Wednesday, July 7, 2004


Math equation: My boyfriend is spending the night out on Long Island with Vox and Mariya. He has told me before that he has a crush on Mariya, that she has perfect breasts and that he enjoys asking girls if he can look at their breasts. (Am I dating a svelter, brunette Big Mike?) If my boyfriend is "A" and Mariya is "B", how long will it take him to ask her to show him her breasts?

QUESTION: What do you all think? Would it be considered rude for a boyfriend to ASK a girl (not his girlfriend) if he can see her breasts? Is it okay for her to show them to him? Would that be considered an act of intimacy?

Complicated theory: Love is a bitter, back-breaking, neck-strangling bitch. I hate myself and everyone who knows me. How do these two items correlate?

True Story:
I rode the subway for the first time in a long time tonight. It sparked grand thoughts of suicide - which I haven't entertained in awhile. (By awhile I mean a few days?) In this scenario, I passed out onto the train tracks. In my fantasy, people are trying to help me up off the tracks as the train is coming, but I'm wriggling away, screaming, "Let me go, assholes!" And I fight them so much, they can't pull me up and I fall back down into the tracks, just as the train arrives. The train's grill meets my face and we kiss and kiss and kiss, into forever and ever.

It was god damn hot down there. I actually really did feel a little faint. I sat down on the ground, very close to the edge of the tracks and dangled my feet out over the little rat's heads. "Hey little rats," I called out to them. They didn't respond or even look up at me. Rude. Typical of "New York City" rhodents, I guess. I looked around the platform at the ugly guys everywhere. This city is so full of hot chicks and tons and tons of ugly, ugly men. Why? It's just no fair.

Abstract Non-sequitor: At the show I did at UCB a few months back, a friend came into the green room and looked me square in the eye. She said, "This whole self-depreciating thing isn't working for you. Get a new schtick." Weird - schtick and ticking time-bomb kind of rhyme.

Family Tie-In: THIS IS WEIRD - My FATHER, THE Mr. Mark Delfino, called me the other day out of the clear blue sky for the first time in about three years. He got evicted from his apartment the SAME MONTH that I DID! Is eviction hereditary? Recessive? Assigned? My father is a very interesting and insane cat - bi-polar and all that shit, manic, funny, crafty, intense. His eyes are two blue pools. He hates the world a whole bunch. He made a guitar out of the ATARI symbol. He had put all his stuff into storage and then he got sick and couldn't pay his bill and all his shit got thrown out, including the Atari guitar, which I was supposed to inherit, stapling my mind shut to the idea that something, anything, one good thing might happen to me someday. He's living in Connecticut now and promises to come and visit me. I can't wait. I'm going to bring him to the Bowery Poetry Club on Show N Tell night and he's going to do something terrific and weird, like crap on the floor and see the future in it or something, but I promise whatever he does, it'll be art, alright.

But of all the things that happened to me today, THIS is beyond all, the most exciting thing that happened all day -

Strange encounter: ED FINKERTON HUMPERDINK - came clean to me. He wrote me a delightful little e-mail telling me who he was, finally, finally, FINALLY! I was QUITE surprised to see it was who it was - It was a guy who I'd met on Craigslist a few months ago when I was looking for a roommate. He moved to NYC recently and has been reading and posting really funny, smart, provocative comments to my blog, but not actually talking or communicating with me in any other way. It's almost crazy, but crazy in the way that is typical of the people I generally enjoy. For months I've been trying to get him to tell me who he is and he just kept skirting the issue. But tonight we actually MET. We went together to see my friend Dan Fishback and others perform at Dixon Place. (Dan was terrific - funny and precious as always) And ya know how sometimes you talk to someone on the phone and you make plans to meet and you are hoping that the person is at least fun, and at best hot and smart, but then they never, ever are? WELL, THIS IS THE WEIRDEST PART: It turns out he was ALL that stuff! He is totally my type - tall, slim, cute-y cute cute, SMART, funny, all around nice guy. A psychology major???!!! Can anyone say YES! YES! YES!??? But he's really too good. He's a southern boy with an accent and EVERYTHING. (He even said he wants to get married someday.)(Sigh, sigh, sigh.)OK, enough of that, Delfino! Anyway, we had a really nice time. We watched the show at Dixon Place and then went and caught Stefon at Bowery Poetry Club (he was awesome) and then finished off the evening with a slice of pizza and an insightful, sarcastic heart to heart chit chat about, ya know, just some stuff.

The weirdest part of it all was that I kept wanting to tell him things and I'd start to say it and then he'd say, "Yeah, I read about that on your blog." It must've happened at least 8 times. He also kept throwing out these little references to me, about ME! Maybe I shouldn't be so balls out open about every aspect of my life. Nah...FUCK THAT. You guys can have it all. The BEST part was that I was feeling really upset about my bf spending the night in Long Island and ED FINKLETON HUMPERDINK really cheered me up. He's alright!

OF COURSE I ran into Nichelle on the walk to the pizza joint. I can't shit on a cupcake without running into that chick. Believe me, I've tried. Three times.

Good night, Ed Finkleton Humperdink. Good night, Dr. Apa. Good night, Jesus. Please make one of my wishes come true soon, Jesus or ask your dad, God if he can do it. Thanks.

No comments: