Wednesday, October 19, 2005

the candy corn threshold

since autumn, and more importantly halloween, is approaching, i would like to bring up one of the least discussed subjects on earth. and one i have given many hours of thought to with no clear answer. candy's dandy (but liquor is quicker). i crave candy.

i'm not a chocoholic, like many of my female friends out there. i like sugar, and in copius amounts. suckers are tops, but i will enjoy anything covered in or loaded with that lovely confectionary substance. starburst, jelly beans, jolly ranchers, mike and ikes, it doesn't matter. and i can eat lots of it, in one sitting, without the nagging tummyache that i used to get as a child. i've conditioned myself, you might say.

but there is one candy that can only be eaten in small amounts, the only candy of it's kind, and that is candy corn. why is that? i could ingest (and i have) a half pound of gummy bears in a flash, and still be ready for m&ms. but for some reason beyond my comprehension, candy corn is lethal. you're enjoying it, and suddenly you become violently ill when you have that one too many. why doesn't any other form of sugar behave like this? what makes candy corn different? it matters not whether you eat them whole, or, like i do, bite off the colored sections individually. there is a candy corn tolerance threshold, and i have crossed it. and i will again this year.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

the journey of self pleasure

I first discovered masturbation at 17, in a sweaty, ebbing crowd of hundreds at a club in Denver. I was pressed up against the stage, my chest forced into the metal barrier, my eyes fixed on the frontman of one of the most underrated bands in rock history.

Near the end of the set as the song drew on, he slowly backed himself upstage, just at the side of the drum kit, and stood staring into nothing, head cocked to one side. I watched as a long line of drool pulled away from the corner of his mouth and fell, slowly, to the wood floor at his feet. My eyes dropped to his waist, where his hand disappered behind the hem of his jeans. Still drooling, eyes still frozen on the ceiling over our heads, he remained absolutely still, with the exception of the hand, stroking himself in the shadows. Any naive wonderment of what might actually be occurring faded quickly as I noticed the color of flesh, and small, furious movement. To be sure I wasn't taken over by strange delusions, I looked at the crowd on either side of me, and nobody seemed to notice. Most eyes were on the band, facing backward to preempt any injury from the pit at our backs, or engaged in conversation with people standing next to them. Surely, I thought, the first two rows could see him from the waist down, and anyone else could only see his face, if they could see him at all. I looked up at him again, and back to the strangers at my sides. I saw a girl, much older than myself, who by her expression was seeing the same thing I was. She felt me looking, and turned and caught my eye. Her look of bewilderment mixed with pleasure made me wonder whether I was aroused or disturbed. I looked back at the stage just as he came, and he stood for a long time before he shuffled slowly back up to the mic.

I met up with a friend in the now blazing light of the littered and emptying auditorium. He was elated, obviously unaware that I wasn't focused on him. He was talking too fast for me too keep up, wasn't the show great? God, they rock. Did you love it? Where were you? I've been looking for you for an hour... And I stood, and asked him, still second guessing what I had seen.

"Did you watch him masturbate?"


"Mike Patton."

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me? When?"

And I didn't answer, but turned around and headed towards the queue at the back. My friend's questions faded into the sound of ringing in my head, and I watched the ground 3 feet in front of me as I walked, wondering what to feel.

Friday, October 7, 2005

shedding the past

A lot of shit has gone down lately, and i felt like it was constantly at my back, like my shadow. So i held a ritual in a friend's kitchen last night around midnight, with a cocktail and a pair of shears. I cut off all my hair.

All my life, I'd had long hair. I've hidden behind it, in a way. It's always been my security blanket. Most everyone I know has said, "OH, never cut your hair! you're so pretty with it!" as though it were my only decent feature. So i got hooked on the idea that it was the only thing that made me appealing to men, and I hate it that i let people do that to me, or let me do that to myself. Let's face it, men love long hair. Long haired women are sexy. But none of the rest of me is conventional, so why live with the hair that's been following me around for three decades? I'm in a new state, living a new life, i figured I would make it official.

I couldn't see what she was cutting, but I could feel it. And we both knew how short it was going to be. I patiently waited and chatted and sipped for about an hour. And when she finally told me to get up, I would have a chance to look in her mirror. I expected to cry. I felt awful, because I knew it was coming, and I didn't want her to think I wasn't grateful. It's just bittersweet to lose something that you've clung to for so long.

Before I stood up, I ran my fingers through it, and my heart stopped. I didn't want to get up, i just wanted to live my life in that kitchen chair, bent over, staring at remnants on my hair around my feet. I sat bent over, much like the emergency position you're supposed to assume during an airplane emergency, and concentrated on breathing. And finally, I stood up, and I looked in the mirror. And I waited to cry.

But I didn't.

In fact, the smile hasn't left my face. I feel lighter than I did yesterday, I catch myself walking differently. I shed the last year, the last 30 years, of change, confusion, and stress, and now I'm left with fuzzy soft locks that I can't stop touching. All those people who told me not to cut my hair should see me now. My hair is hot, yes. But the glow that came with it was worth the wait, and infinitely hotter than my long hair ever was...