Category: Uncategorized

Has anyone noticed that the news headlines lately have been remarkably close to headlines from the first five minutes of science fiction films about the end of the world? There’s also a kind of obviousness about the approaching global environmental catastrophe that reminds me of the moment when the little girl coughs in any 1930’s movie–you know it immediately. “She’s going to die of TB before the movie’s over,” I’d whisper to you in the next seat, in the dark.

The guy below has a new boyfriend. This one doesn’t make much noise, but he’s a carbon copy of the last one. There’s a strange noise coming from their bathroom, like something heavy being dragged across the floor and tossed into the tub… shhhhhhh–PLONK….. shhhhhhh–PLONK….. shhhhhhh–PLONK….. The house is vibrating. BC and I did a google search of the sounds from the goings-on with the last boyfriend and concluded that they were doing something called a “booty bump,” involving drugs and getting butts above heads. Maybe I should give them a pet gerbil. More breaking news as the investigation continues…

Drown your sorrows in wet fur! Wash your mind and body with me and Big Chris! Let me give you a salt rub in the steam room! Let’s sweat out our impurities together in the dry sauna! Let’s imitate cardiac arrest in the cold plunge! Get all relaxed for your boogie-ing later on:

6:00 tonight at Kabuki Hot Springs, come soak with us and be our love!

I didn’t just have a facial–I had one of the greatest 2-hour experiences of my LIFE!!–a facial with Mirsada! Mirsada surrounded me with a bamboo face hut and steamed my pores for about 1/2 an hour, while massaging my feet, then manually opened every single pore on my face and scooped out at least 2 pounds of stuff. You would not believe the intrigue involved in securing her top secret peel. I am beautiful. My pores are singing. My face is actually lighter. Several times she would shriek, “You have to see this, you have to see this, oh my god, you are going to love me, look, just look at this!!!” and then hold up the mirror to show me all the white and black heads that she was massaging to the surface and scooping away.

Mirsada and I go way back, when she was the housekeeper and I the gardener on a California Street penthouse. I made a little herb garden for her, and she would make lunch for me. We talked of love, her home in Bosnia, food. She then became my housekeeper. On her first day, she spent 8 hours just in the kitchen. When I came home she was slumped exhaustedly on a chair, but jumped up and excitedly exclaimed, “Whatever Mirsada’s hand touch–CLEAN!!” The backs of drawers were cleaned. Her thoroughness and love of work extends into her work as an aesthetician. She became so enamored of my and Bob’s home that after we broke up she quit cleaning. She came down into my studio crying and said, “When you and Bob talk, it is ART, your life is art… You and your hairy men, it is not art, it won’t last, and you, you are nothing.”

So it’s been a while since I’ve seen her, but now she’s created a little paradise on Post Street. You walk down a long dark hallway, and on opening the door to her salon, pass into a kind of heaven, with lovely sunlight streaming into a dazzling white room with orchids and candles placed artistically around a waiting area that is the single most pleasant space in San Francisco, the only tension from the perfection in the Feng Shui balance that she’s so marvelously achieved.

If you ever ever want a facial, do not see anyone else. See Mirsada:

Mirsada’s Skin Care at Spa Seven
1255 Post Street at Van Ness, Suite 493
(415) 756-7878

Say that I sent you and get a 20% discount!!

I think I prefer Oligarchy to Democracy in the Middle East. Didn’t Bush watch Star Trek?

JT Leroy’s unmasking (de-wigging?) has made it to the New York Times. Someday I’ll write an entry about all the duped literati who stayed at my house while trying to cozy up to this gifted charlatan.

Four Things that I’m Thinking Right Now That Have Nothing to Do With Anything or Each Other or the Four Things Meme
1. It’s “Fahoo forays, Dahoo dorays.”
2. Reese got mad at his mom the other day because she told him that she doesn’t believe in Santa Claus.
3. I used to click my teeth together to play My Favorite Things in my mouth in the style of Dave Brubeck.
4. Interiors are like handwriting, and for those who know how to decipher the mishaps of furniture meeting form, many secrets are revealed…. Horrifying Gay Amateur Interiors: GayDigs.com

Yes, I shaved my beard. My drag name is Anne Hysteric, remember? I did leave a little soul patch, something for you fetishists to brush against. I want to be fat and have a beard make sense. What am I now, a daddy cub? A graying mongoose? Only 5 more days of my 30’s left. Only 5 more days to write the novel, discover a cure, finish my doctoral dissertation, turn the Met down for my retrospective, and read that article on Edward Albee in the New Yorker.

I’m cookoo for Cocopuff! Facial coiff news: Well, I’m at day five of Mission Beard Re-Growth Testing Phase Beta. I am to be bearded again for the chilly days ahead. I thought about doing an Etruscan-like outline of a beard, or going for the look of a sailor in a Ray Harryhausen Sinbad movie from the 60’s, but I’m going to let it grow in before hacking it up or just settling for my familiar pomo geologist look.

Off to work I go…