tavie.com

I'm all crusty with emotion from watching something, but I'm not allowed to say what I was watching. Bah.

Today, things got done. I got two new shirts so that I will not be naked. Gina is on the tufon, watching something Olympic-y and screaming, "Oh my GOD! OH my god! OH MY GOD! Oh. Oh, FUCK OFF. Oh, fuck off. That poor guy. Ssshhhhhit." I have no idea what she is reacting to.

Crusty with emotion yet unable to share!

Today, Kitana made contact. Thank god.

I met some real smart kids today. They go to a real expensive school, which I'm sure is directly related. They were nice kids. I wish I'd had that vocabulary when I was thirteen. Why do I wish that? What does vocabulary have to do with smarts? Very little, you see.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:45 PM | shower me with attention

Can do New York. Can do Philly.

That looked like it. But Kitana pointed out that Syracuse is Good Friday.

We can do Syracuse!!! With Kit!!

Last night we were certain we wouldn't get to see a show with Kitana. Now... hope!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:19 PM | shower me with attention

We're starting to shape something here. We're forming a consensus: that there is no consensus. Believe it or not, I knew this (intellectually), but it's not something I can easily keep in mind.

Gina illustrated her views vocally to me. I wish I had been transcribing for my collection of musings, because I'm a pack rat and I really do like to read over this stuff.

Don't ask why I'm thinking about this now. I guess if you know me you know I'm always thinking about this. It's troubling, you know.

I knew I could count on you people to help me out with this one. Keep it coming if you've got it.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:17 AM | shower me with attention

Friday, February 15, 2002

OVOR has reached out and blessed us! Getcher red hot (TENTATIVE) tour dates!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:10 PM | shower me with attention

I think I'm amassing a pretty good personal collection to help sort this smart-stuff out for me. (Don't worry, it's all with permission. I would never post an IM or email without asking first, so don't be afraid to chime in on that account.)

Maybe it's a silly thing to compile but it helps me think.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:50 PM | shower me with attention

(Re: below) Well, here's one idea.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:52 PM | shower me with attention

Let me add: the questions below are extraordinarily important to me, personally, emotionally. I really would appreciate any thoughts anyone could offer.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:29 PM | shower me with attention

Question of the day:

What makes someone "smart"? In general? What makes one person's intelligence considered superior to another's? Do IQ scores indicate that a high-scorer is smarter than a low-scorer? Is "smart" about education, ability to think quickly or solve problems, a large vocabulary, ability to adapt to social situations, ability to do math? Can you become smarter by becoming more educated? What does smart mean? If it can be measured by IQ tests, who decided what the IQ tests should say? Were they smart? How did they know they were smart if they'd never taken the tests?

I want to know your thoughts on intelligence and the status quo concerning it, not what you think it should mean or what it means to you (unless you can tell me how what it means to you differs from what it means in terms of the general conceptions held by our society.) I want to know what makes one person smarter than another person.

Thanks.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:26 PM | shower me with attention

Dreamed of Mark last night. Am coming up the escalators on the Roosevelt Island subway station; get to the top and see him going into the elevator heading down. He's wearing a silk shirt with vertical rainbow stripes (much like the Jesus clown-pants that I require); he spots me, waves as the doors are closing, and chants loudly, "TOUR! TOUR! TOUR TOUR! TOUR!" I nod politely, smile and wave, and exit the subway station.

What's that about?

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

I can't paste the code right, but I'm a hippogryph.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:27 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, February 14, 2002

Geez, Barb, tell someone you have a blog (or two!) whydoncha?!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:32 PM | shower me with attention

You have got to create a 3-d model and try clothes on her. My model's name is Spazzo. She's my height and weight but she somehow looks good in a halter top.

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

I don't know if you thin people realize this... but there is some ugly-ass clothing in the world, and the man wants fat girls to wear it.

