a weirdo. When did you meet?: January 29, 2000 Do you remember a song that was popular at the time you first met?: You mean like, "pop" popular? That "Bling Bling" song. Popular with us? Umm, we screwed around a lot to Zep's "Whole Lotta Love, " but I guess we listened mostly to stuff like Zusaan Kali Fasteau and gamelan. Do you have a special song?: We like Montgomery Burns' song about making vests out of gorilla breasts Do you have a special movie?: Not that I'm aware of, but we love old Bogie flicks What is the age gap between both of you?: 10 years 2 months Do you like being older/younger?: Yes, it makes me feel like a "trophey wife." I have no idea what I'm trophey for, however, considering his background. Plus it gives me ample opportunity to make fun of his purple bell-bottoms and former enthusiam for KISS. Do you know their birthdate?: 04.02.67 Do you know where they were born?: New York, New York Is he/she a star sign that are you compatible with?: I certainly wouldn't know Do they have annoying habits?: Yes: he gets stuck on one topic, like evidentiary exclusion laws or Russian literary examples of moral philosophy, and it's all he will talk about for hours. Have you told them about their annoying habit?: I try to not stifle him. Do they snore?: No Do they hog the bed?: When he falls asleep in corduroy pants, all the covers stick to his legs Do you have similar interests?: Mostly, but I don't share his passion for bicycles. He does not share my love of cats, but puts up with me Do you have similar tastes in music?: Absolutely, we're always getting into new genres together, but he's more versed in the avant-garde, noise, and 20th century classical. I'm more versed in classical, opera, and hip hop. Do you have kids?: Does an 8-foot boa constrictor count? I named her, though: Natasha. Do you know what your partner is doing now?: Sitting in some law school class, probably environmental law, annoying the other students by being a "know-it-all." We share this trait. When did you last have a fight?: Last week. This sounds ridiculous, be we argued about special relativity and string theory. It got nasty. When did you last kiss?: Sunday (the last time I saw him) :( :( When did you last hug?: See above What colour are their eyes?: See above. OK, blue What colour is their hair?: Dark blond, long What do you think their best asset is, physically?: Cheekbones, ass...some other things I will be modest about What is their worst asset?: Constant lint in belly button Do you know their favorite song?: I don't think he has one, he's not that limited Do you know their favorite movie?: See above Do you know their favorite book?: See above, but he really digs Dostoevsky, Bukowski, Kathy Acker, etc. Do you get along with their parents?: They dig me. I'm what they always hoped Jeremy would either (a) become, or (b) be influenced by Do you know what really annoys them?: Bad drivers intent on killing/maiming cyclists, too much work/expectations, when I leave toothpaste in the sink, lateness, true yuppies If yes, have you ever done it to annoy them?: I don't think I need to answer that Do you know the name of their last partner?: Yes. I know the name of all his partners Do they ever talk about them?: Sure, I know almost every single one How do they feel about your last partner?: Ummm, that he's a good sax player...that he didn't really understand that Jeremy wasn't responsible for the break-up What is the best thing they have ever done for you?: Loved me. What is the best thing you have done for them?: Love, tenderness, encouragement What is your favorite thing to do together?: I don't know. Hike, listen to music, watch movies, go to shows no one else we know will go to, cook, fuck, talk, drink, eat Where is your favorite place to go together?: Too many to have a "favorite." There will always be a special place in my heart for Zeitgeist and Ocean Beach, since that's we first started to get to know each other If they are employed what do they do?: Law school. Used to be a social worker; a homeless activist; a professional political squatter; something in a record store when he was 22. What is their favorite food?: He loves mushrooms, smoked salmon, and exceptional cheese, such as Tallegio, Pecorino, Goat Feta. We are very, very similar, but he doesn't fantasize about avocados. What was it about them that made you fall for them?: Ummm, smart, good looking, socially conscious, good politics, taste in art. Well, this is what I like to say, but it was really the sex at first. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 24th, 2002
10:38 am	Rockin it, bringing the whole world to you... Trying to eat my daily apple, but my teeth hurt. Outside my office, there is currently a dragon-dog. His breath is steaming and swirling around him as he frantically rolls, barks, and evicerates a rubber ball. I checked my own breath and could achieve the identical trick only by virtue of a cigarette. I felt shitty yesterday and achieved nothing of value, with the exception of hauling my ass down to Burlingame for a dinner with former colleagues. The gossip mill was a-crankin. In college, we developed an assinine form of sign language. Gossiping was only accomplished when accompanied by a strange clenched-fist cranking motion, I suppose to represent a mill. We were too lazy to make a full "W" with our hands to signal "whatever," so we made a "V" between the thumb and index finger and agitated it back and forth to suggest the whole "W." Our version of spoken language has forever corrupted my standard English. I can't call anyone a "bitch," only a "biz-natch" or a "biz-natcho." Similarly, I have trouble saying the word "signs" without filling it out to "a language of signs and symbols," taken from the night that my friend Blake was almost shot and, as I desperately tried to get him to leave before the impending incident, he informed everyone that "everything was alright, Xander told me so without words, because we speak in a language of signs and symbols." (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, January 18th, 2002
