The other day I was trying to explain to a new friend the mania that many of my friends and I have for documenting our lives. I told him that life was better when documented, re-articulated, and well-lit. This is how to create present nostalgia.

I stayed in for most of the weekend and wrote, which really means writing a few sentences, taking some notes, and then checking my email obsessively every ten minutes or so. But all that aside, it went well. I'm on the same track tonight and I'm happy to be inside. Something Ali said the other day haunted the crude portion of my brain that can't help but glom onto superstitions...he said something along the lines of, "Some people say that what you are doing on New Years is what you'll be doing the rest of the year." What a thought...while I spend every New Years with some of the best people in this universe (not sure about the other universes), I'm usually holding on to a grain of discontent, some regret for the slowness of my personal achievements. Sometimes, even though I am logistically in the best possible place with the best possible people, I still feel like a shrimp plate at a Bar Mitzvah. So-and-so's girlfriend thinks I'm obnoxious. Why does everybody hate me? I might have brain damage. Did I leave the stove on? But I guess that's just part of the chemical make-up (Prozac and Ativan only dull the edges into what someone once told me was a "quirky personality type", as though that could be found in the DSM IV). I can't exactly obliterate that from my consciousness and arise a different person. I wouldn't want to. But I do know what I want and (as the Sex Pistols once said) I know how to get it. It has a lot to do with staying home and writing, appreciating my friends, and to be doing something on New Years that I would want to do for the rest of the year. I'll be with some of the best people in the universe and I'll know where I am.
So really, here's the challenge...I want to be present.
Today's Meditations:

Check out AdAge's "10 ADS AMERICA WON'T SEE." The brains one is my favorite...note the filmic references to Darren Aronofsky.

Did you know "CC hates the Jews"?


Merry XXXmas
What did I do with my time off of work? Finish that novel? NO! I updated the Naughty Flapper site! More smoking flappers! More be-gartered flappers! More snake-charming flappers! Ho ho ho...etc.
Lisa took some rad pictures of the Black and Blue Burlesque at the last tingle tangle. Yes, it's as fun as it looks.


Today’s Meditations:

“Life is an obscure hobo bumming a ride on the omnibus of art.”

Jane is a 100% cool.

Jason P. should not let me play with his camera.

The News:

"Fresno Noir" has been reprinted on The Outside World's website!
A cab driver just told me that I look like a kid walking around in a grown-up's body. I didn't know if I should have been offended or flattered or afraid that he was on to me...when will I feel like I'm in the right body? I gotta stop taking so many cabs. It's too expensive and too existential.
I was coming home from Ariela's Chanukah party, which was quite nice and, of course, documented with the Spycam! This year my plans to go back to the 'No were canceled due to my cat Maggie's respiratory infection, so it was nice to be able to light the candles with some Jews and assorted others. In the past I've always been with my family or a significant other for the holidays. So far this year, it's been me and Maggie...and her respiratory infection. By the way, she's doing much better.


What would the end of 2003 be without another death? Desmond just informed me that a high school acquaintance of ours committed suicide, leaving a wife and a four-year-old kid. Good bye 2003 and good riddance. Nobody is allowed to die in 2004, ok?


Thursday the 18th many friends are playing in many bands:
Heavenly States
$7 cover
Bottom of the Hill
1233 17th Street (17th @ Missouri)

AND more friends on Friday the 19th:
Citizens Here and Abroad
The Hemlock Tavern
1131 Polk @ Post

Who's coming with me?


This past Friday I was both honored and just a little bit offended to be chosen by Jason D. (sex journalist and klezmer clarinet giant) to accompany him to the "industry-only" official opening of the Alex de Renzy library at the Institute for Advanced Studies of Human Sexuality of San Francisco. I think I was the only one he could think of that would actually go with him to a place called the Institute for Advanced Studies of Human Sexuality, but that makes me a lucky gal! I've got to say that this was the most interesting party I've ever been to in a library.
I had been uninitiated to the magnum opus of Alex de Renzy, but apparently he is considered the "Cecile B. Demille of porno" for the 70's. After he died two years ago, a great deal of his memorabilia and films were donated to the Institute -- hence the huge, plastic-cups-full-of-Cooks gala.
Naturally, I hit this party undercover, as I am a master of disguise. And I brought the spycam. And a pen. And a note book. Really, you can't take me anywhere. I'm a huge weirdo. Even in a setting like this.
The first thing I noticed was how the majority of the party-goers seemed to be in their 60's. It didn't make sense to me until, after being there for a few minutes, a nice older woman pointed to a screen projecting a young woman in a sling being gang-raped ("Pretty Peaches" 1978) and exclaimed, "That's me!" I was amongst geriatric porn star royalty! Jason started to point out a few others in the room that could be recognized from their work on the screens. One of them was lifting her shirt, using her pendulous breasts to illustrate a point in her cocktail conversation. MOM! Stop that!
The Institute's library is a dark, labyrinthine mess of rooms of varying sizes. We wandered the stacks, picking out titles at random and accusing each other of it being their favorite book. Suddenly Jason and I found ourselves at a brightly lit doorway. A man that looked like he was about to sell us some insurance said, "Welcome to the Anal Room!" Here we learned that de Renzy entered an anal phase in the 80's, went by the name of Rex Borski and turned to video, churning out several anal-themed movies a week. Most notable title from the boxes on display: "Mocha Honey Tunnel." A screen in the Anal Room was playing out a scene of several couples with bad 80's hair going at it all over a rather banal couch in front of a Christmas tree. A young woman who had entered the room behind me gasped. "That's my family room!" This was de Renzy's daughter. I hope they got rid of that couch.
After that party, we went to after-party for a cabaret show, and then another party at an all-night speakeasy/sweater shop. You know, the usual.


