You Should Hear How She Talks About You

[Alive. Yes. OK. Poverty, illness, lack of internet connection at home, blistering ennui...these are my reasons. Whether they're excuses depends, as always, on you.]

[My mother called me from Bend, Oregon, yesterday. She says the High Desert Museum there is one of the finest she's ever seen. (This from the woman whose last museum experience was Copenhagen's sex museum.) So, what are you waiting for?]

[Melissa Manchester at the Friendly Neighborhood Cabaret a couple of weeks ago was exactly what you'd expect. I couldn't help but think of the anorexic beauty queen in Drop Dead Gorgeous when Melissa trotted out "Don't Cry Out Loud." Still, she sold out both nights, tacky leather blazer or no tacky leather blazer.]

[My bedridden state has lasted a week. It's icky, you don't want to know. No job-hunting, no shifts at the FNC, no fab city living. I sit here at the Corner WWW Cafe, thinking it's about time to drop in at one of this great city's no-cost/low-cost clinics. That would be to admit that this malady isn't just going away by itself, and also to admit how poor I really am, and denial is so much more satisfying.]

[Until you're writhing around on your bathroom floor, just wanting it to stop. OK, OK, I'm going.]

Previously Next