Go to one of the plus-size places if you're bored and have a good laugh. Geezum crow, it's depressing. I look better in my father's frayed, buttonless shirts form the 70's than I'd look in any of these turquoise, spandex sheaths. (They're not all terrible, mind you, but all of them are at least partially dismaying. Please, sir, just one pair of distressed jeans that don't have sequins or fringes on them, thank ye kindly.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:47 PM | shower me with attention

I take back my rant below. Well, about the flowers, anyway. Wherefore this slight change of heart? My valentine sent me a dozen of my favourite flowers (yellow roses) at work today. I feel special. Everyone who walks by comments on them. I am special and loved. (And they match my shirt.) That makes today a little better, although I still cling to my childish bitterness about the whole ridiculous thing. Puh! Puh!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:12 PM | shower me with attention

Fuck computers. Fuck the internet. I need my friends to be close to me. And they're not. And that fucking bites the fucking big one.

And, speaking of fucking things, hey, lovers. Hey, all you lovers. Take your candies and your flowers and your pink accessories and your glistening red lipsticks and your candlelit dinners and your comingling tongues and leave 'em outside. That's right. Just take it outside. Thanks so much.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:35 AM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, February 13, 2002

kithblog is up and running! Yay, sarah!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:09 PM | shower me with attention

I love Rob Brezny.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:24 PM | shower me with attention

Tell me whoooooo do you love, man.
Tell me what, man.
Tell me what is it you love maaaa-a-a-an...

An old-fashioned melodeeee....
de-de-deeee...
de-de-deeee...
de-de-deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:36 PM | shower me with attention

Okay... is it just me, or is this not the hottest blog entry you've ever read?

Oh my oh my. Tell us more about your harem of criminally underage buff young Swedish lads...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:52 PM | shower me with attention

He's right, you know.

Dizamn.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:18 PM | shower me with attention

Woah. Ouch. Headache. Caffeine necessary. Help. Help...

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:13 PM | shower me with attention

I want one.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:10 PM | shower me with attention

I am a strong and empowered Jesus. I am willing to overcome whatever obstacles are thrown at me. My love of God is strong. I can't imagine why people don't don't like me.

Take the What Jesus Would You Be? Quiz

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:05 PM | shower me with attention

Today, a grand failed experiment: drinking Diet Coke instead of coffee. I am almost asleep right now. I am too tired to even go downstairs and buy a cup of coffee.

Spreadsheet so long. Coffee so far. Eyelids so heavy. Shit.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:22 AM | shower me with attention

I can't articulate quite why, but I wish I was sarah c.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:21 AM | shower me with attention

I love this dilemma. Rynnie's pocket problem made my day.

I am a person in need of real distraction.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:18 AM | shower me with attention

Yes, but if I could read a little bit of this every day, I'd... be happy...

...hey, what happened to my powers of persuasion?

Blaaaaaaaaaaah. Next topic.

Is it wrong that when I read this, well, no, when I read Erica say this:

Do I have some passiveness in my personality that manifests itself in my writing?

that I snorted out loud?

Yes, it's very wrong. I love you, pumpkindoll. I was thinking about your blog template all day yesterday, in fact, and came to the conclusion that I haven't the skill to do it. Would anyone out there care to design a template for Erica?

Her favourite colours are...

...

...

holy shit, I don't know my "best friend" at all.

Could someone email me one of those "getting to know you" quizzes so I can make her fill it out...?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:11 AM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, February 12, 2002

Alex just sent me a spreadsheet.

Alex sends me tons of spreadsheets every day. But this spreadsheet is special. The name of the file containing this spreadsheet is: forTavie.xls.

Not "forOctavia.xls". forTavie.xls.

Wow.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:10 PM | shower me with attention

Fuck the Oscars.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:18 PM | shower me with attention

Orgy at my place on Valentine's Day. Please do not come unless you are willing to put out.

