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After some minor "technical difficulties."

Chicago, the city where goths go to die

When I was about 12 or 13 (1993), I got into goth. Big Time.


That's me and my posse when Seventeen came to do a photoshoot.


and that's me. I'd like to think it's the last time I wore black lipstick, but I might be wrong.

I got into goth A. because I was a depressed tween who thought vampires were sexy and B. I had a an awesome penpal (RIP K.) who sent me cassettes of Sisters of Mercy, Joy Division and Bauhaus and effectively upgraded me from the Cure and Morrissey tapes I'd recorded from the library. From there I got into Siouxsie, Christian Death and Sex Gang Children. I made stencils of my favorite bands logos and made T-shirts (I'd begun as a zine-making punk, so the DIY sensibilities were still intact; my ex boyfriend even rolled his own clove cigarettes from looseleaf paper and kitchen spices), read a lot of Poppy Z. Brite and Storm Constantine, and dyed my hair a lot. On a family trip to LA, I made my mom take me to Retail Slut to buy their famous black rubber bracelets. I am even ashamed to admit I once stole a rosary off of a gravestone and wore it on a regular basis. My best friend and my boy friend were the only other people I knew who were into goth music besides Daniel (a moody yet irresistable junior whose parent bought him knee-high skull buckle boots and purple contact lenses). There were also James and Nadia, the super hot elder goths (they were maybe 21 or 22) who worked at the clothes and record stores on Telegraph Ave. in Berkeley. Everyone else assumed I was depressed or suicidal, or harbored homicidal tendencies towards religious people (because of my Christian Death shirts).

A year or so later, Marilyn Manson broke out, and all of a sudden all the incoming freshman at my highschool were goths, there was a Hot Topic on Telegraph Avenue (why bring a suburban chain to type of neighborhood that inspired the store in the first place?) By that point, the goths who worked on telegraph had gotten into Rockabilly whereas I was attempting to ape a Nu-Romantic look 10 years after it had passed out of vogue with leather ties and a neon yellow pompadour.

I have retained some of my gothic stylistic sensibilities well into my late twenties, most of my clothes are still black, though I really like pink too. Going to Goth Clubs was a welcome release from the middle class white hell of my Southern California college town. I loved dressing up for Harajuku when I lived in Tokyo but I admit I never tried very hard, because the Japanese just did it better. The Japanese also understood that you gave that shit up once you turned 18.

Chicago is strange, however. I've stayed on the fringes of the goth and BD/SM scene because I still love the music and getting dressed up on occasion, but I also find scenes and the people who populate them to be intensely annoying. The funny thing about Chicago is I have never met more goths in their thirties and forties anywhere. It's been a while since I went clubbing in SF, but I was always under the impression that people in the goth scene there moved on by thirty. Personally I cannot understand how one can be over the age of twenty and still find goth so fascinating that you want to dress full-time and live the "lifestyle" (har), but I guess I started early. I met a dude who started dressing goth at 36, which is kind of sad, because in the beginning everyone wants to wear the white face and black lipstick, and that look tends to work better on 15 year olds than middle aged businessmen.

I still wear black nailpolish from time to time because it's classic- you don't have to be goth to wear it, and it looks good on a lot of people, especially dudes. Black lipstick however is something I think should be left for teenagers and couture. I had a 29 year old friend (who actually uses "goth" as part of his moniker) who insisted he can pull of the black lipstick and make it look good, and I'm sorry, but no he can't.

So is being a forty year old goth pathetic or brave? Pathetic because it's kind of a juvenile aesthetic and sensibility, or brave because you're ignoring societies dictates of how a forty year old should dress and act? I've learned in the long run that a subversive mindset is more about behavior and intellect than how one dresses, but I fear many of these folks have not made the distinction. Dressing up is fun, but it does not make you intrinsicly subversive. I am also saddened how the goth subculture has shifted away from an emphasis on reading and creative expression to just getting drunk and dancing- intellectual discourse was a big part of it in Berkeley when I was growing up. Maybe it was because we were too young to go to clubs yet, so we had to sit at home and read creepy books, but I always liked the fact that the goths I knew in highschool were the types to get perfect SAT scores even if they flunked their classes, and carry tomes of Oscar Wilde around for fun.

