30 november 2002
it's hard to say which is more painful at this moment: my freshly tattooed right shoulder (i did it i did it, after talking about it for too long. there will be pictures purty soon), or seeing me and my 8 chins in all of the photos from last night. no, i'm not even linking to any of them, they're that unseemly. good thing i have a party of my own next week where i can art direct.
28 november 2002
when i was little, i thought that thanksgiving was always thursday the 28th, so i'm psyched about it this year. common is playing at sob's december 18 and 19—i'm going, but i'm worried that just seeing him will make me cum. or at least throw my underwear on stage.
coffee tastes fuckin good in the morning when you're not in a rush to drink it in.
on the subway yesterday, saw a guy then cruised him while he cruised me back then realized we used to work together and looked away embarrassed. i listened to alice coltrane dedicating songs to her late husband and focused a cool gaze on the subway strap i was dangling from. he did look great, though, even though i didn't really like him when we worked together. i wish i could grow some sideburn/beard action and then shave my head, like he was doing.
27 november 2002
do you ever write something that you think people will respond to, and nobody does, and then you feel embarrassed that you wrote it?
favorite titles on craigslist men seeking men today:
1 -- 23 yr old giant reptile seeks loving luna moth
26 -- fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag fag
32 -- love long BJ asap (midtown)
58 -- 9" long escort
59 -- suck my dick in the UES and then leave
66 -- ANYTHING ON EARTH!!! - ltr
24 november 2002
i just emailed my sister to ask for gift suggestions for her kids, and then realized that i'd sent the email from my slutty hookup email account instead of my first initial last name one. how can i be such an on-the-ball copy majestrix at work and such a dumb hermaphrodite at home?
23 november 2002
though this love may hurt a bit ...
i kind of laugh when you cuss at me
the aftermath is you touching me
because my company just finished acquiring another company, we had happy hour at 3:30 with heinekens and brooklyn pilsners. because i agreed to help mo set up for his party, i was drinking champagne at 7. because the party was a hit, i was drinking wine from 9 till midnight. because neuroticjew and i met up for a drink and a whiff, well you get the idea. and then i had a dream that a friend of mine was trying to give me hickies and finger me in front of his boyfriend and woke up with morning wood and dry mouth.
that guy in the two months off video looks like he's having a lot of fun, just splashing in the pond and flailing around and saying "you bring light in" over and over, and then floating up in the air and swimming around in it with the rainbow action shining down.
22 november 2002
eight days and counting till tattooing.
17 november 2002
2:33am
kenyon's party last night was pretty fierce, yo! mo's were lapdancing, femmes were fighting, i saw a radiohead t-shirt i'd never seen before, i put my face in a girl's titties for the first and last time, i traded stories of european sex clubs with a good buddy, i heard about him and a moroccan hustler in berlin, except (you knew that was coming, didn't you?) as i went to get my coat, i saw that the entire coatrack had collapsed under the weight of the party's intensity, and there was no way i was going to find my $3 umbrella. so i eventually got home in my post-halloween "sewer rat" costume. here's to the wet look.
luckily, when i got off at delancey street, i was walking down the platform to the exit and saw, in another section of the train, a black woman with a regal weave nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. on the non smoking subway. at 2:22am. black girls are the coolest.
16 november 2002
in my dream i was doing what i sometimes do while awake, at least at work: editing. someone was writing about how something we sell is used to "remainse" and "remangl"—usually i don't have dreams with text in them, but i remember how these words looked exactly, and then still in the dream i typed them into dictionary.com and they were both in there, and then still in the dream i googled them and they were there. but now that i'm awake, they're not there—remainse is, but only in other languages or as typos.
gap is doing an online casting call, not that i submitted a pic or anything.
14 november 2002
yesterday as i was walking downstairs i ran into a couple that lives a floor below me in the building. they asked me if i'd noticed the video cameras on the fire escape pointing into our apartments. it turns out the whole building is being watched. i can't believe i got my lease renewed. the male member of the couple said "they want a show, i'll give 'em a show!" and i said "maybe it's time for me to get curtains" and both of them said at the same time, "naaah!" and then we were all on our way.
10 november 2002
favorite words of the weekend:
estranged
(walking down the east 50s toward 2nd avenue after barney's, saturday afternoon)
gerrymander
(studio opening, hell's kitchen, early evening saturday)
maven
(early bird dinner at aunt baba jean's, sunday)
9 november 2002
the video installations were not necessarily the best works at the opening, but because they were moving and on a screen, that's what everyone stopped and stared at. video art seems lazy to me in a way. with visual art, sometimes i think that it's trying too hard to be entertaining, and i just want it to be in repose and let me do the moving and changing, because otherwise why not just watch t.v.?
8 november 2002
my name's paul and this is between y'all.
- pulp fiction
7 november 2002
listening to destiny, what i always listen to when i'm on my way. the cabbie is racing another cabbie down the street, and pulls up next to him at a red light. "mohammad," he calls him. mohammad looks over at us with baleful eyes. i look for my cabbie's name badge, and i think it was something like porat.
porat: "you see how he's driving? very unfriendly."
me: yeah.
porat: he swerves and drives down the middle of the street so nobody can pass him.
me: yup.
porat: these freaking people, it's not a game. if someone wants to pass, let them pass."
me: that's right.
porat: mohammads.
i take one ipod earphone out so i can listen up if he wants to chat some more. cab drivers have conversations the way my mom used to when she was scolding me—there were pregnant pauses, but you needed to stay alert for the next round or else matters would get worse.
it's cold outside afterwards, when i'm on my way back home, but i decide to walk to save some cash, get some exercise, and clear my head. this walk is familiar and thoughtful, but i guess every gay man in new york eventually develops 100 different feelings associated with walking down eighth avenue. i'm listening to destination (beach towel mix) which i always listen to when i'm on my way home.
6 november 2002
there's nothing like moving and being without cable modem for three days to make you realize that you are pathetically addicted to connectivity.
m o r E