So busy but I ended that page on such a dour note so I feel obligated to say that band business has cured me more than anything else, so far. Thank G-d. There's just SO much to do all the time there's no time to dwell. And it's all been such a wonderful reminder, too, of how successful we've been. I've been wallowing so much, but it's impossible to when there's a crowd screaming ecstatically in front of you, and you know you're the reason why.
And we haven't even officially hit the road yet-- I actually DID win the cute state music award this year! And I looked cute for it this time, too! Wore a deep red suit (the lapels were real velvet!) w/white dress shirt and thin black tie[26] n' matching suspenders, tailored the way I wanted (slim, ~androgynous~ cuts). I'm not as actively bitter right now, but I still like to get my fuck-you's in when I can, and looking cute is always good revenge. Just a *little* makeup; subtle eyeliner, light foundation n' a bit of contouring, enough to make my eyes and cheeks pop a bit. Shied away from the diamond stud and went for a plain metal ring instead for the nose; didn't want to tip the scales TOO far (tho even this made Walt have a little fit. Oh well!).
I was so happy Mom and Marv got to be there. I almost choked up looking out and seeing her beaming at me in the audience while I was up there saying my thank you's. The award doesn't mean much to me, but seeing her so happy, making her so happy, made me feel better than I had in weeks. To her this is our dream-- something she worked so hard for for so long alongside me, struggled so much to get me-- realized. Everything was worth it. And even if the award itself doesn't mean a lot, being recognized for my voice and how I use it feels good, too. Even if it's state-level, California's a big state! I was fairly confident in my abilities before joining the band, but it's still been very gratifying, surprisingly so, to have others share that confidence in me. I think it lets me get away with more than I might otherwise, honestly. Which, hey-- I'll certainly take it for now!
Linda was good for keeping up my resolve around Greg while I was home, but she's not on tour with me, is she? He told me he wanted to give me a good time before he had to go. That he'd miss me, despite all this "being for the best". --The best for him, maybe (and even then...). For me? For the band??
I feel ashamed of it now but at the time I was shameless: I loved kissing him, I loved that I got him to kiss me back, to still want me like this. So much for being ~more in love than he's ever been in his life~, I guess. In the middle of kissing him I thought about how I couldn't stop him from getting married, but I had thought before about doing a little something about his leaving, and there the chance was in front of me again-- and really, in the end, what's better: sitting at home or on the sidelines waiting for your man, or creating and performing and singing with your man, getting closer to perfection in each other each time? So whatever, have your marriage. I have what's really important, and hopefully Greg'll figure that out, too.
We fucked like nothing had ever happened between us, like I hadn't hated his guts for the past year, like I didn't hate him a little even now. Hell, I even let him take me from behind for awhile, but I still finished riding him. I needed to look into his eyes while I made him cum (and I couldn't help but ask him if he liked it, I couldn't help but tease him, hold that release over his head til he gave me a "yes" that sounded just the way I wanted). I was so tempted, after he came with that same stupid eye-rolling face he always makes, to ask him how I compared to Lori. Hell, I might still ask him one of these times. Now would be too early. A little like how asking Walt to pull some strings the way he did with Al's departure won't work, either-- Walt might like Nate the most out of all of us, but he respects Greg the most. We had a mutual dislike of Al. No such luck here, and even if there were, would I be able to get over the dirtiness that would inevitably come from whatever Walt's methods ended up being? He may have already figured Greg to be an allowable sacrifice: I mean, he already kinda did with his hiring of me, right? And everyone else loves Greg, too; there’s no way I’m moving the needle on that. So no, I can't influence things on that end. It's just me, my personality, my voice, my dick, and my ass. The sex was good enough to make me want to try. I am such an idiot and Linda is well within her rights to slap me in the face if she ever catches wind of any of this.
Japan is probably now my favorite place to tour (ok tied with England because of Robby and a few other things) if only because of the fabulous, cute little kimono tops you can get there in this amazing underground mall thing. Maybe someday they'll catch on in the states. Maybe I can be the trend setter, who knows! I feel so nice 'n flouncey in them and they're so fun to spin around in but they're "rock star" enough to not blatantly read "faggot", which is what Walt cares about, and I suppose I should too for my own good-- but I always want to tell him that what starts out as "faggot" always seems to become "rock star" eventually anyway, perhaps because there's enough quiet crossover between those categories that eventually complete meatheads are wearing leather collars or their sisters' blouses.
