B-Side myself

tomorrow is the big day. off to Paris. I can't seem to identify the source of my discomfort with this trip. it is no longer strickly financial as I my stipend deposited today. So I am a few hundred dollars richer.
I actually think I am stuggling with just what Paris represents. not so much for me but art historically. I have a hard time grasping it and I feel that I am going to have to in the short span of six days. It is something I haven't been able to describe till now. Paris just represents so much. It is beyond what it is and I am scared to be disappointed. I know that it isn't the city represented by Sartre, Lacan, Wilde, etc...insert name here. NYC used to affect me that way.
And I no longer have those feelings when I visit NYC. But believe me, they were there the first time. It was three in the morning, I had an interview at the Pratt Institute at nine the next morning, and my friend M and I decide that we aren't going back to Brooklyn (where we were staying). We were going to drive back into the city, specifically village and go to Stonewall. This is after we have driven down from Prov with my (now) ex, big KG and M. We park in a no parking zone (clueless out of towners) and KG proceeds to get hammered at Nancy's place in Park Slope (where we were staying). Now, this is many years ago when the Slope was not so nice and expensive, think more crackheads and bars on windows. She passes out and we all decide to head into the city where Nancy's roommate is bartending at "Planet Hollywood!" We spend several hours drinking for free. M and I leave the group as they were on their way to hardcore drinking. I was trying to be good and go back to Brooklyn! Which brings me back to our Stonewall decision at 3 in the morning. I couldn't be in the city without going to Stonewall.
We manage to park somewhere off of Christopher St. and head over. And it is just like every other gay bar I have ever been in. Pretty close to every bar I have ever been in. Except for the male strippers and porn on the TV. but otherwise...
I expect Paris to be like that moment. Just like everything I have seen only slightly different. I say this having spent most of my life moving from place to place and country to country.
I will have my moment at the Louvre and other museums. I plan on drinking great coffee and great wine. I am hoping that the food will be much better than Berlin. German food? not so much...one can only eat so much fried white fish and sausage.
Perhaps I'll try escargo again? It has been almost 10 years since the last time!
Tonight we went and had dinner and beers at the B-Side. First we dropped the kitten off at the sitters which was sad. She didn't seem to give a shit, just had new stuff to smell. But I miss her now that I am sitting at home, up late and alone.
She will be fine. Its kinda scary how much I miss the cat already.
The B-Side was great. We saw some peeps we know. had dinner. was craving Indian all day but I knew that the last thing I wanted was an upset stomach before getting on an overnight planride. Those bathrooms are not the spaces to be having bowel issues! seriously!
I'll try and post from Paris. Just to keep you all updated.

To finish the NYC story: We had a beer at Stonewall. Headed back to Brooklyn. Found KG up and watching TV. drank someones beers in the fridge. Slept on the kitchen floor while ignoring the roaches crawling over us. Everyone came back at about 5 or 6 in the morning. KG, M and I went over to Pratt that morning. Parked completely illegally at this police station. I interviewed with some guy and this Korean girl gave us a tour of the campus. It was horrible. They had a pretty cool library, all ninteenth century and shit. but otherwise...GHE-TTO! The campus was surrounded by housing projects. The poor girl didn't really speak english. We were hung over!Not good overall. Not impressive. We were so outa there. I didn't get accepted to Pratt but after the tour I was very, very glad not to have.

names...

Paris, you bitches

January is at an end. I just got an email detailing the due dates for the various stages of my thesis. I tried not to let it stress me out.
I went and saw King Kong. Mixed feelings about it. I felt that the love story was more believable than that of Brokeback. seriously. Perhaps it was that the acting was better? not sure.
I really wanted that "young sailer" to get killed. God damn it. he was fucking annoying! Just die already and stop holding up the narrative! Christ!
C and I are off on our very first vacation together this Wed. We are off to spend a week in Paris. I am a little stressed out by it. Don't really know why. Some of it is purely financial. I don't have a lot of money so all I can think about is how expensive the trip will be. and I don't know any French.
I am excited about taking photographs while I am there. I haven't shot for quite a while. it will be nice to have something to print.
we'll see how it goes.

names...

where to begin?

