tavie.com

Today I played outside with Gina's friend's two little boys. (They call me "Taybee".) We ran around (ran! around!) and played in the dirt. I was a pirate. I got dirt everywhere, even in my mouth. It was so fun.

Then I came home and found out Kitana had called, so we called her back and she told us about all the fun she had at El Vez, and it made me feel even happier. (And my darling Crissy delivered my hug for me (and HER!), and not only THAT, but my darling Dave did too-- and it was a good LONG hug, too!-- and therefore three of my favourite people were all hugging the other night, and that is like chocolate milkshakes for my heart. I grow fat on that, in a good way.)

Also, my mom made reservations for us to go to Toronto to see Mark in his play in November. I have convinced Gina to come, too. This is very exciting.

Not to mention, my little love has internet access again!

The world is very scary and terrible, but there are these moments of light. I'm very lucky.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:02 PM | shower me with attention

My new favourite thing ever. Oh my.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:16 PM | shower me with attention

So much for that whole sleeping thing. No matter how sleepy and comfortable I get, it's just not happening. And I know Gina is up there laying awake, because she went to bed early with the beginnings of a migraine and she hasn't been sleeping well, anyway. I wish she'd give up trying to sleep and come down and watch a video with me. But maybe she is asleep. I hope so.

I tried the whole staring-at-the-dark-ceiling thing, but it wasn't happening. Keep seeing burning paper and felt the distinct and undeniable urge to listen to "Midnight Radio", so I am now. Actually now I'm listening to "Nailed", the next song on the movie soundtrack, because I really love it. It fits with my whole sexy-Jesus fixation really well.

Let's talk about nail polish. My main reason for putting it on is for the pleasure of chipping it off. It rarely lasts more than a few days on me. The last bits I have now clinging to my fingers is the remains of Kitana's from when she was here two weeks ago. It's sort of pearly mauve. Every time I start to chip it off or head for the acetone I find that I cannot. It's irrational and probably some sort of symptom of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but I can't help it. It's like wearing some of Kitana. I put it on when the world was still a comfortable place to live. Before everything fell apart. I can't remember clinging to nonsense so fiercely since I was ten and in the hospital and kept a store under my pillow of every single dried, twisted, crumbling, used-up tissue that my mother gave me while I was in there. (I really cried when a nurse found them and threw them out, too. Like somehow I was betraying her. That's how removing the nailpolish feels; that exact feeling. So I don't.)

It's not going to stop...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:55 AM | shower me with attention

Friday, September 21, 2001

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:07 PM | shower me with attention

Actually, Tara, JCS and Godspell are often compared to one another; both were "rock musicals" about Jesus and his crazy posse (although I think Superstar is much more a rock musical than Godspell) and both film versions came out the same year, so it's not at all strange that you would associate the two. I am fond of both movies and shows. I've just been way more focused on Godspell because I just "discovered" the movie last year, so I'm still coasting on that wave of newly-discovered music obsession.
And please, please, please see Hedwig if you can. I've seen it thrice and I am still jonesing to see it again.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:59 PM | shower me with attention

Everything I said about Conan, it was twice as bad watching Jon Stewart today. I really thought all the crying was going away, but it was just starting up. I'm really glad I'm here with Gina.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:50 PM | shower me with attention

Why did I watch Sophie's Choice? Why? Why did I do that? Can't see to type. Oh my god.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:33 PM | shower me with attention

{{{{{sarah}}}}} Welcome to the Effexor club, may I take your coat?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:08 PM | shower me with attention

Last night I was up until 5 am, scaring myself by reading article after depressing article in the Village Voice and jumping at the lightning (which I never do).
Normally I don't care for Dan Savage, but this week his column was like an entry out of my own blog. He spent pretty much the whole space ignoring the questions and talking about Godspell. It gave me a start.

And I feel pretty much just as he does right now. I've never liked the message in the song "All for the Best"-- I've always loved the song, but most of the messages in Godspell are just plain stupid-- and now the song is forever tainted by the image of Jesus dancing on top of the Tower.

