All the press people are asking about the nose ring now too of course, and I should've figured that. But it's a very simple answer, which is: I just thought it would look good! And it does! Noses are made of cartilage just like ears are! --There's been a few mutterings about THIS being the thing that makes me ACTUALLY gay, but I've just laughed at that like I always do, 'cause at this point I know they're just trying to rile things up for the sake of it. Ended up saying something like, I just do what I think is cool without asking a bunch of consultants first, and that's what rock n' roll is about, right? ("Yeah, and in another year half the teenagers in America'll have nose rings and you'll be the scourge of parents everywhere!", said Rory, "And that's ACTUALLY what rock n' roll is about.") Also gave some made up story about seeing a bunch of punk rockers on the east coast with piercings on their faces and getting inspired by that, then made a nose joke before anyone else could.
The photoshoots can get a bit tedious and there's a lot more of 'em this year but the solo portrait type ones allow me to express myself in a way that's a little more honest than the way I have to carry myself otherwise (of course, even that is a very case-by-case basis sort of thing; a lot of it is still decided in advance by the people setting the shoot up). One of them even put me in... kind of drag? Almost drag?? Very glammy, in any case--some outlets are more willing to play up my androgyny (that's already staring them smack in the face) than others-- very tempting to work it like it was fully drag, but knew it wouldn't have been a good idea. Some expect me to bare more skin than I'd expected, and I felt more nauseous n' nervous about that than I thought I would. I guess being sexy in person gives you a lot more control. You're only seen by people you want to see you (or close to it). If it's pictures.... well, anyone can see it. I don't like that so much. I don't feel like explaining to Mom or Granddad or whatever why I'm half-naked or wearing visible makeup and a long kimono robe thing (kind of a mock-up of that one Bowie cover, come to think) open but unrevealing (but still open) reclined on some fancy couch thing on a magazine cover they saw at a department store or what-have-you. None of the half-naked ones'll be used for cover stuff, at least. I made sure of that.
At the same time, my nausea still annoyed me. It shouldn't bother me as much as it did and I hope it doesn't bother me so much in the future. I think it just reminds me of too much. I used to have to look certain ways and do certain things just to survive, you know? I wasn't able to think much of it back then because I would've gone nuts if I did, so thinking about it now just makes me angry. So why think about it?
PS: My favorite, if it turns out well, was a profile-angle (YES, a profile! Apparently Walt's word isn't always law, ha) where I was wearing a red satin shirt, my hair was gathered over my shoulder, and I was holding this big spray of yellow snapdragon-looking flowers so that they were resting over my other shoulder, with my head tilted a bit upwards. ...It might also be my favorite because it needed the least amount of takes to get just-so. It DOES get boring, even if you do get to wear nice clothes...
Lots of visits lately! Well, two, but very close together-- Mom n' Marv, first! I warned her ahead of time about the nose ring, even tho I was nervous even about the idea of telling her... when she saw it, she said she still wished I didn't do it, but it did look nice on me. "But only because you're so handsome already!" Ha. I made her what she'd made me prior to getting my teeth sort-of fixed (tahdig, meatballs, ghanoush, etc). Got a real nice Bordeaux to go with it. She liked it well enough, but said the meatballs could've been spiced less and the ghanoush more. Oh well. There's always something, but then again, like she always says, there's ALWAYS room for improvement.
She was like that walking around the place, too, but it was more funny, then, 'cause I could tell she was just in a mood (and she was just trying to be helpful). Oh, she likes the couch and the general arrangement of my furniture but doesn't prefer my taste in art...? HA! Oh well! I can take that far better than the critiques of my cooking, honestly. And it's easier to find it funny when it's my own place. I do have a couple prints of Bacon pieces (ha, what a phrase... but I mean Francis!) hanging up, and he is morbid generally as an artist, it seems-- I was so drawn to them despite that, or maybe because of it, because it was so new to me. I've got the screaming pope one, which was particularly "ugly", she said. I told her I could understand why she saw it that way, but it was intense in a way that interested me. "And you just have that out? For all your guests??" Yep!-- I was saying all these things as confident as I could, but my heart was still pounding out of my chest and I was trying my best not to shake. Trying my best to be brave. Thinking of Anna and Pammie and Casey.
Marv told her that she shouldn't be surprised at my taste in art after sending me off to college, that she could've just sent me to trade school instead the way HE wanted, and I told him that -I- wanted to go to college, to which he replied "And when has letting you get your way gone anywhere good?", which finally rattled me for long enough for Mom to save me and break everything up by exclaiming how nice my television was. And they sedated themselves with an hour of the 'tube, and I could finally breathe. --Marvin ended up scooping a good amount of leftovers up for me before they left despite their inadequate spicing. I don't know why these things end up so tense half the time. I don't know what the hell I'm doing wrong 'til they tell me. Ugh. All I can do is try my best, I know. I just wish my best were better. I also wish I wasn't so rattled by what Marv said, because getting in this band was getting my way, and that's been going damn fucking well!! Singing at LR was getting my way, too, and that went beautifully until something took it away by chance. Some would say fate, and sometimes I worry about that, but then I wonder if fate's all it's cracked up to be after all. I go back and forth on so much. I can be proud of myself for not turning into a shrinking violet because of Marv, though. When I lived with them it was difficult not to. Something about the nose ring really has gotten me a little bolder...
