left brain

I think HBO is a

I think HBO is a total rip off. I don't care what people say about making sure they have it or whatnot.
It plays the same 5 movies over and over again within a week, which is great if you miss it the first time but not if you have seen it and want to see something else. I understand that great shows are or were on HBO (Sex and the City, Six Feet Under, The Soprano's, Entourage) but when you are not watching them and want to watch something on the five or six channels that now come with HBO, it is pretty rough sailing. In either case, I saw Mona Lisa Smile today. It was like a female Dead Poet's Society.
People seem to badmouth this movie for some reason but I actually thought it was interesting, well-acted, and entertaining. Even though I think Julia Roberts has a horse's mouth, she can act pretty damn well and this was one of the movies in which she does. Marcia Gay Harden, Juliet Stevenson, even Julia Stiles were all great. Also, it had a whole bunch of fun art moments. Like a crate arriving in NYC and the cover dramatically falling down revealing a huge Jackson Pollock. But the idea that a free thinking professor from UCLA who comes to conservative Massachusetts Wellesly to teach but also to question societal roles warms my heart. Haha.

New To Me

I have become addicted to blogging this week. To writing on mine. To posting on others. To searching for more. Its like a writing addiction instead of my painting addiction. Which I need to get psyched about. Or whatever you might want to call it. However in my searching I discovered something totally new. I guess we could call it the video blog. I haven't really seen it before even with my many years of internet addiction but I also honestly don't want to see anymore. I am sure that there are more than this guy's (http://www.geekslut.org/ ) but as I said, I don't care. Even though this guy is hot, and his blog is a little startling, his ideas on how gay's change the world is interesting. But, I would recommend the quicktime video for it. Since, it seems to be his thing. Look at others too. Even though his blog is startling, as I said, the video's are interesting. So, anyway yah.

My Saturday night to this point has been spent making some Mexican food (Mm, chicken fajita's with mexican rice and some corn and a salad, drinking wine (some white I stole from the party last night, it is shit, I guess that is what I get) as I cook, and then sitting back to watch a very old (83, two years after my birth) Almodovar movie. Dark Habits. It was a little weird, especially for him. The humor in it was hysterically twisted. However, he really is an amazing director. I find him totally inspiriring as an artist.

My Friday Night

To check out pics from my Friday night. My housewarming party so to speak followed by some typical South End Party. You don't need pics of it to get the idea. But, if you want some of the housewarming party... Click here: http://frank.blogs.com/photos/party_photos/index.html

Phelps.

This is hysterical.
If you know who Phelps is or watched the Olympics ... you must go here. Now. It is where I got it from and I feel like I should provide credit and/or royalties. Plus the blogger is pretty cute.

http://groeg.blogspot.com/2004/09/it-has-to-be-said.html

Neophilia

Arist Monica Bonvicini will participate in a panel discussion at Art Forum Berlin, the giant art fair, next week. Her co-panelists: gallerist Joe Amrhein, and collectors Harald Falckenberg and Mera & Don Rubell. The moderator is Marc Spiegler, an srt writer who made this sort of trouble at Basel, too.

The Topic: "Bigger! Faster! Out of control! Does today's Art Market devour Artists?"

From the description: "Since the early 1990s, the art market has been rocked by change. There are many more collectors today, buying more aggressively. The role of the gallery is being radically transformed (and even threatened) by the surging number of fairs, biennials and contemporary auctions. Artists are treated like popstars and their audience often suffers from Neophilia, a constant craving for the new...Is this a permanent transformation or just a 'Live Fast, Die Young' phenomenon, dooming us for a crash and destined to yield only ephemeral art?"

Be sure to bring a pen (to jot down the names of hot new artists) and your checkbook.

ArtBasel : http://www.artbasel.com/ca/bt/kg/

RNC Thugz

More on my political ranting since clearly it amuses some.  This is a link I came across about the RNC in NYC.  It is pretty funny.  I love how this country is so on the fence about thinking our president is a stealing lieing moron but he is still at an approval rating of 48% or whatever it is.  Lovely. 

http://in8.com/fucknewyork/Resources/fucknewyork.mov

Disgusting

This is horrifying and I didn't realize this before.
Just another fucked up moment about this country.
If it isn't obvious. Read the newsarticles. But to get your attention.
The podium looks like a cross. And, we also need a little podium to look like a cross, also.
However, the gavel is to the left of Jesus. Not the right. Hm, weird.

http://www.reuters.com/newsArticle.jhtml?type=politicsNews&storyID=6128807&pageNumber=0

To Vote:

After work I decided to do a little grocery shopping. Enough to carry home but also just enough to hold comfortably while I voted. Today was a primary, I guess. And, after three attempts to vote, I failed. Or actually I think the system has failed. The voting process along with the democratic process has failed. So, the story is: I headed to the first voting place where I was 100% sure I was supposed to show up. They tell me my address is across the street. I walk across the street for them to say, after calling the Election Committee, that I need to go someplace else because I live on an "even" side of the street. So, I head to the address they wrote down on my piece of paper with where to go and vote for my precinct. Turns out, I walk there, without thinking to the last minute that I am walking to my old apartment. This woman and the Election Committee sent me to vote at my old apartment. Lol. What a joke. I actually think that I did pretty well. I tried a SECOND time to vote after being turned down once. So, I have come to the conclusion that you need to be white, in a particular neighborhood, over 30, and make more in a salary than I do. More zero's in your salary and you get to vote. Welcome to America! Socialism anyone?

