In list order because that’s what life has boiled down to right now:

(Oh, and there is no rhyme or reason to my list).

1. In case you try to contact me and can’t and then suddenly remember that I have this weblog and come searching to find out where the freak I am, here’s my itinerary for the next two months.

June 30th at 8:30AM: Leave NY JFK for LON Heathrow
June 30th - July 10th: England
July 10th - August 7th: Charles University @ Prague
August 7th - August 12th: TBD in EUR
August 12th at 10:45PM: Arrive NY JFK
August 14th(?) : Toronto (4 work)
August 28th - ???: Burning Man (4 a different kind of work) and West Coast (for family on a number of levels)
???: Find a place to live in NY

So that’s my summer in a nutshell. I am really excited about leaving New York but I am also excited for my return. I have a mailing address in Prague but I don’t have it with me. Not that most of you will send packages, although there’s something about it being more likely for someone to send me a package while I’m in Prague then while I am here in New York. That’s because a. they can’t give me things in person unless they fly to Prague and b. it’s always nice to receive packages from familiar places when in foreign spaces.

2. My friend CHAUNCE HAYDEN is one of the ten competitors on The Howard Stern Show’s Win John’s Job contest. Basically, if he wins this popularity contest, he gets to be on the Howard Stern Show every day for the next three months and he gets paid $25,000 for doing it. Chaunce says he won’t take the money, that he’d give the money back to the fans, which is probably true, because a. i don’t think he needs it and b. even though he is fucked up and perverted, he is a good guy in some strange ways…and although I know he says he doesn’t care if he wins, it would be nice for him to win. He is one of my very close friends. So can you vote for him please? The winner is announced Thursday and you have to vote by midnight tomorrow night.

3. I just got back from San Francisco. Today, as in this morning at 6:50AM. I haven’t let myself go to sleep yet because a. it’s my last day in the states for 6 weeks and b. i am afraid i won’t sleep on the plane tomorrow even though I have some “guaranteed to work” sleeping aids. While I am so excited for my next big adventure, I will try not to fly out again on 24 hours turnaround. Unless of course I am a. a flight attendant in a future life or b. in one of my more masochistic phases. My eyes keep closing as I write this…

4. I think cats remember the person who “rescued” them. My former cat Alfred, who now goes exclusively by Silly, is always really lovey when I come to visit, which is what I am doing right now because he lives with the person who tolerates me a lot and lets me use her internet. We did sleep in the same bed for almost 3 years, and I did save him from what was seemingly a harsh environment, although I can never ask his first parents as they just threw him into a sex toy shop hoping some nice lower east side lesbian would take care of him. At least they got it half right - sort of. I just want him to miss me, and not everybody that walks through the door. Is that asking too much?

5. I have to go pick up my contacts. Don’t want to be stuck across the Atlantic without backup vision.

6. 3:47PM. I am supposed to have this conference call right now, but nobody’s calling. Still I need to stop writing for now. I will write again, hopefully tomorrow, because this blog has become part of my almost daily routine. But all routines shift or change when they have to, so i will have to wait and c. (Yes, I can be cheesy and dumb) how often I get to write. I am supposed to have internet access though, once I get to Prague.

7. Most exciting news, and then I will go. My book idea is shaping up. It’s really going to happen (now all I need is a publisher). If anyone is interested in writing a chapter and wants to know more, email me and I will send you the details. Maybe. If you’re lucky, and you have what I need…ooh..so mean..so secretive..

Farenheit 9/11 - Opening Day @ S.F.’s Metreon…

A lot of things that I did want to know, but really wasn’t sure I needed to know. That kind of stuff. From George W. Bush to my own personal life..I know to much..

SEE FARENHEIT 9/11- esp. if for some reason you are undecided about this year’s election, or even if you are not..SEE FARENHEIT 9/11- it’s not a good movie. it’s horrible. in the best of ways.

so. i wrote this piece for steppin’ out based on my experience of running into the boy that i was dating. It was him, I got confirmation, and somehow knowing this now makes me feel like shit. anyway, here is the story.
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Two paths could not have uncrossed more clearly than on June 22nd at 6:55PM on the corner of Prince St. and West Broadway. It was there that two people, a boy and a girl, both of whom spent countless weekends alone, but together, went their separate ways one final time. She was heading east and he north, and she noticed him before he ever got a chance to notice her. Even though she had only seen the other girl in pictures, the one he was with, she knew exactly who she was. This was as close as she ever hoped to get.

