What I've been up to...
Take the quiz: "Which American City Are You?"
San Francisco
Liberal and proud, you'll live your lifestyle however you choose in the face of all that would supress you.
Other than that:
Yesterday morning I watched this film for my Homocinema class by this French writer, Jean Genet. It was pretty intense. It was a silent film, so it relied solely on its images for its artistic "value". But wow, was it a tour-du-force. Spelling? Anyways, I suggest everyone go out to your nearest film art dealer/university film archive and find Un Chant D'amour. There's this one scene with blowback, the sexiest activity ever. Blowback, for those of you who don't know, is when someone blows smoke into someone elses mouth. I love the idea of breathing in someone elses breath, but with smoke, suddenly the breath is materialized, and you can see yourself taking someone in. Almost a selfshattering. It's quite amazing.
Anyways, midway through the film, my professor joined me, Prof. DA Miller. If you don't know who he is, google him. What Oprah is to self-help, Miller is to Hitchcock, Fellini, Jane Austin, and homosexuality. He had sex with Foucault. Come on! Foucault. Anyways, I think he asked me out to lunch. After the film, he started walking with me and asking where there was a good place to eat. I saw where this was leading, and I told him that I'd just have to see him in class because I had to go to the computer lab. I got really nervous. I have this ongoing fantasy, where we are lying in bed, postcoital, and he's smoking a Cuban. He's mumbling something about great sex--never had sex like that since Foucault...something like that--when he puts his cigar out on my chest. It's masochistically orgasmic. But that actual thought of having a meal with him, that's too much.
Last night I went out to the city with Cris and Jessica. It was pretty fun. I finished rehearsal for this directing scene early, so I really wanted to do something. I hadn't been out partying since the break-up really, and I haven't been to the city since I had gotten back from Europe, which is almost five months now. That's ridiculous. Cris, Jess, and I first tried to go into the Mint, a karaoke bar, but we couldn't get in. I mean, we did, but Cris and Jess looked overly conspicuous, so they carded us. I'm 21, but they are not. I sang Jealousy to Andy on my birthday at the Mint. I thought of recording me singing jealousy to Andy with Peter or Taylen playing guitar for our anniversary. I wasn't able to assemble it in time. Oh well.
After our failed attempt at the Mint, we went to Lime for some food and drink. They loved it. Who doesn't? Everyone loves Lime. They don't card, they have cute food, mini televisions, urinals with cleverly placed mirrors. It's decadance at its best. Cris described it as Clockwork Orange meets TWA. I agree with that. After I finished my Mojito (and Jessica's) we went to get gelato on Castro. We stopped at a few book stores, and I bought the new Madonna and a book for Andy. I hate how I think about him so much. We got back into Berkeley around 11:30. Not bad, I must say. I always dread the thought of hitting traffic. I need to go dancing soon.
This afternoon I had a mini-date with a new friend, Alex. It was laid back. He was recently dumped, like me...although he's a little more fresh in the process. It was evident he had been crying a lot. We commiserated about being heartbroken, dumped, having bad allergies, sinus infections (which can be tied to either or both crying too much and/or allergies), and talked about DA Miller and films. He's a cool kid, kind of flakey, but definitely chill.
When I got home, I had three hours to kill, so I checked what was 'On Demand.' Luckily for me, Singin' in the Rain was on. I had never seen it. Can I please add this magnificent film to my favorite movies list now?! OMG, Gene Kelley. So hot right now! So fucking hot. Can I tell you how hot?! Next on rental list, An American in Paris.
The End.
San Francisco
Liberal and proud, you'll live your lifestyle however you choose in the face of all that would supress you.
Other than that:
Yesterday morning I watched this film for my Homocinema class by this French writer, Jean Genet. It was pretty intense. It was a silent film, so it relied solely on its images for its artistic "value". But wow, was it a tour-du-force. Spelling? Anyways, I suggest everyone go out to your nearest film art dealer/university film archive and find Un Chant D'amour. There's this one scene with blowback, the sexiest activity ever. Blowback, for those of you who don't know, is when someone blows smoke into someone elses mouth. I love the idea of breathing in someone elses breath, but with smoke, suddenly the breath is materialized, and you can see yourself taking someone in. Almost a selfshattering. It's quite amazing.
Anyways, midway through the film, my professor joined me, Prof. DA Miller. If you don't know who he is, google him. What Oprah is to self-help, Miller is to Hitchcock, Fellini, Jane Austin, and homosexuality. He had sex with Foucault. Come on! Foucault. Anyways, I think he asked me out to lunch. After the film, he started walking with me and asking where there was a good place to eat. I saw where this was leading, and I told him that I'd just have to see him in class because I had to go to the computer lab. I got really nervous. I have this ongoing fantasy, where we are lying in bed, postcoital, and he's smoking a Cuban. He's mumbling something about great sex--never had sex like that since Foucault...something like that--when he puts his cigar out on my chest. It's masochistically orgasmic. But that actual thought of having a meal with him, that's too much.
Last night I went out to the city with Cris and Jessica. It was pretty fun. I finished rehearsal for this directing scene early, so I really wanted to do something. I hadn't been out partying since the break-up really, and I haven't been to the city since I had gotten back from Europe, which is almost five months now. That's ridiculous. Cris, Jess, and I first tried to go into the Mint, a karaoke bar, but we couldn't get in. I mean, we did, but Cris and Jess looked overly conspicuous, so they carded us. I'm 21, but they are not. I sang Jealousy to Andy on my birthday at the Mint. I thought of recording me singing jealousy to Andy with Peter or Taylen playing guitar for our anniversary. I wasn't able to assemble it in time. Oh well.
After our failed attempt at the Mint, we went to Lime for some food and drink. They loved it. Who doesn't? Everyone loves Lime. They don't card, they have cute food, mini televisions, urinals with cleverly placed mirrors. It's decadance at its best. Cris described it as Clockwork Orange meets TWA. I agree with that. After I finished my Mojito (and Jessica's) we went to get gelato on Castro. We stopped at a few book stores, and I bought the new Madonna and a book for Andy. I hate how I think about him so much. We got back into Berkeley around 11:30. Not bad, I must say. I always dread the thought of hitting traffic. I need to go dancing soon.
This afternoon I had a mini-date with a new friend, Alex. It was laid back. He was recently dumped, like me...although he's a little more fresh in the process. It was evident he had been crying a lot. We commiserated about being heartbroken, dumped, having bad allergies, sinus infections (which can be tied to either or both crying too much and/or allergies), and talked about DA Miller and films. He's a cool kid, kind of flakey, but definitely chill.
When I got home, I had three hours to kill, so I checked what was 'On Demand.' Luckily for me, Singin' in the Rain was on. I had never seen it. Can I please add this magnificent film to my favorite movies list now?! OMG, Gene Kelley. So hot right now! So fucking hot. Can I tell you how hot?! Next on rental list, An American in Paris.
The End.