I want to talk about a couple of things. several things spring to mind immediately. The fist thing is Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch because it happens to be on VH1 at the moment. I was in LA a few years ago with my friend A. We were staying at her friends house in Brentwood. She was a lawyer and was born and raised in LA and her family were all lawyers. She told us that George Clooney was gay. not a big surprise. She knew because her father was a lawyer for Rosemary Clooney and the whole family knew, didn't care, not a big deal. What was interesting and relates the whole story back to Marky Mark was that, at the time Mark Wahlburg was making his mark(pun intented) as an "actor" and according to her was in a quite the affair with Mr. Clooney. To the point where their respective managers were telling them to stop hanging out in public together. I love telling this story because everyone goes..."oh...yeah! I get it!"

there is more but I am off to bed. had a fabulous expensive dinner for free this evening. details to follow...

names out.

Brokeback tedium

oh stupid paper writing. I thought I had a handle on this paper when I left the library yesterday...now I have no fuckin clue what I am writing about. damn it.
We went and saw Brokeback Mountain last night. I feel like I should post some thoughts about it because I really didn't like it. I wanted to, believe me I did. However, I walked away having experienced a gay film made by straight people for straight people. the audience was full of those uber-liberal Cantabridgian couples. I'm sure feeling oh so hip and cool by seeing a "gay" film. People were crying and quiet and wistful at the end. there was lots of hugging in the theatre. C and I argued quite a bit afterwards. He liked it. I felt that it was trite and downright unbelievable. I didn't believe that they were in love with each other. I didn't see any character development. Even their "first time" having sex made no sense! I expected better of Ang Lee. on that note, it was beautifully shot.
I was very disappointed. But I am sure the straights love it!
I hope that its success doesn't subject us all to another round of heartfelt gay films where someone dies and the other lives on in a sex-less and isolated way that is meant to be interpreted as brave. blech!

names...

another paper due

It seems appropriate that I post something today as I have to finish a paper (well, start it and finish it really). Technically it is due Tuesday so I am only procrastinating a little bit
Got back last night from two days in NYC. I went down early thursday morning. Its pretty scary when catching a 6 am train is fairly easy. It must mean something, like perhaps I am crazy or not drinking enough? Schlepped out to Queens MoMA and spent the day in the library doing research. it went like this:
1. sign into a building resembling an old warehouse only painted bright blue.
2. put stuff into a locker.
3. grab a spot at a table crowded with pushy female academics who are taking up more than their share of space.
4. print out the books you want from a laptop.
5. Sit and wait for an hour and wonder why I haven't gotten any of the books I requested.
6. finally go and ask librarian why.
7. have him tell me that it was up to me to move my printouts from the printer to the basket where the attendants grab and go.
8.restrain myself as both printer and basket are within two feet of said librarian.
9 resort to sarcasm in a vain attempt to get this asshole to feel bad.
10. resume waiting for books.
11. after an hour and a half receive books and begin reading.
that was MoMA.
Trucked back to town and went to a few gallery openings in Chelsea. Had dinner with my thesis advisor. She had one too many martinis and proceeded to question me on my life plans. I have none. I was merely planning on another glass of wine!

Friday was another fun day. I saw my first shark-skin and ivory table. I got to use it as my desk while spending 6 hours watching early video art from the late 60s and early 70s. it felt really weird. I kept running my fingers across it. I have felt a dead shark before but this must have been some fancy pants shark because I haven't seen shark skin like this. It was dark grey and had rather irregular bumbs that had been leveled down to make patterns. very strange, very expensive and completely useless in my book but then I am not a gazillion-aire venture capitalist. I guess when you are rich you have to search to find shit to spend money on.

Back to my paper...perhaps after more coffee.

names...

ohhh pointless nostalgia

I don't know what is going on with my life. It would be presumptuous to think of it as a real crisis but somehow I feel it is. I have submitted all of my applications. I am now dealing with letter writers who are having their own dramas and weren't able to write my letters. Of course they could have told me this two months ago when I wasn't past a deadline but then they are artists...
I love her (my letter writer)and I think she is a fabulous artist but she has over committed herself. I have to tell her that she kinda screwed me and I would have been better off if she had been honest way back when. god damn it.
anyway they are all in. If my letters don't appear is it my fault?
I have to say fuck it at this point.
C and I went out drinking tonight. we went to our normal place, Flash's. we hung out with a fireman. he bought us beers. Good times.
I think that my problem stems from a life change. Do I find a job? do I carry on with school? I just don't fuckin know.
I realise that in the scheme of the world these decisions are relatively minor but I am feeling really unfullfilled right about now.
Does this make existential crisis number 501?
As an aside I bought the Judas Priest box set. it has proven to be very entertaining. I am watching/listening to the concert dvd from 1982. It perfectly compliments my Rush dvd.
I am having flashbacks to my days in a Priest cover band. I really loved singing these songs.
god damn I am one cheesy mother fucker.

names...