She looked nothing like the photos, this other girl, but she - the other woman, recognized her right away. From the curves of their bodies to their long, dark, curly hair, she could see the resemblance. Suddenly, she understood things that she had refused to believe. That this man, whom she thought she had loved, had simply needed someone to take his girlfriend’s place while they were apart. She had been the right type, at the right time, in the right place. Now he was with his girlfriend, and she was done.

For those 30 seconds that she watched him walk down the street, she knew he was never coming back. It was staring her in the face, as if projected on a larger than life IMAX screen - a lifesize image of the two of them.

She had no idea who he was; she realized this now, at that moment when she was ready to scream out his name in an uncontrollable spasm of longing. She grew angry with herself for the sudden loss of control; for the fact that her legs were failing to support her. She grew angry with herself for being affected by all of this. Suffer without me, she wanted to scream, but she knew that he would never suffer. He always had some girl to occupy his time; that was the reality behind the fantasy world she had lived in.

He was leading parallel lives. That’s Bill Clinton’s explanation when anything goes wrong and that seemed to be a good excuse for a number of people she knew. Somehow she always got caught in the crossfire, but she was done trying to dodge everyone else’s bullets.

It was a silent flash in the camera of her mind. As the last picture she’d ever need to see developed, she thought about what this had meant. She couldn’t erase the image she never wanted to know - the one of his hand around her waist, the one where he drew her close to him. It was just as he’d done with her, only now it was somebody else.

It ended eight months to the day it began, which was as ironic as the entire relationship had always been. But nothing could prepare her for those final moments, when two paths narrowly escaped a major catastrophe. When the other woman almost met the girlfriend in front of the two-timing cheat of a
boyfriend. That would have been another story entirely.
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I fly back to new york tonight. then off to england on wednesday. i am happy to be heading east - though i’m not sure where i am really heading at this point (and i don’t mean geographically, okay?).

SF M.A.P.
I am in San Francisco right now, and although I technically didn’t write today, it’s still before midnight pacific time, so I technically did..hah, all you east coasters..hah.. anyway, I guess I am obsessed with writing or none of this would matter.

It’s weird to be here. At first I was like, “Oh, I don’t miss it at all, I love New York” but that’s only because I am staying in the Marina. If you don’t know SF then none of this will make sense to you, but the Marina is like the Upper East Side only without fast public transportation. It’s really pretty there, right by the water and the Golden Gate Bridge, but it ain’t my cup of tea. Then I went below Market Street, more my speed, and now I am so sad that I’m not here. The weather is amazing. I actually heard my teeth chatter tonight and my hair looks great. I am so happy to be here, and actually, it has nothing to do with those superficial reasons. This is just a magical city.

I met two of the wackiest rich people on my flight. They carried their 3 lb. Maltese, ‘Feathers,’ in a Louis Vuitton dog bag, and I think they were, in some strange way, trying to marry me off to their son who doesn’t seem to love them that much. Another story. Another time.

I am in my other life. The place I was back in October. The place were I was “a dirty little secret” to some, but it’s also the place I found myself.

I know I’ll live here again. I have to.

a cute distraction

My world stopped for a brief moment last night at 6:55PM. On the corner of Prince and West Broadway, I crossed paths with the boy I had been “dating” for the past 7 months, only he was with his girlfriend and another friend. Okay, I’m not sure that it was him, I am waiting on a response on a call I made after almost losing all ability to walk, thereby causing my ankle to twist, which in turn caused me to react, dial his number and leave him a message. Whatever. I am not a stalker.

It was a surreal experience. Like I was watching a wide screen high definition tv, and I could see everything. And he has no idea that I was there. No idea. I saw too much. But I needed to see it.

And then I’m mixed up in another affair of the heart. One too “now” to talk about, and one that doesn’t really matter at this very moment. Not because it doesn’t matter, but because it can’t.

The wrong time, the right place. That seems to be the theme of June.

And then
I leave tomorrow…

Bill Clinton was on Oprah today, and although she does a really good job of asking good questions, he was a bit wordy when it came to lieing about his happy marriage and Monica Lewinsky. I don’t know, I really like him, but I think he talked himself into and out of a number of lies as he recanted the Monica Lewinsky affair. He has nice things to say about her, but she must hate that she knows he’s lieing at times. Monica Lewinksy was not Clinton’s first affair, (remember Paula Jones), and I’m sure there were others before her, but who cares? I would go even further to speculate that Monica Lewinsky was not, and will never be, Bill Clinton’s last affair. Bill and Hillary have separate very powerful lives, and power yields a great many opportunities, like the opportunity for sex.

