Ricky,
Woke up and wanted to write to you, so-- for old time's sake-- good morning, my love.
Remember that last day before the party, when we were walking alone by the lake beach up north, and you took my hand? I was so afraid of it, even though we were alone. Afraid but also so full of love for you, and even moreso in that moment, when you showed me again how to be brave. It's so difficult without you-- I find myself wishing I could teach Greg to be brave, but I worry I'm not brave enough myself to be able to accomplish much. I was at a far fancier beach recently, in Hawaii, and I found myself wishing you were there with me, that we could hold hands again and walk along the shore of paradise. You deserved to be there. To see it. I hope you saw things as beautiful as that before you had to go, even if you didn’t get to see them with me.
"I miss you always/when I go to the beach/the sand is wet with/tears that seem mine//although I never weep/and hold you in my/heart with a very real/humor you'd be proud of"
Luis used to read me Frank O'Hara poems in bed, and after we broke up I managed to keep his book of them. Even through everything with Lorenzo-- you wouldn't know about that really, of course, but if you did, you'd know how much it meant to me-- and then, once you and I got together, I got to read you Frank O'Hara poems in bed (I was always better at singing other peoples' love songs than making my own...). I read you the poem those couple stanzas are from-- Morning-- but they obviously wouldn't have had the same significance, then. Or the final stanza: "If there is a place further from me/I beg you do not go".
Death is about as far as it gets. I feel like I'm at peace with everything that happened with you now, and I usually am, but there are days it can still hurt in a way nothing can touch but time. I swear I can still feel the way your hand felt in mine that day. I love you so much and I always will.
Forever yours,
Julie
Finally back home! The guys were throwing a Halloween party at Nate’s new house and I got the crazy idea to go as Miss Marjan-- with the gold minidress, this time. Less exaggerated makeup than usual, though (and less high heels)... I wanted to be as accurately feminine as I could without using TOO much padding n’ extras. Nothing too cartoonish. As “natural” a nude look (makeup-wise, silly~!) as I can reasonably pull off, the exaggerations being necessary ones, the usual sorts of contouring tricks n’ things, some gold shimmer around the eyes, etc. Shaved my sideburns completely off, shaved/shaped my eyebrows a little bit extra, styled my hair (down, but blow-dried and brushed so it curled inward at the ends-- a decade out of fashion at this point, but it's Halloween!), wore my cute little "pearl"/"diamond" choker, clip-on earrings, some bracelets 'n rings, put my new REAL diamond stud in my nose (another ~indulgence~, I suppose, but it's so pretty...), glued fake nails on, cinched my waist, and that was that. If anyone asked who/what I was, I'd just throw Cher out there if I had to. I sort of was, I guess? I was Marjan who was going to the party as Cher, maybe. Ha.
Greg had never seen me in face until then, and I almost wish he had Lori with him, wished I wasn’t smart enough to ensure she wouldn’t be there, ‘cause I think I would’ve knocked her dead (I have my ways, now don’t I...~ To be a little less coy, I just have overheard enough of her and Greg's stupid conversations that I know she hates more sexed-up Halloween parties, and I assured her that, well... this IS a rock n' roll party. And she's seen a few of those already. She grimaced, told me she'd probably pass. And she did pass on it, the dear thing!). Greg was a bit confused as to why she didn't want to show up, and I was just as confused as he was :). I had a few drinks to make everything easier, but it didn’t matter; every time I was around him my heart started doing flips and jumps. The moment he saw me he ran a hand down my back till his hand hit dress-- so right above my ass-- and he shook his head, laughed. Said "Jesus christ, Jules" and I just beamed. That dress truly is perfect for me (and I’m proud of myself for making it that way, and still so thankful to Cryssie for helping). It makes people overlook so much because it accentuates the right things in just the right ways, I mean, I don't even have to make myself a bust; the way the dress is draped in the front makes my lack-of-tits read as itty-bitty-titties instead of no-tits-at-all. Makes things more efficient!
Once Greg got drunk enough he just slung his arm over my shoulder as a default position, which I obviously loved (and I tried my best not to check each reflection to see if my makeup was still okay). I did a good enough job on my makeup that none of the strangers gave me a second passing glance (Well, a couple ladies did, but only to giggle about my nose/ask if it was real... oooh, bitchy!), and once Greg noticed that as well, his hand was around my waist instead. Fuck it was hotter than I expected it to be, but not sure why I'm surprised-- I was all his for a night and he treated me that way (and I was still ME under all that), of course it was hot. Like Cinderella's night at the ball with her prince, except no midnight curfew.