10:49 am	The F(s) was(were) particularly interesting this morning. At first, I was in an 1895 train from Milan, Italy, and all the ads were in Italian (I think...my Spanish is so bad that I might not recognize the difference, but words ended in "e"). The seats were all polished wood. Then, after a technical difficulty, I transferred over to an open-air trolley with all-rattan seats and an actual cow-catcher at the front (Quote: "Once again, my underwear seems to have become twisted in a cow-catcher"). I think I like riding the F so much for two reasons: First, it allows me to imagine that I'm back in the 19th century or something. Second, it makes me feel like a tourist every day. I'm sure that once the novelty wears off I won't be half so delighted by the experience. But, I do like feeling as if I'm traveling to somewhere new, having my daily adventure. I've been having trouble sleeping on the days that I work out. Maybe it's too much adrenaline, but I thought I would sleep better. Last night's rest was murky, unrestful, completely defying its name and purpose. I keep on dreaming about the same person, over and over again. I figured that that person had become an archetype for me, some sort of Jungian embodiment of an intellectual/emotional/vestigal drive/impulse/state. But in the last 2 weeks, that person has entered my dreamscape with renewed force, the same theme occuring each time with minor variations. I never seem to get words or statements from the person, but body gestures...hostility, rejection, slight welcome, lack of recognition. I, myself, do odd things as a dream character. Things I would probably not do in real life. Why am I so obsessive about this? This person holds no real meaning for me. Just an archetype. But of what? Sometimes I think this person represents my Other Self. Something/one hidden inside my psyche -- what I could be? What I want to be? What I have rejected to become who I am now? Do I regret the decisions I made when "becoming"? (Has anyone seen that MTV show? It's awfully destructive to teenage self-conception, I think, but I'm sure I would have wanted to do it when I was 13). I wonder if there's any way or use in breaking this pattern. At least I would feel less angstful. Plus, I feel that I'm translating some of my dream-based actions and expectations onto my everyday behavior. Besides, I am in the right here. This is my home. This is my becoming. Yes, I am a bit annoyed, though. (Comment on this)
Thursday, January 17th, 2002
12:58 pm	Holy Calamity My, I am so nervous. I shouldn't be, I've done this a million times before. It's even easier this time because I am now a full "Consultant," without a true vested interest. But this always made me nervous. I'm trying to pysche myself up. I know I will feel relaxed soon enough and even have a sense of accomplishment later in the day if I do this. But, I also feel a bit paranoid. I think I heard my name mentioned in an associate's complaining conversation. I'm not sure if I correctly heard or understood her meaning, but I pray there is no hostility. Riding the F is so nice. So much better than my old commute, even factoring in the beauty of 280. It is quiet (as quiet as anything on Market St can be), and it makes me feel peaceful, and I like the old trolley cars...plus I love being able to overlook the Bay and the Bridge. It will be nice to able to read as I go to work in the AMs. And, I was struck by the affliction met by apparently every San Franciscan: hearing conversations on the bus that were good enough to be turned into short stories and wanting to do it. There is far too much MUNI-inspired literature as is. I am a rather quiet co-worker. There is so much chatter in this office, whereas I sit here and make typing and telephoning noises. Perhaps I'm not very social? This is something I should work on improving --the dreaded "networking." Ugh. The end of that little introductory rap is: "Holy calamity, great insanity, are you ever gonna be another great big fan of me." Handsome Boys' Modeling School. Quite excellent. I love when people can marry phrases like those--that don't first appear to have any phonetic relation to each other--into a rhyme. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 8th, 2002
11:16 am	"Oh, the horror." We really pissed off our downstairs neighbors Sunday night. Somehow or other, the apartment was transformed into "Club 301, International." It's all Kramer's fault ultimately. Ever since her birthday, we've been experimenting with strip-club moves. Everything was fine until Calvin discovered a Madonna CD. I came in from a cigarette to find a swirling mass of boys vogue-ing and sashaying around the "run way.". Have you seen Paris is Burning? Excellent documentary. Really helped me understand Judith Butler's work better. Anyway, I need to write a big apology. I guess I'd also better ask for my entertainer's license and liquor license applications back. (Comment on this)