Bill Clinton said he lives in two worlds. That was part of his “explanation” not “excuse” about Monica. Whatever. He had some other interesting stories and he tooted a lot of his own horn. Still I liked him, and I may even read (not buy) his 976 page memoir. He got a ten million dollar advance and it took him two and a half years to write. Apparently, at one time, it mentioned almost everyone he’s ever met. Then it was edited. Still 976 pages. Geez-us…

One more thing on Bill and Monica:
We are not monogamous by nature. That’s the truth. We don’t have to lie anymore.

(There’s something wrong with putting a picture of your grandmother after the word sex, but then again, I’ve never been “right”).

…was on the History Channel (duh!) last night. From midnight to 1am, a time I should have been sleeping, I glued my eyes open (literally) and watched a fascinating show on sex and religion.

It was on “Sexuality through the Middle Ages” and one thing I learned was:

A popular method of contraception in the Middle Ages was an animal bladder tied with twine, which was used and re-used over again.

And now I have just arrived in PA, about to go to class, when all I want to do is go to bed. I am leaving soon and am really emotionally volatile. I think my family hates me because I can be a bitch, and I just need to get out of New York to get my head on straight and to figure things out..

So soon. I leave for SF in three days..I can’t wait, I haven’t been back since February and it was such a good place for me. Maybe too good, I don’t know. I am just rambling now because for some reason I want to cry. I saw one of my oldest friends today - unfortunately not for happy things and that made me sad, but happy. So many mixed emotions. I’m drunk but I’m sober. I’m tired but awake. I sound like Alanis Morrisette after “You Can’t Do That on Television”. I’m cheesy but not Velveeta-ey…

And we wonder why body image is such a major issue in this country! Dr. Greenberg you sound like the biggest boob out there….Shame on YOU!!!!

From my favorite place for tabloid trash: - I copied the entire article for you to read..I still don’t want to believe it…
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June 14, 2021 — Forget the convertible. A boob job is the latest must-have on your teen daughter’s graduation list.

The number of 18-year-olds who underwent breast-implant surgery nearly tripled last year — from 3,872 in 2002 to 11,326 in 2003, according to the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery.

“There is a trend in which parents are giving implants as a gift, including as a graduation present,” said Dr. Stephen Greenberg, who practices in Woodbury, L.I., and Manhattan.

Popular, well-endowed teen idols, like Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan, as well as reality-TV shows like “Extreme Makeover” and “The Swan,” have made some girls dislike their own bodies, experts said.

“The media and fashion industries emphasize breasts and a curvaceous figure,” said Dr. Leroy Young, co-chair of the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery’s breast-surgery committee. “There’s no advertising [for implants] targeting that age group, but the images are all around them.”

Docs say most young women seek the enhancements out of frustration with the way clothing or bathing suits fit.

“It’s usually an internal issue — they want to feel more feminine, less self-conscious,” said Young.

“Most do it as a self-esteem booster,” Greenberg echoed.

Last week, the FDA released its new consumer handbook on implants — and included graphic photos of possible side effects.

Kathy Keithley Johnston, executive director of Toxic Discovery, an anti-implant group in Columbia, Mo., praised the FDA booklet, noting, “a picture is worth a thousand words.”

That parents willingly shell out $3,500 to $7,000 for a daughter’s implant surgery infuriates Johnston, a registered nurse who claims her implants made her seriously ill.

“They say it’s the girls making the decisions — but it’s the parents writing the checks. How is that any different than buying them alcohol or cigarettes. Shame on any parent that would endanger a teenager that way.”

The increasing popularity sparked Greenberg to set up a special program for young women considering implants.

“You really need to make sure they’re physically ready — that they’ve stopped growing — and psychologically mature,” he said. “In consultations, I try to get a solid idea of what their mindset is and how realistic they are about the outcome. They also need to understand this is real surgery.”

The blossoming teen trend worries Johnston, who travels the country explaining the hazards of implant surgery to high school and college students — an uphill battle, she said. Her presentation includes horrific photos of disfigurement from implant removal.

“If you’re a teenager, who are you going to believe? An advocacy group, or a surgeon who’s promising to make you look better?” Johnston said.

Among FDA- and doctor-cited risks are surgical bleeding and infection. Implants also deflate or rupture over time; they can result in loss of breast volume, misshapenness or wrinkling; and can affect mammograms, making it tougher to detect breast cancer.

There’s also a limited shelf life — breast implants usually have to be replaced at least once, and as many as several times, requiring additional surgery.

The vast majority of plastic surgeons use saline implants, which have been OK’d by the FDA for use on women over 18. In teens younger than 18, the surgery must be for medical reasons. Silicone implants are only available through FDA-approved medical studies.

