|
26 september 2000
should you turn away Who is "Shelly" at Evite and why does she keep bothering me? ~~~ I'm lying in bed, staring at the dress I wore last saturday. It's bunched up in a ball at the foot of my bed. Grabbing it. Intriqued... Women's clothing fascinates me. So many options. So much room for creativity. Then again, so expensive. And I stare at this singular piece of cloth, half cotton, half polyester, sunflowers so feminine. I wonder if I'm meant to be female. Not to take that the wrong way or anything... Rachel and I were talking tonight, and the whole "lesbian trapped in a man's body" thing came up. I dunno. Does this dress attract me because of what it is, or does this dress attract me because of who I might picture wearing it. Taking it off of. Unzipping, sliding down, revealing someone else's body to be joined with my own... Clothing is not about what it is; rather it's about what it hides. So yeah, I took a slight bit of perverse enjoyment out of dressing up as a woman. There, I admit it. As uncomfortable as the bra and spandex and other shit was, I kinda enjoyed it as a new experience. At the same time, I have no nagging desire to do it again, and would hardly wanna do it on a daily basis. On the contrary, I'd most likely abhor it. (on a daily basis, I don't know how women do it) At the same time, this dress sits on my bed right now, and it exudes femininity, and I hold it up in front of me and it speaks in its own language. It singularly spawns a craving within me, exciting my imagination, a vision of fulfillment, female, the one I've yet to find, perhaps never, but hope springs... Angel informed me today that they want to repeat that last show. That means me in drag again. Just as my beard was coming back. I refuse to relive the discomfort and humiliation of our last gig, however much the audience "loved it." Whatever happened to the idea of me being _just_ a musician? Case in point: have you ever tried to maneuver a Hammond B-3 volume pedal in high heels? It's fucking impossible! Let's not even mention the slippery sustain pedal on my synth. ~~~ Monday is stop smoking day. I refuse to use the word "quit," because no-one, including myself, likes a quitter. Monday. October 2. Kinda arbitrary, but then... I wanna be a nonsmoker by my birthday. I was born so close to midnight on October sixteenth that my mom was given a choice between the fifteenth and the sixteenth. She chose the fifteenth. That's my birthday. Midnight, October 2, exactly two weeks before my birthday, is when I will stop. Two weeks later, I will be able to celebrate my birthday as a non-smoker. And yet, further research reveals... October 2 falls smack-dab in the middle of the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hoshannah. Hmm, can you say "resolution?" Yom Kippur follows. High Holydays. Atone for your sins, sweet shrimp. And so I will. Here's the kicker. I went onto this interactive Jewish Calendar today, just to see if anything falls on October 2. Lo and behold, it's a little known holiday called Tzom Gedaliah, a "minor fast" in honor of this dude Gedaliah (a scribe nonetheless) who was assassinated by a fellow Jew in some political coup. So in honor of the event, Tzom Gedaliah was declared a holiday. Ya can read about it here if ya want. Not that this has anything to do with me quitting smoking, aside from the obvious fasting aspect. I just found it kinda conincidental that when I was born, my parents gave me a Hebrew name as well, and it's on my birth certificate: Gedaliah. So they named me after an assassinated scribe? October 2, Tzom Gedaliah. That's monday. Hope I don't turn into too much of an asshole in the throes of nicotine withdrawal... 26 september 1999: : on a long hiatus26 september 1998: : on a brief hiatus 26 september 1997: forward backstrokes : Weekends were invented for the sole sake of recovering from days like this. [ swim back | email me | swim ahead ] |
