amStrand hebdo: Nativ/itumRate
Thursday th 24, 12.1998 (11h14) dreams of boys last night-well, one guy: if it wasn’t jamie spader, it sure lookd like him…
I was sincerely apologetic, sorry if I’d led him on, I loved to flirt
but I wasn’t really into guys…explanations going nowhere, wondering
embarrassedly
if I should try to get mself excited for him, nothing if not anxiously
eager to please…
(my inner 18yr-old snickers @ me- ‘hey, old man- thought you’d have figured women out well enough to @ least get laid every once in a blue moon by now- @ 44 yrs of age! really…!’)
(I feel th condescension & contempt of women of all ages & walks of life-
friends, ex-lovers
& total strangers…yes, I am my momma’s frightened, frustrated, bewildered little boy, still…) speaking of doña mili- (‘uno no hace más q sufrir…q ganas d mortificar a uno…’) her three boys certainly seem to have inherited some kind of vocation for suffering & martyrdom…
but dr.dad helpd instill it, too…they made a team of magnificent,
self-righteous martyrs,
my mom&dad did…christmas is th perfect season for reflecting on all this-or should it be easter??
Saturday th 26, 12.1998 (23h53)
say a prayer/for th hardworking poeple/say a prayer for th salt of th
earth…
th moon is a sinking silver boat smiling all th way down behind th horizon
tonight…
Saturday night is th loneliest night of th week…any questions? got no
answers here…
forgot to ask mister kleiman where he got th venison chops…
my postchristmas splurge @ ‘iche’s’- is this my artists date? all by
myself…
dessert & everything…double grappa & a decaf espresso for th first time
since I left nyc last month…
‘this is th bad time, christmas, & th myths are honed fine…’
to quote dick hugo, ‘grand old detective of th heart’, as james crumley
dubbed him…
love & lukewarm half-gallons of holiday cheer, d=(8{>