Poor Nate though (he was a pirate, by the way, complete with fake parrot on the shoulder)! We bumped into him accidentally, and his jaw dropped and hung open for an awkward moment. "Uhhh, damn, Greg, who's that? Jules got a sister or cousin or somethin' he didn't tell us about?" (note to self: warn Anna about him) OH MY G-D. I could not help but burst out laughing immediately. Thankfully Greg was able to explain to him ("That IS Jules, you moron!"), and then his jaw was hung open again. He asked me how I "did that", and I just said-- makeup's a powerful thing, sweetheart! And so is this dress! And did a little runway model twirl. That innocent little babe (the only context I could call Nate such a thing!) just about died of embarrassment. To be fair to him, too, he wasn't the only one who assumed I was my own sister ("Hey, y'know if Jules made it here yet?" Oh I think he went to the restroom, ha ha! Cue big stupid grin up at Greg, who was such a good sport about my silliness at least). But it really did feel so good being the pretty thing hanging off Greg's arm (He's boring and didn't wear a costume, so I just called him Sonny), barely getting any second looks, a sort of going incognito-- incognita? Ha-- and such a fun one.
We did have sex after all that, too, in some guest bedroom, after quite a few drinks each. Sucked him and rode him in the dress and then out of it, in face and then out of it-- so I suppose, really, Marjan and I both had our fun with him. And I couldn’t help but wish we could’ve been loud about it, wish Lori was around having to hear it, wish she was there having to see it and see just how much I can drive him wild, how much more I can give him than she ever could. I came imagining it after he came, came so fucking hard from it, and I still feel so good, UGH. He wants me as a man, as a woman, as both, and I can give him both; I can fuck him and he can fuck me and I can sing to him and sing with him, be everything for him he could possibly fucking think of, and I think I showed him that more perfectly than I could’ve ever dreamed. I was so frustrated with Greg earlier, so pessimistic about my chances with him, so worried I already ruined everything, and now… wow. I feel like anything could happen, and that something GOOD just might!
Far too much happens in the world when I'm on tours, I'm learning. --Hell, not even just the world, just my STATE. I get back and have my friends over for coffee (or beers, etc) and ask them to fill me in and I feel ashamed for not knowing things already, dread at how many of those things are negative, shame again at not really being able to do anything about those things. Like the one gay politician there was in San Francisco-- a councilmember-- was murdered by a cop last year, the cop was let off the hook, and there were riots about it after the verdict with cop cars burning, windows smashed, people beaten and arrested, etc. People shaking their heads more about the burning cars and smashed windows than the guy who was murdered by someone who's allegedly supposed to be around to keep the peace (HA, I have enough firsthand experience with them to know better). I mean, if I was in the thick of it, I could understand being afraid of getting hurt from a thrown rock, or afraid of a fire catching and setting the whole city ablaze, but that didn't happen, and a guy's still dead for no reason. So much of the seventies (now that I can look back, as they end) has been about clawing back the good of the sixties.
I'd ask Pam what I should do about it but I'm afraid she'll want me to do a torching of my own, to try to use my growing ~fame~ to shine a light on the goings-on in a way that I know'll just burn me in the end and leave me less able to help in big ways in the future (especially with Walt to worry about...). Maybe I can learn about various organizations or causes that need cash and donate to those-- offer my own kind of quiet fuel. That's it, I'll ask Pam about that instead.
PS: Sometimes I wish I could write lyrics about things like this but I'm so afraid of it sounding or being completely trite. I think a bad political song is worse than no political song at all, and I don't think I'm nearly good enough a writer to pull it off. I don't think Walt would let it get on an album even if it was good, anyway.
Finally got to listen to some of the LPs I picked up from Germany and KNEW I needed to show Sam the one from CAN-- Future Days. It can get abstract, swirly, strange, but the percussion keeps it all together-- INCREDIBLE jazz drumming-- and I knew he’d love that. We went to LR first, because I very much don’t take it for granted that I have a ~bandmate~ that would appreciate it. We both got some action, and I got to help him get his, but that part was still mostly separate. Turns out we have similar types n’ preferences when it comes to men, so neither of us feel particularly compelled to go with each other. It’s nice having something like that, something so drama-free.
Went back to my place after that, smoked ourselves into a stupor, and let Future Days wash over us. And he did like it, thankfully! Then again, I guess pot makes plenty of things likable. It sadly doesn’t gel well with dancing, though, and the title track and Moonshake are SO danceable… maybe next time!
Holidays soon... hopefully everyone is well. Hopefully I don't fuck anything up (I seem to do that a good half of the time, somehow...). I hope things with Greg really are good again. The way he fucked me was SO... so, so real. It wasn't *just* sex. You know? I know I gave him something more than just that.
It's strange being alone. ...Uncomfortable. I have too many damn thoughts. So much to worry about. I can't just smoke them away, or drink them away, or snort them away. They keep me up too much to be able to sleep them away. Ugh, it's so good that none of them know how crazy I can get. I hope they never know. I've been too crazy lately even in here. I know it. I usually try my best not to write it. ...oh well. Holidays. Right. I can handle that.