Kind of a shock to see Savage devoting so much column space to it, though.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:50 AM | shower me with attention

Hey, Jodi.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:33 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, September 20, 2001

Went to feminism and children's lit classes today. First one okay, second boring as usual. (I read more of Davies' World of Wonders the whole class.) Learned I have to write a couple of papers. I can't make myself be interested in school right now. Just can't. I'll do it, last minute, half-assed. Whatever.

Back here again. Feels better to be here. During the holidays this week I was back to my old sleeping-eating-tv-internet-repeat-repeat-repeat pattern. And feeling horrible. Now if I feel horrible at least I'm doing it here with Gina.

Want to be with Kitana so bad. She needs to be hugged and I'm not there. Even considered calling Crissy and demanding she hunt Kit down and hug her at the show tomorrow. Probably won't do that. Probably.

Saw something disturbing on the PATH ride over here. Two seats away from me, a businessman-type. Near the end of the ride, I noticed him mumbling to himself, or to the couple nuzzling across from us. Since they paid no attention to him I thought he was just talking to himself. The businessman and I both stood up to get off the train at Harrison, and that's when the businessman (drunken businessman?) stopped in front of the couple (who were dusky-skinned, which I suppose is significant these days) and mumbled something angrily to them. I couldn't tell whether he said "terrorists" or "Harrison". They didn't have time to react-- barely time to look up-- before he was out the door, and me following him with a look of bafflement bordering on horror. Several other passengers exiting exchanged this look of baffled horror with me. What the hell? What the fuck? Not in my city. Not on my PATH train. Keep it outside. Take it away, drunken businessman.

Maybe we're all walking on nails now.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:33 PM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, September 19, 2001

Another reason life sucks.

No Scott to look forward to now.

What next?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:31 PM | shower me with attention

Tonight Conan scared the hell out of me.

I'm watching now. Letterman and Leno were strange and moving in their ways, but Conan made me cry. The only other time I'd seen him be anything approaching sincere or serious was when Andy left and he tried to hide his tears. Tonight, he is nothing but serious, he can be nothing but serious, there is nothing else for him to be, and it drove the new reality of our world home in a way that the newscasters and the other media people just couldn't. For many people in my generation or in my circles or who share my general attitude about life, Conan is someone who is admired and appreciated because of his sarcastic, cynical outlook.

Tonight Conan asked us not to be cynical. It scared the hell out of me. I understood it, I admired it, and I was terrified of it.

Is there any way back? Is there any way out? We're all just waiting now. It's the most terrible waiting I've ever known. I don't know what we're waiting for. I'm afraid to know.

The part of me that keeps me numb and distant, that very talented part of me that has kept me relatively free of pain through the various painful parts of my life, is in full gear, has been in full gear since 8:45 am last Tuesday, but no armour is without chinks.

What else? My boss called today. She says they expect the building to get power back next week, she'll call me herself when it's ready, and she really wants me to return to my job. Despite the fact that just days ago I couldn't imagine ever going to that area of town again, I feel now, and told her, that I will be ready and eager to go back to work when they're ready for me.

My mom bought me piggy slippers.

Thinking about Dave and Crissy and El Vez makes me feel good, but I just can't think about it all the time. I wish I could.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:16 AM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, September 18, 2001

This list makes me angry.

Hey, you know what they should play instead of BNL's "Falling for the First Time" is "If I Fall", which is actually MORE "questionable" right now. Ha ha. That'd really slay 'em right now. They're lined up at the window/peer down into limbo/frightened of jumping/in case they survive...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:02 PM | shower me with attention

I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm scared.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:18 PM | shower me with attention

I am not a person for whom sleep, at night, comes easily. This is maybe a strange fact, considering my infamy among friends and family for the number of hours that I am capable of sleeping in a stretch, and for the amount of noise and clamour that I am able to sleep through. I am, indeed, a very good sleeper once it gets to me, and I also admit that I am someone who has a talent for getting sleepy and shutting off a inappropriate moments of stress. (This is self-defense, something I refer to as my anxiety-tryptophan, what I think of as the chemical that my brain releases when confronted with stressful situations.)

