03 May, 2005

Human Interaction

...I think that God's got a sick sense of humor/ and when I die I expect to find him laughing....

"'Campy and eclectic'? What the hell does that mean? That you're appealing in many ways, all of them tacky?"


According to him, every man who claims to be a 'leg man' or an 'ass man' is lying.

"We have legs. We have asses. Every man's a breast man, because we don't have those."

The flat fanny of his fiancee proves that this is at least a personal truth.

Nice rack on her, though.


She says she used to worry that she would lose me early, that because I burned so hot and so bright, I'd consume myself in a firey blaze. She says she doesn't worry about that anymore. I wonder if I am content to be a candle rather than a comet.

I suppose on some level, I must be.


"How was it?"

Can you say 'clusterfuck'?

She tilts her head.

"I think so."


People from my past gleefully invade my present, intent on influencing my future.

Or perhaps inventing it.

Possibly, sometime in the past, they already have.


I overhear a conversation that seems apropo of exactly nothing. And yet.

"She used to be a man, and she still is living with the woman who was his wife. They don't have sex, though, and Oprah wondered why he bothered to change."

"What did he, uh, she say?"

"She leaned over and asked Oprah, 'Would you like to have a penis?' and that shut her up for a bit."

I believe I've met this woman.

"Really? What was she like?"

Very nice. Very normal, actually.

"Like, just a tall woman?"

Yes, but not unusually so. Still, I kept looking at her hands.

I have a tiny but important bond with transsexuals. My parents, who were going to name their son (me) Christian, because of a transsexual, did not name me (not a son) Christine. Thank you, Ms. Jorgensen.


I yank off the shirt I'm wearing to dump it into the stovetop dye bath.

Princess, run up and get Mama one of the shirts on the bed.

In my white bra I stand, stirring steaming clothing 'til she brings a different shirt. It is a testimonial to the strength of their conditioning that no member of my family blinks at this behavior.

(Blasphemous Rumors; Depeche Mode)

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