Oh, look who's getting cultured.

Films of the Week:

Monday, Exit Through the Gift Shop with Maggie and Joe (consensus: 3 out of 5 stars)

Wednesday, Domaine at Walter Reade with Veronica (consensus: we loved it)

I much prefer Béatrice Dalle in Domaine than in Betty Blue. Major, major crush.


Book of the Week:

After some post-Alice Munro depression, I became absorbed in Eileen Myles' Inferno (a poet's novel)

Music of the Week:

Milkymee soundtrack from Domaine

Long-term crush on New York

Last night Joe and I saw Part Two of Angels in America. After thoroughly enjoying Part One, we weren't prepared for new actors to play some of the roles, but once we adjusted to the change, we felt that Part Two was also outstanding.

After the play, I impulsively stopped at a pretzel cart near Port Authority. The air felt celebratory: an amazing play, a day with temperatures in the sixties (I wore sandals!). I don't remember the last time I ate a street vendor pretzel. We weren't more than two bites into our treat when the pretzel flew out of our grasp and painted the sidewalk mustard yellow.

Drunk pedestrians stumbled by, kicking our pretzel this way and that. In truth, the pretzel was stale and my nostalgia had been satisfied by those first bites. Now the pretzel belongs to the pigeons.

Everyday I am amazed by this city.

A new group of angels

Last night Joseph and I saw Part One of Angels in America at Signature Theater. Although I've been told that I saw the play when I was much younger, I only remember the HBO series, which I've watched several times. Before last night, I worried that the theater production wouldn't live up to the series, that my imagination would be unable to accommodate a new cast. I was thrilled with the production. The show benefited from a new interpretation. I feel tremendously lucky to have the opportunity to see Angels in America live, celebrating the twentieth anniversary of Tony Kushner's classic. Many of the play's central themes remain relevant today.

Coast to coast

On the way to the Bay Area,


Joe and I entertained ourselves


in our usual fashion.


Thanksgiving morning, we walked around Lake Merritt in Oakland.


The food was super yummy for Thanksgiving dinner.


Rui-Bing broke it down before we stuffed ourselves.


Hungry (and thankful) guests.


Everyone made delicious dishes except me. (I was Joe and Rui-Bing's helper.)


Sandra and Rui-Bing (on left) were gracious and lovely hosts.


In the morning, Joe and I visited the Pork Store in the Lower Haight.


It was as greasy and delicious as I'd remembered.


We walked around the Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Park.


In the afternoon we hit up Dolores Park Cafe for hot chicken sandwiches and lattes.


Later we had chocolate pudding and other divine sweets at Tartine.


The next day Joe fell in love with the Indian Pizza at Zante.


We topped it off with ice cream at Mitchell's. They no longer sell Thai iced tea ice cream, so I got macapuno (sweet coconut) and avocado. Joe got Mexican chocolate and pumpkin.


We met up with an old friend of mine, Carmen to visit Folsom leather stores. She tried out the swing at Mister S.


While visiting San Francisco, Joe and I took in two films, Prince of Broadway at the Roxie, where the director answered questions after the screening. We also saw Guess Who's Coming to Dinner at the Castro, which was heavenly. After the movie ended, the organist played the theme song.

We also took in an Aikido class in Oakland because an old friend of mine attends the dojo. It was Joe's first Aikido class. He's a natural!


Our trip wouldn't be complete without visiting Taqueria Can-Cun one final time.

What I learned: Some things never change. The food in the Bay Area is still dependable and amazing. The air is fresh and San Francisco is a beautiful city. I'm glad to have visited and to have the opportunity to show Joseph around my old stomping ground.

Going away reaffirmed my love of New York.

Another youth bullied to death

Brandon Bitner was fourteen-years old.

If you haven’t already, please consider donating to The Trevor Project.

Recently I learned that people who commit suicide don’t necessarily want to end their lives, they want the pain to stop. We can prevent suicides. We can listen; we can be present and aware of others.

Many of us have relationships with teenagers. Today I will write a letter to some of my past high school students to ask them to stand up to bullying.

We need to insist on safety, support, and the right to be freaky and fabulous.

It gets better when we make it better.

These stories of bullying are happening right now. This is happening to youth right now. I'm not okay with that.

Pee-Wee's Big (Halloween) Adventure

As a legalizing-our-partnership gift, my parents bought Joe and me discount tickets to see The Pee-Wee Herman Show on Broadway on Halloween.