But when it comes to sleeping at night, after an appropriate number of hours of wakefulness and activity, even at the moments of most extreme exhaustion, I have always, as many do, had trouble shutting off the brain. I find it almost impossible to go to bed at night and fall asleep without reading or doing one of my beloved New York Times crosswords first, no matter how utterly drained and exhausted and wiped out I may be. I invariably find it stressful, in some degree, to share a room with someone, because I know the light I'd require to read or crossword will bother most people, and so I usually spend nights that I share a room with someone (other than my sister or perhaps Erica or Steph) laying awake for a very long time, with my eyes closed, and usually after an hour or two sleep will creep up on me. I suppose this may surprise people like Kitana, whom I've shared a room with very recently, but it's not the hardship I make it out to be; it simply will take me longer to fall asleep if I don't get my distractions in first.

For the past week sleep has been very, very difficult in coming. I am comforted somewhat by the fact that this is an affliction that is being shared by the majority of the people in the world around me at this time in our lives. But it's hard, isn't it? Even after reading, even when I'm certain I'll start slipping into that pleasant pre-dream hypnogogic state where words run together and strange things happen that I can just barely attend to and be lullingly entertained by on the fringes of my fleeting consciousness, my brain shocks itself awake again and again with images I'd rather not see, and imagined scenarios I have no business imagining. I'm sure anyone reading this (and by now I'm sure it isn't just me) is familiar with the kind of thoughts and scenarious and images I'm speaking of, and I don't guess I'll go into them right now, but suffice it to say that they are terrifying and horrifying and heart-wrenching in the extreme.

Dan Rather is on Letterman now and he is making me cry.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:08 AM | shower me with attention

Monday, September 17, 2001

I really want one of these.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:46 AM | shower me with attention

Tonight I laughed. I wasn't sure I could, but I did, I did, I did. And it was all thanks to the glory that is El Vez.

Well, not all thanks. It was also thanks to the wonder that is Dave and the joy that is Crissy.

Not only did I laugh and have fun and stamp and shake and forget, but so did Gina and that, my friends, is magic.

If you get a chance to see El Vez, do not pass it up. Tonight he was balm on my soul. Tonight I am an honourary MexiCAN (not a MexiCAN'T.)

And bless Crissy and Dave, bless them both, I love them so.

Before the show, Crissy saw me and ran over to hug me and I almost cried, I was so glad to see her sunshine smile. (Corny, shmorny, but that's what it felt like.) And she took me over to Dave, and we spoke and it was very good to see him, very very good.

During the show, Crissy shimmied and sparkled and glowed, matched in her effervescence only by El Vez himself. If her smile is sunshine, her voice is the sun itself. The woman can sing, people, oh my good glory can she sing.

After the show, Dave warmed my heart until it bubbled by seeking me out, taking us down to see Crissy and meet The Man Himself (who kissed our hands! squeal!), and commented for the first time in six years about the length of my hair (which is a Very Important Passage Point for me, as some may know. You mention the hair and you're in the Book Of Tavie Love for life, no turning back. As if Dave wasn't already). And we melted into the night full of love and joy and relief.

Yes, relief, because the sum of these experiences was enough to take us away from outside, much like depression era audiences were taken away by two hours of Shirley Temple tap-dancing her way across the screen. The joy of being able to laugh, and see people we admire and appreciate and love, was the best medicine I think I could have had.

Ole!

(On the way up the stairs, after meeting the magnificent El Vez, I was heard to sigh, "I've met God now", to which Crissy was heard to reply, "Careful, you'll make Dave jealous!" Can there be a better moment than that, I ask you?)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:46 AM | shower me with attention

Sunday, September 16, 2001

I came across this picture taken outside of the Bread Box (precursor to Mint Manor) during the time of the KITH tour last year.

It makes me melancholy.

But those two goils in the foreground, I still have them.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:09 PM | shower me with attention

If anyone needs me, I'll be over here spanking sarah c* for not telling me she has a blog.

(*Everyone should try it, by the way, it's very therapeutic.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:57 PM | shower me with attention