My mourning period for Ron Odyssey has concluded, and now I'm just happy to have known someone like that and have such great memories. I'd like to offer sincere thanks to everyone who sent condolences--they were much appreciated. [Follow-up thought excised.] One thing that came out of the grieving process was that I scanned in a lot of pix, both of Ron and of the time. Since I was scanning lots of pix anyway, I thought I'd scan some non-Ron ones, and one of those is the pic leading today's blog entry. That's me at 14 years old! Wasn't I cute?? I added a lot of new pix to my flickr, including the pic of me, Stephen Guarino and Mark Baratelli at Halloween 1996, some pix of Jasmine Simone E'Mon Buvage Monét (yes, she really does exist, and that's the correct spelling), and a WAY old pic of me and Lisa Diamonds taken in 1993. Oh, and another thing that came out of this--I discovered that Tavares has a moblog! I found it when his entry about the whole thing came up in a search. Who knew!
And now for some good news: my sister is getting married! Yes, if you'd known her back in the day, you would think this would never happen. So I'm happy for her about that.
OK let's see... what were the weekend blips? Well, Paulie's been in town! We hung out some on Friday night, drinking at some sports bar(!) in the West Village(!!!). It was cool. I played him a song from the upcoming CD, and he had the reaction I expected. Then we went to a nearby bar and heard the new Mariah Carey song--"it's like tha-tha-tha-tha-tha-tha that, y'all." She's really not getting ghetto enough yet. But it will come. Then Saturday my friend Melissa took me to Dos Caminos, an excellent Mexican restaurant on 26th & Park. I have to say, that place is the bizzomb, or whatever the contemporary equivalent to 'the bizzomb' is. Firstly the place looks like a theme park, and I mean that in the good way. Secondly, the food is awesome, especially the guacamole, which is really fresh. I had the seafood ceviche with rice & beans on the side and a prickly pear margarita. The pp margarita has an interesting flavor, with a dark chocolate nuance. Then we shared a banana split for dessert and I had some coffee. It was coolzbot. After that she went to study and I went to B&N and read some cool book about 'an authentic life' or something-or-other. I've noticed that a lot of books lately talk about peoples' desire for fame: is this because celebrity culture has reached its apotheosis, or has it always been this way? Anyway, after I was done there, there was really nothing else to do for the rest of the day, as there were monsoonlike rains, so I just went home.
Sunday I hung out with Paulie, showing up an hour late because I hadn't reset my watch. We were supposed to see Sin City, but we couldn't find a theater that wasn't sold out, so we ended up going to the Big Cup and reading the Times, since he had to meet someone there later. It's been almost a year since I've actually been in the BC and sat down, so I wasn't exactly eager to break my streak, but I went anyway. And it hasn't changed one damn bit. Maybe the bathrooms are even more disgustingly filthy, though. Anyway, so Paulie and I are sitting there, and at some point we start joking about something, and we end with this thing I say that's making fun of a particular person I used to be vaguely acquainted with. Of course, right as we're laughing the person across the table said something like, Please stop making fun of my country in a sour voice. Apparently this assface thought that we were making fun of "Great Britain" because I used an exaggerated Irish accent. I was so stunned by the sheer stupidity of his comment that I just did not know what to say. I honestly thought he must've been joking or flirting with one of us or something. Cux we hadn't mentioned anything about "his country" per se. Had I had more presence of mind about what was going on, I would have told him to go fuck his sanctimonious self. Anyway, that incident immediately brought back everything I hate about the Big Cup, Chelsea, 8th avenue, all that shit, and it convinced me that staying away was the best thing I could possibly do for myself. So I'm trying for another year of not crossing that threshhold! I left shortly thereafter, and I felt like I needed an existential shower. The Big Cup is truly the gay cancer.
So I got home just in time for Intervention on A&E. I expected a great show, and that's what I got! Frankly, I didn't find it exploitative at all. Moreover, I don't really think that there's any kind of bait & switch going on there---see, they tell you that the person they're focusing on thinks they're being filmed for a documentary about addiction, but really the intention is to film an intervention. I don't really think there's any disconnect--an intervention fits in perfectly in the context of a documentary on addiction. I don't think the people being filmed would understand it the same. Anyway, in this particular episode, the intervention itself wasn't all that interesting. The family is from Minnesota, so they're not exactly explosive. The more interesting part was the stuff leading up to it, where her story is basically told. So to recap, I think it's a great show. I only wish it were available on demand.
And that's the beep for now, gbeepners.