The Drag Show

I'm exhausted and I don't know what I was thinking. And I can't believe I actually came up with this crazy idea several days before the event. The adrenaline is wearing off and I'm going "there are pictures of me out there being fucking insane, what was I thinking" so I think I'm going to go to bed now and hopefully I'll be over all of it by the morning. Jesus Christ.

And I don't know what I was thinking, but it was weird to take everything off and go back to being Rob again. Like it was fucking weird but I got into it, you know? Which is why I didn't run off and change as soon as the lights came up, and I think the only thing that really stopped me from leaving it on to go out afterwards was the damn shoes. (Remind me to return Ulrich's hat.) Still, anyone who didn't come tonight, you missed out, because I don't know if I'll ever be doing that again.

Also at least Lauren seems to know enough about the genderqueer thing to explain it to her boyfriend. I wasn't expecting that. I guess since Alison just rolled right over Liz using male pronouns for me the next-to-last time she was here and even translated the sentence to explain away the 'him,' I just kind of assumed all my roommates were ignoring it.

I'm also conspicuously (and not-so-conspicuously) missing a lot of hair. It's just been a strange two weeks.

I don't know. It's almost two so it's definitely time for bed.


I'm sorry but it's true
I'm still in love with you
And I don't know what to do
about this feelin' runnin' thru me
And it would be so easy
just to take you in my arms
But our one and two
don't add up to three no more

Yeah. The truth, in bad grammar.

(no subject)

I look like people do in the movies when they have AIDS. There's still some dark stuff around my eyes because I couldn't wash it off last night, my eyes look exhausted normally anyway, and I'm sort of breaking out and I pick at my face too much so I have like four blotchy red sores on the side of my face, and I've been alternating too little sleep with too much sleep at the wrong time of day and I used up a lot of energy last night so my face is all drawn and pale. The first thing I thought when I looked in the mirror this morning to brush my hair for the CWIT meeting was "I look like I have movie AIDS" because I don't know how accurately the movies I've seen depict it.

It's weird to brush my hair again. I haven't actually had to brush it for at least a year. It's not like brushing it does any good but at least I've made the effort.

Hell. The consensus is apparently that I was hot, and I did have fun, even though my legs were shaking so badly I almost fell off the stage afterwards. Those damn shoes.

I feel like I should write something in OD but OD hates me lately and won't let me log in.

I had fucking bizarre dreams last night.

When we were walking back to the dorm, Jay and I were talking about the drag show and the whole genderqueer thing and he said I was cheating because my breasts are real. That was about a third of the reason I was a little reluctant to wear Lauren's shirt (the other two thirds were self-consciousness and I would have to shave my least favorite place to shave when I thought I would be able to get away with not doing it), but I thought about it and I'd like to maintain that a female-bodied genderfucked person wearing that is at least as "drag" as a gay man wearing a wig and a dress. It would honestly never occur to me to wear that in any other setting. So why is it cheating just because I can fill out a corset without resorting to newspaper?

And it's complicated being female-bodied in female clothes at a drag show. If you're in girl clothes, you're really a guy. If you're in guy clothes, you're really a girl. It's a little less clear-cut for me. The girl who was doing my makeup used male pronouns every time except once, and corrected herself that time, and I couldn't decipher the meaning of that because this whole binary thing means nothing to me. So I had no idea what all those faces were thinking, but I couldn't really see them anyway because of the spotlight, so who cares?

The only thing I wish I had done differently I thought of earlier today when I was playing it back in my head. There's a line, "guess how many fingers, okay!"--when I was practicing it I had been holding out fingers, but a couple of lines earlier at the actual performance I realized that isn't how you play that game. I'd been thinking like an inebriation test, not a guessing game. So when I got to that line, I put my hands behind my back and brought them out on "okay," which was much better. I don't remember how many fingers I held up, but what I should have done was bring out both middle fingers. Oh well.

I just realized, we had seven performers. Three kings, three queens, and me. Cute.

----

And I've been thinking. I can say "fuck the world" and do what I feel and have it be true, but at the same time, my perception of the world changes based on things people say and write. So I do really need honesty, whatever it is, because if I don't know the whole story I'll be out of synch with the world in a nasty way. I wasn't really sure what I was feeling until I read Liz's OD entry earlier, but now everything's alright. If she'd been wearing a tie I would have kissed her, but it would have been less an "you're amazing and I'm in love with you and I need to kiss you right now" kiss and more an "I'm going to kiss you now because the timing is right and I'm feeling brave and you look damn hot tonight and I want you but everyone here wants you and I love you and you're amazing but I know where the boundaries are and it's less of a problem every day even though I will probably never stop wanting you but you can't help that you have that effect on people" kiss. And yes, I can fit all that into a kiss--I just don't know if she would have understood all of it, and she wasn't wearing a tie, so I didn't. And now I know that for sure, after reading her entry, and it's alright. I just wasn't expecting the kiss after the show so I didn't have my guard up. But fuck having my guard up. I've never had my guard up around you, and that's part of the reason you affect me so deeply, but I refuse to run away or cheapen what we have and had by shielding from you, of all people, just because you still make my knees weak when you touch me. I'll just deal with it like everyone else does. I said I can take anything you dish out, and I mean it. And someday over the summer when I'm missing you I'll write a sex poem--no, a "fuck me or I'll fuck you" poem--and maybe get a little of this out of my system. Love, Rob. ;)