tavie.com

Now, with permission, my sister's account of the Hedwig midnight showing:

My night of clitty pseudo fandom.

shut up.

Went to Hedwig viewing with Tavie last night. I don't know the songs, don't
know the names, don't want to fuck the dude who played Tommy Gnosis.

DO, however, want to fuck Stephen Trask. He is the base player with no lines.

Shut up.

An example of the Rocky Horror cult beast Hedwig has become: people were
showing up in costume. Lots of clubby gay boys in blonde wigs and eyeliner.
Tavie insisted on going as the wacky drag king with the beard, skull cap and
heavy accent.

[Um-- NO. I did NOT "insist" any such thing. I had a skull cap, I got a Rent tee shirt, I swapped jackets with Mike at the very last minute, and I allowed Cheryl to draw a beard on my face, but I did not insist on anything, and was actually fairly embarrassed about my get-up at times. -T.]

Yes, she drew stubble on her face.

I was in vinyl and felt properly attired.

Tavie's friend Gina showed up in her amazing rackiness, wearing a delicious
red fuzzy number that may or may not have been plucked from the shelves of
HOT TOPIC.

Tavie's high school trick, Matt, came resplendent in tight pink pants in a
shade to match his wig and a luscious hot pink lace bra underneath his
button-up shirt. Lipstick was applied. He looked $10 cheaper. Gave him my
fingerless lace gloves to smoke with.

He was abominably ravishable.

John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask were both there to sign shit. I
didn't have anything I wanted signed but the scary bouncers were herding us
all to the signing table in clumps. Very awkward. Addressed Mitchell as
"daddy" out of habit. He was very cute. He smirked and signed a flyer,
unaware that my gaze was on Trask like the moon to the earth.

Still don't know or care who he is. He is hot.

Felt out of place.

They wouldn't start the movie until EVERYBODY on the line had gotten their
wigs/tits/posters/moms signed. We had to wait outside. Very cold.

Saw the movie again. Liked it again. Tavie and Matt were both sitting behind
me shouting at the screen and singing along.

Wanted to leave early.

Tavie was in tears by the end. Don't know why.

[You don't know me at all! -T.]

Then the theater played all
the cut scenes and they were fucking hilarious! Hedwig's manager, Phyllis
Stein, had us pissing ourselves.

They played this one extended scene in the laundry room which I distinctly
remember because Trask was shirtless in it. That scene was not about Hedwig
and a bra in a dryer. It was about Trask shirtless.

I wanted to tell Tavie that.

[Why? Because I say that out loud every time I watch the film? -T.]

Luckily, I did not.

Unbeknowst to me, Trask was sitting behind us. =/

It would have been a high school moment.

We get up to leave. I still want to touch him.

I pull a lame fangirl and ask for a hug.

Feel cheap. The day before I did not even know his name. =/

Who fucking cares, he is HOT! =)~

"Sure" he says shyly.

UNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!

He holds me tight against his hard body and squeezes. My face is in his
stomach (I rise no higher) He is really fucking tall. I feel his breathing,
smothered in Trask, I am elated for a nanosecond.

After a nanosecond, I realize that this embrace is pointless, empty, false--a
betrayal. Like dark room sex. I have no informed opinion of Trask other than
his amazing hotness. I know nothing of his surely insurmountable talents or
his burgeoning career. I care not for his album or his venues. I don't even
know all the fucking lyrics!!!

Guilt gnaws at me.

I try to pull away prematurely.

He won't let me go. =/

Oh. Help?

I love those "Oh-no-you-don't! Where you think YOU'RE going?" hugs.

I weaken.

Mission accomplished, I pull quickly away. I thank the dude and exit left.
Couldn't look him in the eye to thank him without feeling 13 years old. I
am really fucking short. He is really fucking tall.

--Kirsten

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:21 AM | shower me with attention