Very very very hard day. I got up and went to the gym. I was late to work because I had to go to the salon I went to the day before and I left with their men’s room key. Something is disconnected in me right now. Common sense seems to be a thing I have dis-possessed. Got to work at 9:30 and immediately found out my day would be dominated with four hours of meetings and demos. I didn’t get time to go get my Palm V. I had to cancel lunch with Erik. And I missed another acupuncture appointment. The night before I spent with a designer and a client I’m the go-between for regarding a book cover – we were at a Kinko’s trying to do the last few changes to the design. We crashed two computers trying to get the work done. It was awful. And they had Photoshop 5.5 which really sucked ass in my opinion. I’m totally biased towards Macromedia because I never learned the Adobe stuff but watching the designer use Photoshop – things seemed really counterintuitive. Maybe Illustrator is better. It was a very very frustrating evening.
Went with Brigitte and Kevin to see With or Without Wings. Laughed even more than when I saw it two weeks ago – Mierka’s timing is impeccable and she had to stop the show a couple of times because the over-sold house was rolling in the aisles. I giggled through the whole show and when I wasn’t laughing I was crying. Had a really good cry. Mierka is such an inspiration – I hope I’m that cool in five years. When Mierka says: ‘And I knew the only place where I could get the arts training I needed was in… Dayton, Ohio’ the audience fell to pieces – so many of us are fellow alumni of Wright State and she imitates at least two characters that many of us knew personally. I just don’t feel like I can go out tonight. The show is too important. I haven’t really stopped moving all week anyway so I’m happy to just have a Friday night alone – even if it is Pride Weekend. But you know what? It’s the same people in the same clubs dancing to the same music… Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Market Days, IML… it’s always the same thing… which if that’s what you’re looking for is fine. It seems all my gay friends have circles of friends that are all gay. I don’t know if that’s a function of them coming out and then moving to Chicago or coming out and losing their current friends that couldn’t deal with it. I find I resist that Big Gay Life at times. But I resist the Big Straight Life as well. Walking around Lincoln Park and everyone is packed into the bars drinking and carousing and pretending to have a grand time – you can see the same thing in Boystown. Amusing ourselves to death… again I come off as Anti-Fun. It’s my Catholic upbringing checking in again. Pleasure = Bad. Me and my conspicuous depth.
Says the guy that got his chest waxed yesterday. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. It was really funny. I was sorta nervous going into a skin care salon – not the most comfortable place for guys, right? One girl was in because she had some kind of home-waxing debacle that effected peals of laughter when she took the receptionist in the back room to show off her mangled tuft. I told them about Brigitte ripping out her eyelashes when she tried at home eyebrow waxing. The I managed to warm the place up when one of the receptionists was talking about partying in Lake Geneva and going to a strip club and I’m like, ‘Are you talking about the Sugar Shack?’ And suddenly in the den of feminine beauty we’re talking tittybars and lapdances. That was when I had the lapdance that cried. Talk about guilt. Her manager had just bitched her out and she’s wiping her eyes of tears as she’s grinding her thong in my face and I am having a hard time trying to objectify and empathize at the same time. Good racket to get a good tip though. But the smooth chest feels great – who needs asian boys? I’m kidding! I’m kidding!I got it waxed for my photo shoot on Monday. Trying to tame any skin irritations currently. I’ll get bored with it and let it grow out again, I’m sure – I just think it makes my physique look better.
I sorta like the new N Synce single, Dirty Pop. It’s got a good percussion arrangement. The video is pretty slick – these boys are aging better than the Backstreets. I think because Sync realizes the transience of their popularity and keeps things fun and stays away from the ballads. BSB seems intent on boring the shit out people with sappy drippy ballads.
Oh and I can’t go to Popstars auditions – they’re checking IDs so they’ll probably immediately weed me out for being gasp! 26.