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Saturday, May 25, 2002 Boning Up on the Vagina I was at the Tattered Cover in Denver this evening, right across the street from the train station, a magnificent WPA relic. Back when Amerika had a culture, remember? I bought some funny cards to send to a faraway friend and a copy of Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues. Everybody's talking. Figured it was high time I boned up on this seminal work. 
11:12 PM | link | 
Come open the gate. Come ride your horse. Gonna say these words: rompiendo la monatonia del tiempo some sleazy goddess walking around in those jeans oh touch my crashing heaven baby I believe. Erzulie Ge-Rouge take me, terrible loa most beloved. Love and desire take me in your tears. Sond� mirori, I am your sun. 12:13 PM | link |
Thursday, May 23, 2002 True Stories "Picking up something good." Something pretty much entirely grand, actually. -Radiohead. 8:09 AM | link |
Monday, May 20, 2002 Baby, Come Forward! This gives a whole new meaning to I never had a chance. You didn't even let me explain! I mean, just because I was rolling around in bed that morning moaning oh Francesca, oh Erika, oh... what was your name again? was that any reason to lock me out of the bridal suite and not even throw my pants out into the hallway like I asked you so many times? Nicely, I thought. Please, Halley, can I at least have my pants? A towel? But no. You'd made up your mind and there was no way to convince you that it's always been you, baby, no matter how many times I went out catting on the Champs Elys�es during the engagement. There was never really anyone else. Well yeah, Monica and Genevieve, but that's all. OK, and Evette. But it was that song that kept running through my head. Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir. I couldn't help myself. Can't you understand that? Mom warned me years ago that you'd run off with some Episcopalian theologian. And see? I knew it. All our dreams about moving to Tasmania and setting up the chinchilla ranch, gone just like that. It wasn't about the croissants and you know it! You're just jealous. And it seems like we only just started. I mean, when did we first meet? Saturday, wasn't it? I told you we shouldn't fuck with the fabric of the universe like that. But you had a better idea, didn't you? You women are all the same! And before the coils had even cooled on the Chronosynclastic Infidibulum, you're down behind the stadium with some other blogger going "Have you ever seen Paris in the Spring?" Oh Halley, Halley, what went wrong? Don't come back and leave me stranded in this bleak, heartless present. Come forward. Give me just another 30 years. I can change. 7:54 PM | link |
Boundary Issues So I'm sitting at home last night and find myself sorting socks and making deviled eggs for the school picnic. What the hell!!! What school picnic??? I think I must be losing my mind. In fact, I'm convinced of it, thank god. I keep flashing on our honeymoon in Paris. I'm so sorry about the croissants, I can't tell you. Can't stop thinking about what might have been with the lover I never had. Not exactly like some Norse madonna kneeling on a stone floor offering me exotic chocolate. Better. Less like Fellini. More like Felix the Cat. It's too late now for all the things we might have said. Too soon for all the things we will. Certainly we're past all notions of propriety and tact. We are passing beyond the realm of explanation, frameworks, systems, whether closed or open. There is no method to it any longer. Polishing up my soul a little over here. Practicing. I'll be your baby tonight, because baby you're the top. Who knows where it goes from here... 2:46 PM | link |
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