Plastic surgery, overall, is on the rise, noted Greenberg. With 280,401 breast augmentations in 2003 — a 12 percent spike — “it make sense that the numbers have grown with younger patients, as well,” he said.

What life is all about.

First I met a right someone at the wrong time, only I wanted to believe I could change my clock and make it the right time. But we were only in the same time zone for a short period of any given time, and that was the way it was supposed to be.

Now, as my life is just starting again, I like someone else. I’m getting ready to leave for a while which is probably a good thing, because our timing is off as well. I’d explain more but it’s just too damn complicated…and frankly, at this point, it’s nobody’s business.

Timing seems to bite me on the butt. It’s not like it can miss, my ass is rather large.

Oh, and I am flying out of New York on June 30th, the day that Jon Stewart refers to as “Mess O’ Patamia.”

WASHINGTON (CNN) — President Bush and British Prime Minister Tony Blair vowed on Friday that the June 30 deadline for handing over sovereignty over Iraq to the Iraqi people will be met.

And I’ll be on an American Airlines Flight at 8AM from New York to London. Call me paranoid, but how’s that for timing?

Live with that excuse.

But it’s a good time to inform you about an upcoming reading I am doing. This is the first time I’ve given anyone advanced notice…I’m not going to make excuses for how or what I read, but if you want to come see me and some other amazing sex educators perform - there are two nights (I am only at the first one, in Prague for the second one - yes, I know, poor me)…

Dirty Mouth: The Babes of Babeland Read Provocative Words

Toys in Babeland presents 2 nights of sexually inspiring spoken word, poetry and fiction, written and performed by Toys in Babeland Sex Educators!

Tuesday, June 22nd @ 8pm

Hosted by spoken word artist and activist Carolyn Connelly, with performances by Felice Shays performer and co-producer of Submit Party, Jamye Waxman (writer for Playgirl magazine and Steppin’ Out) and Jennyrose (burlesque beauty and performer with Red Hots Burlesque).

Tuesday, July 20th @ 8pm

Hosted by spoken word artist and activist Carolyn Connelly, with performances by Erin (writer, photographer and performer), Jen Lux (Red Hots Burlesque star, her writing has appeared in Bust Magazine and Go NYC), Morty Diamond (editor of the new book “From the Inside Out: FTM and Beyond” and filmmaker of Trannyfags), and Kiley Oram (writer, co-producer and star of the Red Hots Burlesque).

Admission is FREE!
Toys in Babeland
43 Mercer Street
(Btwn Grand and Broome Sts)

Those pictures I promised

I am tired, as in exhausted, and in need of a nap. I told myself I had to do some errands today, but when I got to a place I could crash, I decided that a lot of these errands could wait til Thursday. My eye has been twitching all day, and while I think it just means I’m tired, it’s annoying the shit out of me.

Last night I had dinner with my oldest friend, as in I’ve known her since I was six, not as in she’s 104 or anything. Anyway, as Lauren and I grew up, our lives drifted apart. I had a boyfriend for nine years and she was eternally single. We moved into our first apartment together in New York, on 28th St. and 2nd Ave, and we grew closer. It’s almost as if living together made us switch lives…like Freaky Friday, only different.

See, on the very same night that I ended my lengthy relationship - November 30, 2021 and no, I’m not psycho, it happens to be my sister’s birthday so, of course I remember - she began the relationship with the man who would be her future husband.

My life as a twosome had been trimmed down to one, while her life as a single girl was over forever, or at least for a long, long time, since nothing lasts forever, and I’m not saying that in a morbid way. Now she’s married and looking to move to a place where she can start her family, and I’m single and looking for space to understand myself better.

I realized that I’ve never felt more alone than I do on the verge of thirty. But it’s in a good way. How often do we really get to know ourselves? How often do we spend enough alone time actually alone? I mean no calls, no worries, no wandering mind, that sort of alone time. The kind of alone where you do things that make you happy for the simple pleasure of rediscovering yourself.

These past few months I have remained alone because I have choices to make that can’t involve anyone else. And while it’s hard for some people to understand that I need to be this way, it’s the only way I want to be. I know that anyone I meet over the next few weeks, or months, are people that I can’t commit to. I can’t give them anything more than less than everything. And this experience is different than any other I’ve ever had, because I am incapable of a relationship. Emotionally unavailable. Geographically undesirable.

Things I’ve always hated about a lot of the people I’ve been attracted to. Things I thought I’d never become, because so many of the people I dated fit that mold. Things that I realize I now am.