9-11-04 NYC

Pulling off the Henry Hudson Highway into the city.   Yes, the city.  There IS NO other like it anywhere in the world.  New York is New York.  It is THE city.   Once we find a parking space after driving around the Upper West Side for a little, Jerry and I head into his new apartment.  Where I have to piss so bad I can taste it (hence Jerry's low blow joke).  The Upper West on 70th Street is like a whole new neighborhood bustling with its own character and excitement.  Walking around it before dinner just shows you how much more exciting of a city it truly is.  After a cosmo, in celebration of the UpperWest and Sex and the City, we head to our first fantastic dinner.  Compass.  One of the top 50 restaurants in Manhattan.  (After Ouest, our second dinner, I have now been to six of the great NYC restaurants).  Not to sound conceited but I think that sounds awesome. 

The next morning was spent doing the little fixer upper things I came to do.  Blinds, hanging art, etc etc.  Some high end grocery store that was to dream for.  After a couch delivery we headed to lunch further up on 77th street, before heading across town to Barney's, Diesel, and Bloomingdales before a hop back across town before a movie.  Since Jerry is right near Lincoln Center, we were able to easily see a movie that probably will not make it much farther than NYC or LA in this country.  It was called Reconstruction.  It was in one word, great.  It was a movie about  how fucked up people really are and how most don't understand their emotions.  Then add in cheating, heartbreak and well you get the idea.  I'd say go see it but you know the story.  Dinner was an old New York restaurant that sat you in these deep red leather club seats and then tried to give you one of those old cocktails.  Like, a regular (with an olive) martini, or a sidecar, or a Gin/Tonic.  Ha, all of which are great, but for NYC, they need to get with the times.  Anyway, the meal was great and the people in the restaurant were beautiful.  For at least 20 minutes of the meal I thought I was sitting next to Charlotte, haha.  Turns out it was a look alike.  Stepping outside onto the city street on this day of rememberance (9-11) in New York City.  There was only one place to look.  Up.  The twin beams of light were at it again and it was breathtaking. 
They are such a great piece of art meets memorial.  A stroll home after midnight leaves me with the feeling that it really is time to move on.  A random (any) street in just the Upper West Side had more people than I have seen walking on any main street in Boston after midnight.  That is just depressing.  The amount of people, anytime, in NYC (I know this might sound dumb) but is just sooooo fucking noticeable.  There is quite literally nothing but people and food.  And, any food.  Your little local newspaper stand (one of I am sure thousands) sells any fruit you could possibly imagine.  Kiwis, blueberries, strawberrys, watermelon.  You want it, it is here.

Sunday was a day spent on nothing.  We ate brunch in the West Village/Chelsea at some adorable little gay place and then went into Soho for some shopping.  My beautiful boy wasn't working at Lounge.  And there is a new Bloomie's downtown!  More beautiful boys were here, not to mention, everywhere else.  Jerry said I should come up with a business card, bright and colorful, that says, "You are Dreamy.  Call Me."  The thing about this is that I actually think it possibly could work.  Anyone would feel special if someone else thought they were cute no matter who it is.  So, getting a little card saying it might improve my chances of finding that dreamy boyfriend.  Haha.  Well I eventually lost count of how many hot as hell dreamy boys there were this weekend but it was well over 30. 

And, I guess, the theme of NYC is...  You want it.  It is here.

A Birthday Party

After a Buddhist moment of driving through Financial District traffic with Tom at rush hour when I was saying be calm and he was in such a rage he couldn't see straight, we find a parking spot across the street from where we were going.  And..to fully give the Buddhist moment..it was a broken meter!  Woo!  So, we headed into a building that was technically, as we found out, in the Leather District.  And, as we ride up in this unbelievably trendy huge elevator (Which seemed to bring cattle up to different floors to be sold, as Carl says, "Well, the cattle certainly wouldn't be scared with how fast this thing moves."), we find out we are totally wrong.  It was a fur storage building in the early 1900's.  Cool, huh?  You should have seen this place.  It was like out of Tribeca or some movie.  It made me feel like I was in a real city, though, I guess not LA since it actually felt like a city.  Anyway, as we push open this huge wooden door, we enter a room with the beat of ultra-hip (Berlin Lounge, Hi-Fidelity, ChillOut) music pumping.  It is Williams Birthday after all.  We then go on for the next 4 hours being stuffed with delicious food and spectacular wines.  Kim's place was fabulous, in one word.  From the rugs to the art hanging everywhere to the shelves of great literary works.  To the wine closet.  To the exposed mechanical thingies. 

Following a doobie on stairs across from South Station, we move upstairs to see the icing (shall we say) on the cake.  A stripper dressed up as a Boston cop.  Haha.
He was muscularly huge but not down there.  Damn.  Anyway, it was my first experience with a stripper in a household setting.  And, it was amusing, though he wasn't particularly my type.  But it was funny that he even had this straight girl or something fluff him in the bathroom.  Though, this boy Adam who supposedly Tom met in Montreal is a hottie. (www.gerace.com) For more, go to Tom's website.

But, I guess at the end, after celebrating a big birthday for someone.  It made me feel depressed (and the stripper made me quickly run home to porn).  I do think that William is incredibly happy, but I dunno, I always find birthdays depressing.  It is like you are getting older.  Ha, well, not like... you are getting older.  And I guess wiser but really?  I felt like I knew everything at 19 and I still feel like I know everything at 23 but I guess I learned some along the way.  It was also noticeable that I have moved on in my life.  Just from hanging with these people at the party.  It felt like my old life somehow.  Or maybe not old like but the life I have created for myself.  Things like boys and sex and stupid teen moments just seem so far out of my mind.  A birthday party with great conversation, wine, fabulous food, and just a fun non-obnoxious gay time. Hanging around Tom and Carl and that whole 19yo part of me no longer feels incredibly painful.  Tom with other boys no longer bothers me.  Our friendship actually feels better than our relationship.  Sorta.  Is that possible?