Alia's missed connections

Alia H. was in the building for a meeting, so I met up with her for a drink afterwards. We went to the French restaurant where yet another of my emotionally unavailable boytoys works. (But we didn't go to his section, we stayed downstairs. I'm too old to stalk anymore, and plus, I've already enjoyed his company many times. And I am always afraid that he will accost me in the restroom of the restaurant, as he's warned me he will! Restrooms are for peeing!)

Alia is famous for having had five "missed connections" entries written for her, which is crazy to think about! But today, Alia was mourning a real missed connection - she just broke up with her boyfriend! Arg, I liked him for her. Such a sad situation. We commiserated about that sort of stuff, then, as a joke, I showed her the "GrindR" app that's all the rage with the kids. Right away, she coerced me into emailing some nearby guy, and now me and the guy are just as chatty as teenagers. She's such a good cyber-wing-woman! I forced her to accept a couple of hugs from me as partial payment.

I loved her outfit, but then when she took off her scarf and coat, she was wearing the same thing she always does! I love her consistency, and her ways in general. We will movie it up soon, Alia H. Stay strong. Doomed relationships lead to better ones. Things happen for a reason. Hugs are therapeutic.

Another sneaker shot

I went to meet up with Robert at my new favorite bar, XES. As I walked, I noticed that the hem of my pants was badly stained yellow-ish brown, and I practically fainted with embarrassment. What happened there? I haven't worn these pants in so long (they are among my "punishment pants" that I've kept to remind myself how fat I got a year ago). I kid you not, it looked like I had stepped in poop. But I reasoned that this gave me much-needed "street cred," and I kept walking, head held high.

I wanted to blog about walking around in poopy pants, but then Robert put his feet into the pic, too - so it turned into a different pic, and a different post.

The last guy I photographed with our feet together for my outfit blog - I'll call him "N" - performed a wonderful dance last week at Dixon Place. I texted him with gushing praise afterwards, but, as usual, he kept his own counsel. Whenever I contact someone that I know with gushing praise and don't get much in the way of response, it feels like I am teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to topple over! I will keep my praise to myself in the future - I'm learning that it doesn't pay to be as friendly as I've become. Must ... grow ... colder ... to keep up with the gays. I am grateful that I went to that performance, though - I stopped off afterwards at a nearby, nearly empty gay establishment, and made a weird new friend. Perhaps there will be a picture of his shoes and mine in a future post, but perhaps not. Either way, I didn't use exclamation points in my texts with him. See? Growing colder already! :)

Ada's party

I went to a party for Ada Calhoun's new book, Instinctive Parenting. I was worried that there would be a lot of mommies at the party, but I worried for naught. Instead, the party was filled with East Village arts-types, Ada's famous (and very cute) parents, and Tim Gunn from "Project Runway." Since I didn't know anyone there, I ended up talking to Tim briefly - I wanted to find out if he was as nice as people say. We talked about our mutual friend Emmett, and Tim suggested that we hang out together with Emmett soon. What a nice thing to say! I will suggest that to Emmett soon, once my downward spiral is less downward.

Also there was Kenny Mellman, who sometimes performs as "Herb" in Kiki & Herb. I vaguely know him, so we chatted for a second about JD from Le Tigre's new band, MEN. I miss Kiki & Herb! And I miss Le Tigre! When will they play again?

I also chatted, most awkwardly, with the manager of The Phoenix who banned me for life from that bar for making fun of his band. Have you ever chatted lightly with someone with active hatred in their eyes for you, for a minor incident that occurred ten years ago? It's both disturbing and refreshing to see people hold on to their emotions for so long.

Ada wore a beautiful black gown, with a bunch at the waist - I couldn't tell what it was - maybe a sash, or a hidden brooch? She's in the center of this pic, partially obscured by a redhead. I loved her outfit, and I truly respect Ada - anyone who could draw such a kooky, jazzed crowd at her party is probably someone I would get along with famously.

My friend Matthew

I have a friend Matthew who decries all things "gay," but who works designing accessories for ladies. This must present such an internal struggle within himself! Every time I say something with a twang, he mocks me and calls me gay. "So saith the fashionista," I said drily last time he said that. The ironic thing is, the gays have never really liked me, so I am as non-gay as a gay can be.

