go to sleep

This is for Ray and Benn, the resident LoveCraftians. So is this, (which is “Garage rockers with DV cameras making a mockumentary about a sixties rock festival in Arkham that goes awry when the hippies open up the Necronomicon instead of the Whole Earth Catalog. With musical accompaniment from the Conqueror Wyrms and the Plasma Miasma”), but the Get your own Disabled Doll most certainly is not and this, is most certainly for me. Someone fly me to Alaska? I’ll race you to the top, you betcha. We could drop by Juneau and have a drink at the bar that automata works at and go oooh at her new tattoo in person. As of March 9th, this artificial ice tower has been built to 151 feet high. My favourite quote, (from the nicely amusing narration), “If I’d ah knowed it were gonna get this high, I would not have been so impressed back when it was not so high.”

OMG penguin *cling* *cling*

65. What would you do if you were walking down the street and saw some hot guys standing on the sidewalk? i say “hey sailors, which way to the gym?” (Is anyone else thinking soccer practice now? oh yeaaaaah.)

Two things planned as placement in tomorrow, opposite end spectrum set and match, bookends with nothing between. I’m leaving the house before the sun rises above the mountains, our buildings to the east, for a downtown rude service breakfast, something for charity, then there’s a late night evening of burlesque. Is anyone interested in kicking around during the day? Or joining me in featherboa glory later on at the Caprice? I’m thinking sandwiches on the seawall, reclaiming that bit of city that we don’t visit as often as we should. I’m thinking I’ll wear a skirt, to get that particular swish when gravity hits me in the chest, pulls at my arms holding the chains of the second beach swing-set.

Today I’ve been collecting a rag-tag band of linkery. There’s an advert for a glittery pyro job in Vegas, for example, (I swear, I’m never going to get to use my pyrotech tickets for anything fun here,) and more unsurprising claims to the fall of empire. My only question is “why has it taken so long for this to be news?” It’s only like the last call before the bar closes.

awooah aie kai aye


IrishHeart Photography
Originally uploaded by foxtongue2.

The pictures are starting to come in from Monday. They’re giving me the idea that maybe it’s okay to wear shorter skirts, but certainly not anything like the one I borrowed off Jenn. Black hooker chic, that one is. I think I’ll stick to me own aesthetic. This Saturday SinCity is her Stagette. If there’s a month to come out, this will be it. Arrive before ten. Should be serious fun, though I suspect that the girls will be tailing me, not knowing what to do.

Dreaming time, sweeping wide angle image of youth moments. I’m finally reading Cages by Dave McKean, the book Michel sent me. I’ve never read anything like it. I think the next time anyone uses the word ratatouille in my presence, I’m going to burst out laughing. It makes me grin until I notice my cheeks are cracking. The artistry is obscene, the lines and swirls of carved figures creating life from simple strokes of a pen, a pencil. I’m in awe of it while it makes me laugh. This is a little what love feels like, I think, without the fervour. There’s no involving passion, but so much appreciation.

Tomorrow I’m to meet Matthew at the Elbow Room for a 6 a.m. breakfast. I suspect I might simply stay up the night. He put me to bed last night with few hours before dawn, I could do it. I’m recovered from my earlier the-sound-ice-makes crush of souls skin. I’m free again to be brave. Anne Sexton has left the building. The word discretion doesn’t belong properly with the word partnership, so I’ll leave it at lover and dance with the word melting on my tongue and let it be enough for me.