Many people dressed up as the cast of characters and I regretted my choice not to do so. In college, I was Pee-Wee for Drag Ball one year, and with my new haircut, I think I could have pulled it off.


The set was breathtaking, but there was a ton of security, so Joe was only able to sneak a couple of pictures before the show began. Once the curtain went up, it felt like we were in the Playhouse. I never wanted the FUN (secret word) to end!


After the show, Pee-Wee came out on the street to say hi to his fans.


Cowboy Curtis signed autographs.


I usually don't enjoy Halloween, but this was a bit of a religious experience.


He's back and he's sensational!


I love how in New York, being a fan is an immersive experience.

We need good things.

Out on the town with a mentor from graduate school this afternoon. It helps to have someone to talk to who has been in the literary scene and can answer my questions. Her forecast for literary fiction is bleak, but her company tipped the balance to make my day a positive one.

A perfect day to walk down from the Upper West Side to visit Joe at work. We made evening plans to continue creating our graphic novel.

Inspired by the It Gets Better project, I've decided to begin training to volunteer at a suicide hotline in New York. Winter is coming and I can imagine New York is going to need all hands on deck.

We can get through.

Please watch and share this powerful and moving video for the "It Gets Better" project by Fort Worth City Councilman Joel Burns.

Happy Coming Out Day!

In honor of Coming Out Day, here are four links to my favorite "It Gets Better" videos in response to the recent LGBT suicides:

-The survivor, Mark Snyder

-The fierce and fabulous Kate Bornstein

-The actor, BD Wong

-An honest and articulate video by Dave Holmes


(Photo from San Francisco, summer of 2005)

The best, hardest work

(Almost) everyday I encounter inspiring people. The more open I am to seeing it, the more my own questions are answered. At the ACT UP reading, many of the readers spoke about the inevitability of not fitting in as people with AIDS, queer people, artists, and activists. Now that I have a newly structured writing process, I have been feeling that old familiar awkwardness/loneliness creeping into my days. I'm not like other people, but I also crave external approval, which makes things complicated. Penny Arcade said that Quentin Crisp once told her that she is the kind of person who will have to fight for acceptance. I relate to that. This isn't a sob-story, just the opposite. What I'm learning is that I have to seek out similar outsiders. Tonight Joseph and I went to The Strand to hear Vanessa Davis speak with Marjorie Ingall (who was a writer and editor of beloved Sassy!) about her new book. Again, with the inspiration. Davis spoke about how ideally, her stories can put conversations into the world and help her communicate/articulate her experiences. And then there is the support from mentors. Hester wrote to me about the post-publication experience: "Every time is like starting all over again, and we're gripped by this fear that we'll never be able to write anything as good again. I don't think you can wait for the writing bug to bite you. If you want to write, you have to force yourself back into that chair the very next morning, and the one after that. To me, it's mostly about discipline, because it's not fun, it's not always fueled by inspiration. It's just a lot of hard, hard work. But isn't it the best work?"

(I've fallen in love with this picture I found on the Internet.)

Validation for a contrarian

Tonight:

"Writers with HIV/AIDS" Reading Series
Curated by Sarah Schulman of the ACT UP Oral History Project - White Columns.

David Halperin reads Michel Foucault
Jaime Manrique reads Reinaldo Arenas
Jim Eigo reads John Preston
John Weir reads David Feinberg
Marie Howe reads Tory Dent
Terry Rowden reads Steven Corbin
Penny Arcade reads Jack Smith



Another amazing night in New York. If I wanted a different life, I'd be living it.

Approaching publication, status update

For as long as I can remember, I have anticipated my birthday with a mixture of anxiety, stress, and dread. On the one hand, it's a wonderful feeling to be recognized and appreciated. On the other, it comes with unnatural, forced attention, a glaring spotlight, and the kind of exposure that makes me want to hide until it’s over. Being published in The New York Times feels like all of my birthdays combined.

I am a fan of nude beaches, particularly clothing-optional gay beaches like Fire Island, where I can relax knowing all sorts of bodies are celebrated. My essay makes me feel like I’m going to a crowded beach full of swimsuit-wearing supermodels and I’ve decided to get naked.

Clearly, at this point, all I can do is resort to analogies. Let the disassociating-- familiar from birthday parties past-- begin.

Nukah celebrates independence, the gay way

Nukah took his first boat trip on the Fire Island ferry.






We arrived in time for the Invasion.
















Nukah loved running on the beach.




He found and ate a dead crab.




Later in the day, a deer strolled along the beach.


Nukah made friends with a drag queen.






We had a perfect day on Cherry Grove.