ultranow

if this were 30 years ago

if this were 30 years ago and i were sick as i am today, i would also have stayed home.  i would also have watched tv.  i would also have not eaten much.  i would also have wished mr. rogers were my family.  i would also have felt helpless and alone.  i would also have ached and burned up.  i would also have craved a magazine that would take away the discomfort of flu.  distraction is powerful.

if this were 30 years ago, i would also have stayed home but home would have been a house instead of an apartment and there would have been people around me instead of nobody though i would have disliked those people.  i would have eaten chicken soup which would have done nothing but make the maker feel better while now i eat pea soup for the protein.  i know mr. rogers is not my family and that he is dead.  i miss work instead of school but feel the same fear of the world passing me by and me not minding it so much because the world that passes me by may not be the world i desire to live in because not all is perfect in that world. 

i know distraction is not powerful.  i know healing is possible.  i am sick and can't think clearly.  my temperature won't stop being a fever and though i know fever kills the illness it hurts my back and eyes.  i don't like today and though i hope not to be sick tomorrow i may not like tomorrow.  something isn't right in the world that's passing me by.  fever brings clarity.

toothpaste when sick tastes the same as it did 30 years ago.  sour and awkward.  crest.  my body knows being sick.  my body knows flu.  it it timeless.  where i am has changed.  who i am changes each breath but sometimes who it changes to lines up with who i was 30 years ago.  once i missed two weeks of school with something.  i think strep throat.  i was surprised that when i came back kids had signed a card welcoming me back.  i knew it wasn't sincere because i knew it wasn't.  some kids who signed it were bullies.  the hardest part about sliding back into the world that is passing me by is welcoming myself back.  i can't count on cards from anyone now.  sincere or not.  i have to welcome myself back into an imperfect life.  i wonder what i missed today.  30 years ago being sick meant missing how to write the letter "i" in cursive or the mystery of the schwa sound finally revealed.

what worries me most is that rejoining the world after a day of fever, a day of being out of it, will reveal i have missed nothing besides the roles i fill.  nothing besides being somewhere.  being sick hurts for what is revealed that i miss and don't miss about my outside life.  in that, 30 years ago and today are the same.

what? a feeling!

i can think of no better way to celebrate my finally buying some styling jeans (two pairs actually) than with irene cara's what a feeling (ultranow distressed denim mix).  just like fashion, the key with this track is layering.  actually i think that's out.  the key to fashion is nudity.  in advance of nudity, i discovered my taste in denim is not for the extremely deconstructed (rips and tears and sludge) but for the non-generic branded designer jeans (not levis, not diesel) from somewhere else in the world where they understand my legs and ass.  the names of the companies which understand my legs and ass are little big and j & co.  love them.  the challenge has been, as with purchasing furniture, the balancing of form (gay) and function (jewish).  this is a broad stereotype i'm applying to myself, and yet it's completely accurate in this context.  bottom line, i want it all, and at a reasonable price.  i spent a bit but but but i am worth it, or at least my ass and legs are, and that business up front.

i had a thought a couple of nights ago right as i was going to sleep.  a psychotic thought.  luckily it faded away after a few moments.  the belief in the idea faded, not the memory of the idea.  the idea is that i am meant to be myself, and not just when i'm alone.  i'm meant to be myself around men.  around prospective dates and boyfriends and lovers.  i really love the word lovers.  it's dreamy.  the idea is that i haven't met solid matches yet because i'm a fraud from the get go.  i look at myself through another man's eyes and become who i think he wants me to be and i wish he would become who i want him to be.  but who can keep up that level of self/partner-delusion for long?  besides candy spelling.  i'm so on tori's side by the way.  she wanted to do an aaron spelling tribute and candy blocked tori's use of the clips.  what the hell?  what's she gonna hump the clips?  anyway...

five self-embarrassingnesses (yes, paris hilton is involved)

five  sometimes i'm afraid to make eye contact with people because i think their eyes are going to shoot death rays and turn me into a colander, and not the good kind of colander from sur la table but the bad kind from ikea (which i pronounce icky).  i have never been proven wrong.

four  i don't always think kathy griffin is 100% brilliantly hilarious (more like 79%).  face it people, she's d list for a reason.

three  i've turned down one night stand opportunities that i actually secretly wanted at the time but was too busy maintaining a self-contained i'm looking for a boyfriend posture to admit to myself that the person offering wasn't boyfriend material but was sexbomb material that would have made everything better for exactly that one night.  these turn downs do not even include men who've flirted with me to whom i've remained oblivious because i'm not in a mode that can conceive of a man flirting with me because i'm not feeling my best at the moment.  what's embarrassing are the lies i've told myself about men, about who they are and who i want them to be.  and the lies i've told myself about myself, about who i am and what i want, and who i want to be, and who i want to want and why.  if it feels good do it is not what i'm talking about.  if it feels good, consider doing it.  if it feels good, it feels good.  feel.  good.

two  if i ever get a dog, i'm going to name it mr. rogers and we'll watch mr. rogers together and cry often and deeply, especially during that episode where the goldfish dies.  and most especially on that episode where daniel the tiger does anything because i love daniel the tiger.  still.

one  after being clued into its existence yesterday by chrisafer at blah, blah, black sheep, i can't stop listening to this song [expired].  as in can't stop.  as in its play count in my itunes would be 27 if i ever let it get to the very end.  as in its play count on my mp3 player would also be 27 if it could count.

stop the world i want to get on

whatever phantasmagorical world father and son sexpot duo mateus (father) and kaike (son) carrieri live in, i would like to be a member. i would pay taxes and do the dishes and dust the trees and peel the grapes. and judging by the popularity of my previous post - kaike and mateus carrieri (gulp) - so would would many of you. here are three more pics of my heroes of sexual liberation complete with garden of eden (minus eve) backdrops.

but i don't live in their world. instead what i see everyday are john kerry bumper stickers (hello! give it up already!) and breast cancer awareness bumper stickers (hello! give it up already!) and jews for jesus t-shirt wearing schizophrenics, and the same homeless jew in a yamalka and clear rain slicker selling the homeless newspaper not realizing that he's destined to wander in the desert/city for 40 years.

3 out of 4 of these things are true

1. when i was 17 i stole a book on australian lifeguards from the mall which included this exact shot.

2. i've appeared on public access tv as "hotpants jesus".

3. i picked up a huge dicked homeless appearing guy in the park near my apartment and brought him back to my place where he sucked me off while jacking his massive uncut dong.

4. i met mr. rogers when i was five.

can you spot the lie?