Last night’s all-girl-fiction-review workshop convened for Mai Tais instead of writing, which I found equally as productive. And Malca agrees with me that Jews don’t ski. Affirmation of life-long beliefs is important.
I had an idea for a list-writing experiment that I wanted to try out on everyone last night, but the Mai Tais came in pint glasses. Nuff said. Maybe we can all do it bloggy style instead? Here’s the assignment:
“Things you should know about me…(disclaimers?)”
Ok, don’t take longer than 5 minutes. Here’s mine:

1. I can speak about my insecurities with confidence.
2. I have all of the hang-ups of Kafka, with none of the talent.
3. I swallow more pills a day than food.
4. Sometimes I forget what I look like.
5. I don’t do spelling.
6. My head hurts all of the time.
7. I’d bake everyone in the whole world cookies if I had an oven and an unlimited supply of ingredients.
8. My ideal mate has more in common with Gizmo of “Gremlins” than any actual human.

Ok…my times up. Your turn…


Today's Meditations:

: Huge collection of photos of silent film stars. Check out the awesome Theda Bara pages.

The Hebrew Hammer: It's good to see Andy Dick back in circulation...sort of. Thanks for this one Paul! And Desmond is going to tape it for me tonight. What a Mensch.

For those who are feeling as unmoored as I do these days: Online tarot card readings.

Dory says everyone should try this:
"go to google
type in miserable failure
click i'm feeling lucky"


I'm realizing more and more that when I'm lonely I hide. Today I wanted to walk around with a little cave over me. Sartre said that hell is other people. He was certainly right on with that one, but part of me somehow remains convinced that heaven is as well.

So in other news (I really have to get a new transitional phrase), everyone has their birthday in December. If you see Lisa or Ali or Woody Allen or Jeff Bridges, give them a cake. Last night's Tingle-Tangle (sorry for getting your spelling wrong before, Sol!) was a December birthdays celebration and Robin Coomer (of Loop Station fame) sang the swingingest version of Happy Birthday that I've ever heard.
Friday Nanos Operetta played a packed house at Galia. They wore matching suits and played like maniacs (the good kind). Max and Ali promised that some time in the future Nanos will perform in matching scarves like Scarf Boy for me. They know how I get around scarves.
So If you missed that show on Friday, you have another chance to see them this Wednesday with Loop Station:
Amnesia, 853 Valencia @ 19th.
Show starts 9-ish.
$5... or $3 if you wear a pith helmet.



Dear Audra,

Today I found the duke you left in someone's computer.


p.s. I am serious; we found a turd in this lady's computer.

I think Pat is serious. For those of you unfortunate enough to NOT be from Fresno, let’s address the part of this letter that has to do with hiding a duke. It’s a quaint small-town custom that involves hiding your feces in someone’s house (say, like at a party), and then tipping the host off anonymously by leaving a note somewhere for him or her to find. Just for the record, I’ve never hid the proverbial duke, but about six months ago Ali, David, and I went to Jezebel’s Joint and really hated the DJ…naturally, Ali and I (Fresnan) convinced David (non-Fresnan) to deliver a note to the DJ. Then we ran. The note read:

Dear Mister DJ:
I hid a duke.
(lipstick smear added per Ali’s request)

I guess that dude is probably still wondering why David handed him that note.
I just trolled the internet for any documentation on duke hiding, and this is all I came up with --> some fellow’s log blog. And I thought I needed therapy.
If anyone has any additional information on the tradition of hiding a duke, please share as this is an open forum.


Cat and Girl: That Mike Guy said this particular comic reminds him of a conversation we once had. The two of us kind of look like that too.

Cat and Laibach: That Mike Guy like this one too.

I think he's sorry that he called me a neurotic drug addict and I think I'm sorry I called him a drunk. Now he's in India.



I knew there was a reason I liked Canada. Here's a recent email from a fellow in Ontario:


You are my favourite model
I am one of your many fans. You have a stunning figure and are are cute too. I am sure you get tons of fan mail. I bet it gets boring. Would you mind sending me a photo? Any chance of it being in colour? How about one of your gorgeous figure . You have a cute smile. Your legs look fantastic. Would you mind signing the photo and sending it to me.

On the other hand, Evansville, Indiana is sounding better all the time:

Dear Audra, I am probably the sole member (so far) of your Evansville, Indiana fan club. I have been a secret admirer of yours since your pictures appeared in Wireless. But now have decided to come out. I worried about you since you didn't appear on your news site in September and I didn't know about your blogspot.
You hardly ever smile in your pictures. Why is that?
Until next time God willing -
Best Regards,

Thanks for the mail, peeps.

See, I smile sometimes.