A Very Happy Life

You know that scene from Sex and the City in the end of Season 4 when Samantha is hosting that party on her roof for the neighborhood trannies,and Carrie wears those god awful booty shorts (that the trannies love, of course.) There's those caged chickens across from Carrie's bedroom window that keep waking her up so she has them sent away. At the end of the episode, that song is playing and all the ladies (chicks and chix with dix) are up on the roof laughing and eating their wieners and dancing around. Carrie as narrator says, when remembering the chickens, "I hope they have a very happy life." And Alexa is crying because it is all so happy, the music and the ladies and the chickens.

I think about that scene a lot. Cause, y'know, I'm packing a lot of heat beneath my leggings. A lot o' heat.

TRANNIES 4 EVA!

Because, in spite of the tears and exhaustion and uncertainty and sometimes loneliness, I have a very happy life.

A very happy, very busy life.

Friday: Work, Hootenany, Dance Band at the Hex
Saturday: Work, Bowling and Jigging and booze laced Shamrock shakes
Sunday: Work, Fringe rehearsal, P.O.S. at First Ave
Monday: Work, laundry (I'll finally wash my sheets, Mom!), block staged reading
Tuesday: Work, Cloud Cult at Electric Fetus, getting fucked up in the car, The Roots at First Ave
Wednesday: Sleep off a hang-over, Neil Diamond cover band with Taco
Thursday: Work, Staged Reading rehearsal
Friday: Work, Hootenany, some music somewhere
Saturday: Staged Reading rehearsal, revive my exhausted corpse with an hour of lit erotica and a bazillion gallons of that special Cliqout Club coffee drink
Sunday: Staged Reading rehearsal, Fringe rehearsal, James Hunter at The Fine Line
Monday: Staged Reading performance

Tuesday, I finally fall sleep for real and never wake up. Buttplug, you can take Rufus and Cornelius. Morgie, you can take 80's monkey. Badonks, you can take Carmine. Little Lamb, you can have Pretzel. Roomsie, you can have Weenie Pup. Taco, you can take Corky. Frenchie, the glorified dog toy, is to be sent home to Fanny so she can play with the squeak. I am to be buried with Kitty Cat Blanket and Sonny. I expect you all to take very good care of my stuffed animal family. Treat them as you would treat me, expect less urine. Oh yeah, Shaly, you can have my camera and my collection of lingerie (a kickass corset and one frilly heart number, with matching thong.)

Last night, after getting lost downtown, scammed in the parking lot & fucked up on the corner, George and I stood in back of the crowd at First Ave for TV on the Radio. Our eyes were closed for much of the show and we danced in our spots, with ourselves, swaying and jumping back and forth as they rocked out on stage. A friend offered me the ticket. I have two of their albums but never was a huge fan, though Staring at the Sun is one of my all time favorite songs to exercise to. So I said yes, I'll go, because rarely will I say no, I should stay home and get caught up on my sleep so I don't go into cardiac arrest. Like George said, they actually rocked out harder than I thought this band possible. And of course they played Staring at the Sun. It was the final song, a clubbed out version that had me mentally (and sort of actually) running in place. I was seriously moving my arms back and forth as if I was running faster than ever before. That's called dancing, kids. Jonesie style.

Tonight, I ate. An amazing Thai seafood soup and figs with chocolate covered almonds for dessert. Will and Ariel (a couple Holway Chipmunk knows through Zenon Dance) have this Cedar Riverside apartment that is huge, beautiful and totally one of my happy places. Knick-Knacks from around the world, corner to corner. Chipmunk and Little Lamb and I sat and ate this feast. Tonight, I sang. Ariel, after performing a few Lily Allen numbers as Will backed on the guitar, stuck in the karaoke CD. We stood up to the mic and sang Sonny & Cher and a little Janis and I put the words from Born to Run in when I couldn't remember the actual lyrics. Tonight, I bathed a hedgehog named Petunia. She's their pet. And she's the happiest hedgehog in the entire world. Will brought her out and started to bathe her (to make her poop, naturally) and then let me finish (not pooping, bathing.) Petunia would stick her little snout out and wiggle her raisin nose as the water ran down her spikes. Anna came in and laughed because I was down on the bathroom floor in this beautiful Cedar Riverside apartment, kneeling over a tub, showering a hedgehog with a hose. It was insane and it was awesome. Will and Ariel are this crazy, talented, loving couple who are totally eccentric. And god knows I love that.

If you don't think that Petunia is the cutest fucking thing in the world, there is something horribly wrong with you.






Little Lamb thinks she's awfully cute.

Ariel in their home dance studio, dressed in her Bondage (Modern Dance costume, same diff)






The Dancers Dance


And the Crazy Loves


A Very Happy Life!