first date: a haiku

you checking for lumps?
trying to start a fire?
gentle circles please

this needs to persist on the internet

via discovermagazine.com

say cheese

in seventh grade english we read i am the cheese, by robert cormier. my then best friend and i, in our perverse adolescent boredom, started a game in which we rewrote the lyrics of contemporary pop songs to be about cheese. examples that i recall were i want it with pate and eat me baby one more time, by the backseat toys and chutney spears, respectively. years later, i find i have not outgrown such hijinks:



i'm going to getchu getchu drunk
getchu drunk, off my brunch--
my brunch--my lovely lady lunch
-my brunch, by the black iced teas

name and be named

on a whim i looked up my name in a baby name dictionary. carol. english for song, german for man. a free man, but a man regardless. compound this with my middle, or given chinese name, a homonym for music that means an inner ladylike grace. the former chosen by me on the cusp of being naturalized as a united states citizen; the latter chosen by my mother on the eve of my birth in china. i don't think i quite believe in god, but i do believe in fortuitous constellations of events, and it seems my identity as a music-obsessed gender dysphoric was determined from the very beginning.

taking back the femme

italian male intern: i love beautiful women. they should make a movie in which anne hathaway and angelina jolie just stay there and don't talk for the entire time.
me: really? because my perfect female fantasy involves angelina jolie kicking the shit out of me, after which helena bonham carter grabs my neck and drinks my blood.
italian male intern: that's fucked up.

things men have told me i evoke

-fair trade coffee
-a nutcase
-this fabric pattern, but in a different colour scheme:

men named harvey who stroke my intellectual fires

-david harvey
-harvey milk

celebrity men for whom i feel equal jolts of attraction and terror

(reasons in parentheses)

1. christian bale (american psycho)


2. christian slater (heathers)

she keeps the pulpit stage of my heart

thinks about bodies and physical pain a lot. that the most profound existential experiences have been connected to being hit, being sexually thrown about, being held after the storm, crushing my body into yours at a concert in which the only thing we had in common was a coordinate in time and space.

the necessary conclusion is that once we've entered into a physical relationship, you and i, there's no turning back from this unspoken level of relation. there is no place for small talk. if i can't have sex with you, the only other option is to punch the living daylights out of you.

current project

i think i may start surreptitiously sneaking in as many pedro almodovar film titles as possible into regular conversation, bonus points if the conversacion esta conducida en espanyol.

examples:
"Crabcakes? What have I done to deserve this?!" [Que he hecho yo para merecer esto?, 1984]
"Mmm mmm, girl was shakin' like a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown." [Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios, 1988]
"Wouldn't you like to explore the flower of my secret?" [La flor de mi secreto, 1995]
"There's nothing I love more than trembling flesh." [Carne tremula, 1997]

the last word

me: [to therapist] so, i think i'm really weirded out by this current relationship because it doesn't involve drug problems, sexual perversion or mutual co-dependency.

celebrity men whom i have loved (parts 1-4)

1) tom cruise


2) leonardo dicaprio


3) mark hoppus


4) kurdt kobane