A final note- no one (and several people I know are guilty of this) should refer to themselves as "enigmatic." You cease to be enigmatic once you label yourself as such, and if you don't understand why, you need to read more.

Crush of the moment

Ivan Ives. Dorky looking Russian rapper with mad flow and inexplicable sex appeal. Listen to the song, it's awesome.



I seem to have an ungodly fascination with Russian dudes right now, probably because they are the bad news (sometimes) and nothing is sexier than bad news!

From the annals of professional alcoholism, part deux

Page 35 of this week's Time Out Chicago features a couple new bar reviews from me- Gamblers, the bar where a toothless gentleman wearing a fake cop shirt that said "Penis Offerer" bragged that he had enough explosives in his garage to blow up my house, and Hollywood Lounge, a bar whose only redeeming quality is that it's walking distance from my house.

There's no byline but they did compensate me well. Check 'em out!

I also did a mini Ukrainian Village bar tour with a visiting friend this past Friday (which involved topless B&W photobooth pictures at Rainbo Club) & I have nothing but good things to say about Rite Liquors, the father of all old man bars/liquor store bars combos. Adorably sweet & cute Polish bartendress named Evalina made us a disgusting elixir of Old Krupnik Honey Vodka and Sour Mix at our misguided behest and taught us how to toast in Polish (Nastrovia!) while Daddy Yankee and Johnny Cash played on the jukebox. I also got cruised by lots of scary old men even though I was wearing jeans & a hoodie! I <3 Chicago.

From the annals of professional alcoholism

Monday I attended the first annual International Wines, Spirits & Beer Expo at McCormick Place at the behest of the Chicago Reader Food Chain Blog, and needless to say, it was friggin awesome.

Read my blog about it here!

Penelope

The beautiful Miss Eli Maybe dedicated this song to me. It's about being sick of men but a failure as a lesbian. AND IT'S A TRUE STORY! (about both of us).

Lyrics:

i've had so many problems with men
i think i might become a lesbian
there's only one thing stopping me
no, i don't care for the taste of penelope

oh, penelope how could you do this to me
reel me in, it sounded sweet
oh, penelope how could you deceive me so?
my jaw is tired, my tongue is sore

each time i've tried it's only gotten worse
i guess i just don't like the girls
i hope you know it was not meaningless
but i really need a peeeenelope

oh, penelope how could you do this to me
with promises so savory
oh, penelope how could you believe i'd stay
did you even bathe today?

oh, penelope how could you lead me on like this
i gotta can your tuna fish

Now you know my secret!

It's Mojo! In a bottle. By Goya (tm).

Let's not eat our own.

My writer friend and mentor Max Wolf Valerio, whose beautiful book "The Testosterone Files" (about transitioning from female to male) was published by Seal Press a few years ago, wrote a very interesting post about The Seal Press "Girlcott" (for the love of god, boycott is NOT a gendered term). Apparently they published a humorous book with illustrations that were perceived as racist by many (images of a blonde superhero battling "natives" in a jungle). I can see why people would be bugged by this, though the intent was not to offend or demean POC and perhaps Seal (which focuses on feminist and queer books) should have known that these images might have triggered a reaction in people.

However, I did think Max made some good points in his post- Seal apologized and pulled the illustrations. So why are we being told to boycott one of the few small publishing houses that is completely dedicated to writing by and for women, that accepts unagented manuscripts about topics that mainstream publishers won't touch, because of one faux pas? They are struggling financially as is, do we really want to force them out of business completely? They're doing their damndest to fix the problem. Maybe people hold them to a higher standard than the rest of the publishing world because they are a feminist publisher, but this really bugs the fuck out of me.

There are worse problems and better ways to direct your rage about racism than attacking a small feminist publishing house.

Cable television will make you gay!

Why is cable television overrun with so many hot futch women lately?