I really loved a bag Matthew made, with ostrich feathers, and I am going to commission one from him for my friend Alia's graduation this May. She likes ostrich feathers, and now that she is going to be a lawyer-on-the-go! she will need a bag.

This is a picture of him in my apartment, holding a copy of Justin Taylor's Everything Here is the Best Thing Ever. I love that book! Matthew told me not to blog about him, because he knows lots of lawyers, but I am blogging about him anyway. You can't really tell who he is from this picture anyway. Bring it on, lawyers! :)

Matthew is so mean to me! He calls me names, but then he sends me sweet, assuaging texts calling me "babe." *sigh* It probably isn't going to work out with him. He is 20 years old ... urk. I know, I know. I am always lobbing arrows of desire out towards the gays of the world, but somehow they fall outside of my age range. Why is that? Is that because my personality is so ... off somehow ... that only the insane and the young can relate to it? OMG, Matthew had a mid-term yesterday. I sent him a text telling him we should celebrate when he could, and he replied, "Ha ha dork." Pretty soon, he will probably send me another one calling me babe, which will assuage me yet again. I'm pretty easy to assuage. :)

Paula

I went last week to my cousin Paula's exhibit at the "Wearing Spirit: Aesthetically Personifying the Feminine in African Sacred Traditions" show, at the Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Insitute. Whew - I'm glad I finally had a reason to go to the CCCADI - they send me emails all the time, but I never want to go see their shows, and have felt terribly guilty about it (I'm Caribbean, after all!). So I'm glad Paula gave me an excuse to go.

In this picture, she's standing in front of her piece, a quilt/collage that's so intricate I had to stare closely at it for a few minutes to even begin to absorb it. I love collage - most of my best work (and my best outfits) have involved lumping together random, disparate pieces and then standing back and hoping a general "tone" has emerged. Sort of the Anne Sexton way of dressing.

I absolutely adore Paula and her husband Luther. It's been one of my best accomplishments in my adulthood that I've grown close with them. And when I end up in an institution (or vice versa) I'm sure we'll be there to visit each other and make collages out of each other's psychotropic medications.

St. Patrick's Day

As always, I forgot to wear green today on St. Patrick's Day. In fact, I'm wearing brown and purple and blue - I am spitting in the face of green, actually. (But not intentionally - green is my favorite color).

I work a block away from the parade route, so I went to watch it, briefly. Maybe this evening I'll go to Barrage and see what people are wearing. In the olden days, I would stay away from the bars on St. Patrick's Day because it is "amateur night," as it were. But now I enjoy watching people get drunk. It's comforting for some reason.

I took this picture of the St. Patrick's Day parade crowd in front of a weird clothing store. I have a bit of a crush on someone who works inside, whose home is even more squalid than my own, but you have to play it cool with these things, you know? ;)

Jeans and a t-shirt

I went to the MARY launch party this past weekend. My story "Here's what happens at the movies" is going to be in an upcoming issue of MARY - yay! I was going to wear my new shirt created by my friend Babatunde to the party, but then I got a pimple, and didn't want to rock two new looks at one affair. So I went in jeans and a t-shirt instead, and William's sweet boyfriend took a picture of me. He said I looked evil, but I think I look sort of innocent! :) (And Babatunde, don't worry! I will wear your wonderful shirt soon!)

I once saw Cher being interviewed on "The David Letterman Show," and she told David that, when she wasn't doing a movie, she liked to hang out in "jeans and a t-shirt." I was a child then, but even then I was struck by the wonder of that statement. I wondered what kind of jeans, what kind of t-shirt Cher would wear. Perhaps jeans of baby's tears and a t-shirt made of flame. (Looking back, I probably related a little to the narcissism of her saying that. That's probably why I'll never forget that statement).

Once I read an interview with Debra Messing, who joked that when Cher appeared on "Will and Grace," she dropped out of the sky from a rope ladder, said her lines, then climbed back onto the rope ladder. Ever since, sometimes I try to convince people that I've just seen Cher hanging from a rope ladder, being transported throughout NYC by a helicopter that she never actually entered, just hung from.