Tell your friends.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:10 PM | shower me with attention

Could someone explain this referral to me?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:48 PM | shower me with attention

Now that my friend Steph (not Steph or Steph, but Steph-from-first-grade-to-the-present-and-beyond who went to school in Tennessee and is going to grad school here-ish in the fall), just got temp work about three blocks away. So now we have lunch every day. Just like in grade school. It's quite lovely.

Today we reminisced about our grade-school lunches with Erica, whose mother always packed the most coveted of treats, foregoing anything that might have positive nutritional value for such delights as boxes of Hawaiian punch, baggies of Elfwiches and Triscuits and Cheez-Its. I kid my Aggie today that that's the reason we first became friends, but really it was because she was the most non-threatening person in kindergarten and so we got to talking.

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

I wish everyone was as comfortable with blogging their brain farts as I am. I understand that perhaps the last thing the web needs is even more pages full of thoughts of the "Gee, my ass is itchy" variety, but I don't really care about how our actions shape the face and future of the internet. I don't care that "the last thing the web needs is millions of people posting their every inane thought". I blog... okay, a lot... because it's fun. Because I don't have to necessarily put much thought in it. It's a nice place to keep the spare thoughts.

Obviously people are reading it and I have to keep that somewhere in my mind-- hell, that's why I'm not posting explicit sexual fantasies or the names of people I'm plotting to wrong-- but I think--know-- that the level of agonizing over crafting a blog entry is keeping people from posting as much as I'd like them to.

(And everything should be about my needs, she deadpanned.)

Well... I blog from work because my work is very tedious, and the accumulation of thoughts that build need to go somewhere, and fresh material coming into the brain (by way of other people's blog entries) is a welcome change from the lists of numbers and details of servers that I'll never actually see. It's therapeutic for me. I believe it keeps me sane. It keeps my greystuff flexed. It's communication of a very specific sort, lag-timed, usually untargeted, but somehow, in its way, intimate. An invitation to think along with others. Hello, welcome to my thoughts. Low-level socialization that I can get little doses of all day long; things I wouldn't necessarily feel comfortable saying out loud to the physical people occupying the immediate physical space surrounding me. And it doesn't take that much mental energy. Hardly any at all, really. Almost none. Okay: none.

Perhaps if I took a little time to craft this stuff, it would be more readable, but that's not what this thing is about for me.

I just wish everyone whose blogs I look forward to reading shared my approach.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:53 AM | shower me with attention

I can't ask you to write only for us, especially with your workload, but... but... can't you do both?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:22 AM | shower me with attention

This morning the conductor announced my subway stop as:

"Wall Street... still the financial capital of the free world!"

We all laughed. I expected him to add, "Muhfuh!", but, sadly, he did not.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:18 AM | shower me with attention

Monday, February 11, 2002

OVOR just emailed to tell me that they've got the routing pretty much worked out and the info-- venues, ticket prices, etc-- should be released by the end of the week.

Yay!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:29 PM | shower me with attention

Every day I have an orange for breakfast with my cup of coffee. This cannot continue.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:11 PM | shower me with attention

This reminds me of the conversation I had with my mom the other day. I was telling her what I got Matt for his birthday, and she said, with the accent,

"Is he THE GAY?"

to which I, of course, replied,

"Yeah, mom. He's THE gay. He has to do the parade all by himself."

Good times.

(My favourite part of that routine is that "her friend Scott called". Hee hee.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:06 PM | shower me with attention

Wow, disturbing. Has anyone ever heard of this movie?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:51 AM | shower me with attention

Ghosts! Madness! Ghosts! A message on my phone last night from my only real friend in high school, fallen out of touch. MADNESS!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:47 AM | shower me with attention

Muh.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:38 AM | shower me with attention

Sunday, February 10, 2002

I finally, with prodding from Gina, watched my first Queer as Folk, and who directed it? Bruce McDonald did!

My world is so tiny.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:14 PM | shower me with attention

Oh! I have neglected Bea Arthur! SHAME!