Kate Moennig on Showtime's L Word (too thin, but hotter 'n hell)

Jackie Warner on Bravo's Work Out

Dani Campbell from A Shot of Love Season 1 on MTV

Rada Sims from A Shot of Love Season 2 (Haven't watched it, I heard she got eliminated pretty fast but she's a Ukrainian cutie)

The weirdest thing about this is straight women are NUTS for these women (myself included, though I guess I'm technically bi). I hear Jackie Warner gets a lot of love letters from married women, and I knew a lot of straight women who said they had a thing for Dani.

Speaking of Futch, it looks like Dani sort of have her clothing line Futch Apparel up and running...And by sort of I mean a few teeshirts on a cartfly site. Hopefully she'll get to realize her dream on a greater level at some point.

So the question is, when do we start seeing these fines bitches on network TV?

In lieu of actual content

Things I have cooked in the past month that have been exceedingly delicious:

French apple cupcakes

Banana bread

Beef brisket (in onion soup mix! Delicious!)

Deep fried mac n' cheese

Taco rice (Japanese style taco salad, with rice instead of chips)

Karaage (Japanese fried chicken)

Sangria

Peanut butter cookies


To be honest, though mostly I eat grilled cheese sandwiches on ezekiel bread.

Chicago Love Vol. 1

Sitting at Argo Tea at State and Randolph I just had the AMAZING revelation that I can now find my way around THE LOOP without getting lost! I have had four jobs around Chicago/Grand red line stations (after I effectively swore I wouldn't take any more jobs in that area) which is technically River North, but close enough. I actually kind of understand the layout of this city now. Amazing.

I want to write a series about things I love about this goddam city but there's so many things. I am for serious when I say while I could be happy living in other cities, nowhere has felt as much like home as Chicago (not even Berkeley). So I will post the things I love as they occur to me. Most of them are food related:

1. Elote carts. I can never move to the East Side because I would miss these dudes too much. They stand on corners and in parks in warm weather (year round in the south side, I am told), with a cooler full of hot corn, which they will slice off the cob, put into a cup, and slather with butter, mayo, cheese and hot pepper for $2. They also usually have mangos and cucumbers, sometimes melons and pineapples too, which they will also cut up and drench in lime juice salt and hot pepper for your enjoyment. Sometimes they have snow cones, horchata, potato chips, fried pig skins, or tacos. Some of the dudes have mobile elotes carts with horns on them that they'll push around going "honka honka." I remember my first trip to Chicago hearing that "honka honka" in a middle of a sex act and being like, WHAT THE FUCK, and my lover saying "oh, that's just the elotes dude," like I'd have any idea what that meant.

2. I also really love the soft serve ice cream trucks but there don't seem to be any in my current neighborhood. They usually only have strawberry and vanilla, which you can in a cone for a dollar, or they'll make you a sundae or split for 2 or 3 bucks. Amazing, way better than the good humor crap.

3. While we are on the ice cream theme, Margies. Amazing cheap sundaes slathered in delicious hot fudge and served in crazy shell shaped bowls. The only at Armitage and Western is the best, but there's one near Montrose Brown Line which is smaller but closer to my current digs.

4. Miko's Italian ice. In my old neighborhood of Logan Square, open only during the summer. Italian Ice in delicious flavors like mango and coconut served out of a window in what appears to be someone's living room.

5. On the mobile food tip- the tamales guy. He goes around bars in wicker park/ukrainian village/bucktown selling bags of tamales for $5. So delicious!

6. Polish dive bars. I am a sworn convert to Old Krupnik Honey Vodka and Okocim beer (though I'll drink PBR if it's on tap for a $1.25 a draft). Ukrainian Village is packed with these joints, the area used to be called "Polish Broadway."

I'll go back in put in some links later, right now I'm running late for drink at Stella's Sports Bar with Reader cronies!

Let's enjoy some cracked out French New Wave!

Les Rita Mitsouko- Marcia Baila

Burlesque annoys me.

