2001-07-02

Sunday morning. Tick-tick-tick goes the clock in my ear. Hearing it as I lay on my side on the half-made bed. Must get up must do things. Must write. Why can't I write? Why can't I make art today? Why can't I make art anymore?

These are questions best not contemplated before coffee.

Get up and finish making the bed. Thinking about The Boyfriend. He should be on his way to an event he's scheduled to do shortly. I wonder idly at how strange it is to think about him but not tell him or call him, and wonder how I can do better at showing it. I wonder what the difference is between obsessive love and just regular committed love. Ha ha. Commitment, like what they do to crazy people. In a ham and eggs breakfast, the chicken is involved, the pig is committed.

A heretofore unrealized drawback to monogamy: if you blog about your sex life, everyone knows who you're talking about.

I had the night off last night from The Boyfriend, skipping our usual Saturday Night date since we'd double-dated at the Paramount Theater on Friday. It worked out better for his schedule too. Besides which, I have the apartment to myself while the Roommate fulfills a family obligation. So it's nice to spend some time in my apartment alone.

I thought about going to the Hole in the Wall last night, as I walked to the convenience store to buy chips and Gatorade. I decided against it, since it was late and I've kind of forgotten what to do in a bar alone. I used to pick up guys, or kill time before the sex clubs opened. Oh, yeah, there was the friends at the bar portion of the evening's entertainment too, but that's secondary to the pickup, isn't it?

So I didn't go. I was dressed for the part, though. I was wearing black shorts and Doc Martins, and my new Necronomicon T-shirt, and broke out the motorcycle jacket because the other jackets I had "didn't look right." Basically sending a message that I do care what other people think about how I look, but just not that much. A look which said, I'm a punk and don't mess with me, except that my hair is grave danger of voting Republican in the next election.

Note to self: Get a haircut this weekend.

I was making up for a Friday when I wore white instead of my usual (monocromanic) color scheme. My favorite joke when I wear a white shirt instead of a black one: "Yeah, some days I have to wear the other color."

So, on my way back home with chips and Gatorade and other geekly treasures from the Mini-mart down the street (Snacks at Midnight on Saturday: you'd think I was stoned), several drunk women piled out of a car and start staggering towards my street in their Fashion Outlet finery. I'm doing my best to ignore them, perhaps too well. But my one outstanding and perhaps defining characteristic calls their attention.

"Nice Legs!" shouts the drunkest one. "Oh, shut me up," she tells her friends. I half smirk, my heart racing. "24 Hour Nautilus, right?" A number of responses flow through my mind. I'm a tough punk in the big city, I'm a Brujah Vampire amongst the Kine, I'm not the Hoochie-Daddy for you this evening. I let go, let god, and let my mouth open.

"Oh, You know it, Honey!" An open field of choices and my mouth picks the most extremely-gay sarcasm-queen response. I'm not sure if the stunned silence was because they weren't expecting to hear Miss-Industrial-Thing come out of my mouth, or, as I suspect, they were just gobstopped at an answer that made no sense whatsoever. At least I had a good laugh about it later.

So even with Republican hair and all, I did get passport pictures taken. I should have worn something other than white; after a brisk walk in the sun to Kinko's I was flushed and sweaty, so in the photo my face is floating, puffy and pink, kind of like Kirby, with hair. But now I've got my form ready; now I just need my birth certificate from the fireproof box in my parents' house and I can apply for the passport. That will be one step completed. Then I just have to request the time off, plan what to pack, plan and book the trip itself, master the Spanish language...you know, the little things.

_Casey

2003-03-29 - Moving Notice
2002-06-04 - Accordians and Ambassadors (Diary Fragment)
2002-05-24 - Manias (Diary Fragment)
2002-05-09 - See this little island here?
2002-04-24 - Bored and Drippy.