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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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In a nutshell

A recap:

Thursday: Bart Davenport at Amoeba. He is a sexy and charismatic performer and it is very difficult to watch him strum and sing and dance and not throw your panties onstage. I only wish heíd done more of his Otis Redding growling. The Girlsí Night Out at North was fun except that all the ladies called it an early night and left around 8:30. The place is pretty cool though--all wood panelling and rock formations. I think itís best to get there early to a) take advantage of Happy Hour, and more importantly to b) avoid all the loser meat-marketeers.

Friday: dinner at Authentic, then a double feature at The New Beverly cinema--Raising Arizona and The Big Lebowski. I love the Coen Brothers.

Saturday: cleaned my desk! This was no small feat. There were little piles everywhere, it was like a fricken igloo of post-its and papers. Two deliveries arrived: my Margaret Kilgallen doll and my adorable little lamps from the Netherlands. The doll will necessitate some kind of special box (clear but lined in UV-coated clear film?) for display purposes or am I losing all perspective and becoming a freaky comicbook collector-type person? I canít even begin to wrap my feeble brain around that one, so I will move on to the lamps. They are soooo cute! And I bought them from a supercool Dutch site for a fraction of what it would have cost had I bought them here in the overpriced United States ($30 versus $110, and believe me, they are just *barely* worth $30 each.)

Last night I went to a friend of a friendís boyfriendís birthday thingie at a club in Echo Park. It must have been queer night because the place was crawling with every manner of butch girl and fey boy. And it was 80s night so I knew all the words to most of the songs. We were all sitting around, nursing our drinks, singing along when all of a sudden they played some crazy remixed version of Girls on Film and I just had to get up and dance. It was really fun, but I was wearing heels and so could not bust out any of my signature 80s moves. Oh yes, back in the day, I fancied myself some kind of alterna-choreographer, and created many robotic and silly dances which really, can only be performed in Converse or Vans for comfort and authenticity. Itís a lot easier to pop, lock and frug in tennis shoes than in 3 inch mary janes. I did, however, get to indulge in some nutty Tutankhamun moves during Egyptian Lover so all was not lost.

Which brings us to today, Sunday. The day we spring forward. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate this whole turning the clocks backwards and forwards? I think itís just stupid fakery. My body knows thereís some nefarious plan at work right now, and no amount of coffee or official awake time is going to convince it otherwise.

12:46 p.m. - 2002-04-07

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