Pammie's visit was a lot nicer. Don't have petals/buds from my own rose bushes yet, of course, but still had some saved from Granddad's garden, so made us some rose tea and we split my portion of the leftover tahdig/etc. Incidentally, she happened to like my art choices! The electric kettle's also been working well for her, which was good to hear. Got to show her some of the photos I showed Mom from the last tour, told her about how annoying the other band we had along with us half the time was, how silly ~rock n' roll macho~ can be, etc. She asked how I was holding up in the middle of it all, and I told her I hung in there, which I did! Compromised some, but not too badly, I don't think.
I told her that the worst part about it was still the silly fake last name, which we'd already talked about on the phone at some point earlier. I said I hoped that if we got big enough, I could just go back to Rajani. She said that big meant famous, too, and asked if that had already started to become a problem. Not a problem yet! Only a quirk. A few people in a grocery store recognizing me out shopping, or things like that. "And if you get 'big enough', it's going to be the whole grocery store knowing who you are. The bigger you get the less sense it'll make to switch it back." She's so blunt sometimes that I can't even begin to get frustrated with her. Well-- I WILL begin to, but then it'll short-circuit everything and I'll give up and give in.
When I first met her I was so used to having to meticulously tailor so much of what I say to who I was saying it to that her bluntness scared me-- now I know it's just a quirk of hers, and one I often appreciate. We're alike in some ways, but very opposite in others, and one of those ways is how book-smart and level-headed she is. She often tries to get me to read more, and especially more non-fiction, and I do actually like to read when I can't sleep or when I get cravings for anything, but I rarely actually finish books... I get more out of talking to Pammie and Casey than I do out of reading, I feel, but I know Pam would find that limiting. I dunno. It's hard for me to focus on one topic for too long. And then of course I can be quite emotional, especially compared to her. And my moods can be so hard to pin down, and I can be so impulsive on acting on them... she doesn't give a damn what she looks like, while I spend an hour plus in the bathroom every morning. We're certainly an odd couple, ha ha. She was among the ones not very crazy about me joining the band (and how and when I did it), but by this point, she's at least happy that I'm in such a stable place for once and recognizes that my work is what got me there.
So, yes: still some disagreements, still some tensions at times, but nothing nearly close to boiling over, smoothed out far more easily. I was so glad to see all of them... I just wish both visits were as nice as the one with Pam. There is a reason we've been friends for so long, through everything I've been through.
Technically made my first real "mistake" during a live interview. And honestly, I'm not nearly as mortified at myself as I thought I would be. Because the "mistake" was telling the truth! We're a ~rock band~, see, so we're supposed to hate anything to do with disco. The topic came up tho and I said there IS talent in disco, it's just that a lot of it's very clearly black, often female and black. And more and more, unfortunately, that's not what people even hear on radio, that it's more and more of the churned out ducky novelty dreck that pulls us all down into the muck. Also that I wear my black and female influences on my sleeve alongside my other ones, I have enough DJ and record shop friends at this point to find the good deep cuts of anything, and I'm confident in our band's abilities to make good music and succeed, so I'm not afraid of even the worst disco! --This, apparently, was "bringing politics into things". This, apparently, is a no-no. I tried to explain to Walt why this would be a very difficult rule to follow, that most everything is political somehow when you think about it, and he just waved me off with an "alright already, college boy". Guess I just keep my mouth shut if the topic comes up again. It's so silly, though. I mean, I was mostly trying to say how confident I was in US! To SURVIVE changes in trends, including disco! Ugh. Whatever.
Sam went up to me later to talk w/me about disco and soul and jazz-- the latter being his avenue into pop/rock work-- and it was very refreshing. And even later on, Nate (sheepishly) asked for some recommendations-- HA. I know I'm swiftly becoming the "problem child" at this point but when haven't I been, you know? At this point, too, I feel as though I'm well-liked enough that I can try and throw my weight around a little and see how it goes. How much remains to be seen, and I may already be pushing up against some limits, but until then...!
Also: Mamaji learned about the nose ring and cussed me out in Farsi for a minute straight over the phone, blahblahblah ~Indian women~ wear those, not ~Farsi men~ blahblahblah ~what would your Grandfather think~ blahblahblah. Oh well. I told her there are far worse things I could've done or could've happened to me (In stumbling Farsi myself, but I tried; hell, I even threw a "Royajoon" in there), and she went off swearing again (But she thanked me for trying Farsi. I knew she would). She'll calm down eventually. As will anyone else. At least she's stopped talking about how in "the old country" I'd have gotten a marriage arranged for me already. I do hope I don't have to see Granddad anytime soon tho... he WOULD probably slap me at the very least if he saw me like this. Of course, I just made quite a bit of money in just a year's worth of work, and I can always shove that in his face. I'm providing for myself and soon can even help out with a lot of family issues, and isn't that what he says he cares about most in the end?
PS: G-d now that I think of it Walt calling me "college boy"/etc reminds me of Granddad sneering at me (or worse) for doing things like learning Hebrew (even tho I HAD to) or even just for having read classic fiction in English for high school (and again... I HAD to). I told him I could learn more Portuguese and read classic Portuguese fiction if that'd make him feel better, and I was sincere about it but Granddad took it as backtalk (a language he REALLY understood) and responded in kind. Well, at least Walt can't backhand me.
[lil author's note: "joon" is a farsi/persian honorific!]