I have realized that I don't like (most) burlesque for the same reason I don't like (most) poetry. It's pretentious, it's evasive, and it takes itself way too seriously. But see, I love the raunchiness of strip clubs, and pole dancing. I loved when a stripper at a Japanese dyke club mashed her breasts into my face. Expert poledancing is truly amazing to watch. But modern burlesque? Take off one glove....bah dum...take off the other glove...da dum...take off the stocking....yawn...by the times the breasts come out, the song is over and my attention has wandered elsewhere. Maybe that's because I spend too much time on the internet and can look at porn any time I want.

There's a reason burlesque was big in the forties- they didn't have bukkake porn back then.

There's only so long that a pair of ruffle butt panties and a pinup girl hairdo can hold my interest. And I can tell a lot of the girls who are doing it desperately crave validation and it's a little...sad.

Same thing with poetry- can you just get to the point of what you're trying to say without couching it in flowery words? Poets are often self important douchebags to boot. I prefer good prose any day. Prose is solid and to the point.

I have performed burlesque all of once, at a big dyke event in San Francisco in 2005. I had just got back from Japan, I was in terrific physical shape and I was under the mistaken impression that I was a lesbian. I had learned to wear kimonos in Japan and I was like OOOH IT WOULD BE SO COOL TO STRIP OUT OF A KIMONO! I asked Fairy Butch (the organizer) if she thought anyone would get offended and she greenlighted me.

So I did it- stripped out of my Obi and white satin underrobe to pale purple bra and panties, then thong and fishnets to a Japanese jazz song- and I didn't feel sexy. The crowd wasn't crazy about it either. I have no dyke mojo, apparently. Coming off the stage, I had a white man (FTM but still) start yelling to me about how my performance was offensive to people of color. I went into the bathroom and cried. So needless to say, I have not been inspired to do burlesque since.

That said, I feel sexy as hell in drag as David Bowie or Billy Idol or in my sailor suit with a strap-on underneath. I just make a hotter boy (in spite of my boobs?) I guess.

So, invite me to the Admiral Theater anytime. But if it's a Michelle L'amour show, I'll pass, thanks.

General maintenance!

I went through and weeded out a bunch of underused tags and created tags for the following frequently searched subjects:

Transamerican Love Story (The wildly popular interview with Shawn is here)


Alexyss K. Tylor (I still need to transcribe the interview I did, and transcription sucks, okay?)

Tracie Egan (I think she dislikes me, but you people keep searching for her, so I'll suck it up fr now.)

You can see all the tags in the bottom right hand corner of the blog.

Also:

Buy Japanese vulva amulets here!

and if you haven't yet, check out No to the O ! I've made it a week already!

Drunk is good.

Hey check it out! More bar reviews by me in the Chicago Reader! (They were even raunchier before my editor got her hands on em.)



I swear I'm not an alcoholic. I just love Polish dives.

Vulva Amulet back in stock!

VULVA AMULETS ARE NOW IN STOCK!!!

I have restocked for fall as of 9/8/09.

Price is $20 through paypal.

You can view my ebay history here to see I have had 100% positive feedback from my past sales of these amulets. When submitting payment, please make sure your address is clearly marked and note that the payment is for the vulva amulet.

Best of List

I have compiled a little best of list (in the right hand column, below the about me and archives) of some of my favorite posts and most-viewed posts. Enjoy!

Day three, going strong!

Most of my blogging for May will be here: No to the O

Check it out! You can even subscribe to Twitter updates!

Special K is the new Prozac

Night club drug could ease depression: scientists

So wow, Special K might be the new SSRIs...a fact I find vaguely unnerving.

Then again, I'm one of those weirdos for whom SSRIs don't work.

Say no to the O!!!

My best friend from college (a dude) and I are doing this experiment where we don't have an orgasm for thirty days. He made it two weeks before his ex girlfriend derailed him, I made it four days before I got too aroused looking at a website detailing female orgasm suppression and gave in. You can read our further observations here:

http://nototheo.blogspot.com/

We start day one tomorrow, together!

Miss Saro is fierce!

My friend Saro's write up of the first episode of Transamerican Love Story is fucking hilarious!

As with most shows you have to have a hook for asking someone to stay. Here Calllie feeds the guys a chocolate and asks "will you stay with me?" (If this was my show they'd get a swat on the ass with a wooden spoon and asked "IS IT WRONG?").