She was, oh, she was so utterly magnificent. I felt like I should have had a pad and pencil out, taking notes for my diva lessons. She was bawdy and brassy and baritone and brilliant. She sang, she regaled us with jokes and limericks; she was resplendent in sequins and bare feet. She shared secrets (Angela Lansbury, one of her closest friends, is a low-brow broad who swears like a sailor) and recipes (leg of lamb in her special marinade). She was Bea-lightful.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:58 PM | shower me with attention

Gina is sitting in her recliner with the ignored Olympics on tv, staring at her pictures of Trask and JCM from last night. And, I must admit, the picture of her and Trask, my current God, is really damn beautiful. I did manage to notice that much last night, despite my pretending to be Matt's personal assistant. (Our silent communication was impressive; I had planned to get a picture of Pinky with the Brain, but a slight nod told me that my charge was ready to be escorted away from his admirer. From Gosford Park I have learned that a good servant always anticipates the needs of her master; the pumpkin and I left quickly and quietly; I saved my squealing outburst for our emergence from the vicinity; and, yes, I had managed to notice how absolutely adorable those two were.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:44 PM | shower me with attention

Ego-surfing blogs...

Tara had a dream in which I busted a move on a stage in front of many people. I love the dream world. The dream world is crazy.

sarah found a transcript of some radio show that quotes posts from her, Andy Lurie and I from the newsradio newsgroup, back when it was still a viable usenet entity. The me portion:

"Alex, do the next one."
"Fine. This deals with a animated show or movie coming out sometime..."
"When?"
"It's in development."
"Oh, carry on."
" Wow, Monkey Bone... what a dirty, dirty, dirty name. It sounds like a Micky Dolenz porn vehicle.- Tavie "
"Oh God! Why did you read THAT!"
"Did that paint a nasty picture Chip?"
"I think I'm gonna be sick..."

Kat, my real twin switched-at-birth, celebrates our both feeling sometimes that we are gay men trapped in women's bodies.

Finally, Beth marvels at my fondness for crossword puzzles. I can offer no adequate explanation; my powers of description haven't kicked in. (I've been waiting for years.) All I can say is, there's a sense of absurd satisfaction involved. You must read David Sedaris' essay, 21 Down, from his book, Me Talk Pretty One Day, for he explains it much better than I could.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:38 PM | shower me with attention

I have been wearing a "Rent" shirt since 9 pm. It's oddly comfortable. I don't have any of my other Yitzhak garb on but I'm still wearing the "Rent" shirt. What the fuck.

Tomorrow we were gonna get tattooed but instead we are going to SLEEP, sweet, sweet SLEEP, and wait and take Aggie with us next weekend 'cause she needs to be there. Also I have no clean clothes.

Also I'm so tired I think I'm somnublogging. I am not functionally cognizant right now. Is that even a word? Or is it a word I dreamed up, like novembodentity?

Goodnight evrabuddy!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:28 AM | shower me with attention

Below was the truncated version because I am being hustled out of the house for omelettes at this hour. Thank you.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:19 AM | shower me with attention

Best Hedwig viewing ever. Oh god. Amazing.

At first, was uncomfortable because it turned out to start with a lining-up-for-autographs situation, which I hate-- I didn't look Trask nor Mitchell in the eye, but stared at Matt uncomfortably as he chatted with his extremely hot buddy JCM, keenly aware of the fake stubble on my face and Pirates of the Carribbean skullcap. But the showing itself was the blissiest of bliss, which ended with us watching the outtakes from the DVD right next to Trask, who laughed as loudly as we did at Andrea Martin's antics. And Gina was adorable, asking Trask if he was putting out an album (early next year), and I even asked him about sheet music without being unnaturally mean or snappy, as is my usual way. (And my sister asked for and recieved a Trask hug. Hominahominahominahominaholla.)

Best Hedwig experience ever.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:17 AM | shower me with attention