Anyway, they're just long enough to cover my butt so they're fun to wear tied up w/o pants + a little thong when I'm not on stage; very flirty (in other words, easy to transition from rockstar to faggot and back again). I also was able to suss out where to find a little bit of gay Tokyo this time.... just the slightest bit, but was able to score some really nice ~art~ (some of it in scrolls like actual Japanese art, tho, so I say that counts!). American gays like our cowboys and bikers, Japanese gays like their samurais and sumos[27]! Love love love.
A few days ago, back in the states, I waited for someone in my hotel room (we have singles now sometimes! Makes it a lot easier to REALLY get fucked)-- young guy w/loose dirty-blond curls, early twenties, with a cute not-quite-full mustache, lean body, beautiful HUGE cock. Small very-blond hairs that went down the nape of his neck, glistening with sweat, so perfect to lick and kiss. Adorable little southern accent. It was SO fun being the older-- ahem-- EXPERIENCED queen, playing with his eagerness and nervous excitement, sitting on the edge of the bed in one of those little kimonos (a shoulder shrugged out, just completely debauched, yknow) and nothing else, not even a thong, one leg crossed high over the other, plastic cup of white wine in my hand like it was a fancy glass and what a thrill that was!
UGH he really was such a darling; I called him "Cowboy" because it was one of those very rare times where you lock eyes with someone in the audience and end up in bed with them, and during the show, he had a cowboy hat on. It revved him up, tho (when I was flirting with him in the beginning and when I was moaning it out during), so it was extra fun! Plus I got to ask what kind of gun he was packing for me n' stick a hand down his jeans-- he got confident then, of course, undid his fly and shimmied everything down himself with an understandably-smug little smile, and I'd been fully controlled up 'til then, but I couldn't help the look on my face seeing it swing out, or how near-hypnotized I got seeing him stroke it. So I also got to polish his gun (with my mouth n' throat) and.... ride it...? Or, alternatively, more coherently, I rode Cowboy. And he was so good for it all that he got to fuck me ass-up to finish; tied my wrists together with my shirt when asked, held it like reins, and just had at me. Gave me a few good hard smacks, even. UGH it was such a relief I didn't have anywhere else to be that night. --Especially because the poor thing had a hard time undoing the knot he made of my shirt sleeves, and I didn't want him to ruin my new shirt trying to untie me, so I wanted him to go slowly with it anyway. Imagine if he left me all tied up for room service to find! HA! Thankfully not.
But anyway! At least I'm on an upswing. There are times where sex just makes me feel terrible about myself (or it feels terrible) and then other times where I can't get enough of it. I'd been in the former mood ever since everything w/Greg but then I got 15 of those little kimonos[28] and I'm back to feeling so wonderfully sexy in the exact way I want to and I want Greg to see it and I want it to eat him alive (if he eats me at some point, all the better). Regardless though, here's hoping that lasts a decent while and I get 30 different eyes for my 15 different shirts (or hmmm.... 15 different tops for my 15 different tops? HA)....!
PS: Also got a few leotards half for comfort's sake and half because some of them are kind of thong-ish and show off my cock n' ass and nobody's the wiser till my jeans are off, and I actually *have* been doing squats and things so all that's lookin' nice. :) They look like they'll be fun to get blown in, too...
It blows my mind just how awful I was doing only months ago, how close I was to relapsing, how close I felt I was to going fully off the deep end. I feel SO much better now, like I could do fucking anything, and not even the situation with Greg can keep me down. I mean, the situation with Greg now is I've been getting him to myself first most nights anyway and I KNOW, even if he can't admit it to himself, even if he's too much of a damn coward to throw caution to the wind and leave his precious white picket fence dreams behind, that I satisfy him better than anyone can. I've seen him cum with women and I've seen and felt him cum with/on/in me, and only one of those scenarios has him sound and feel so gorgeously aching and desperate and lost in the moment... fuck I love that I can do that to him, that all it takes is a closed-locked hotel door and a certain look and touch and tone of voice and he's in the palm of my hand. It's a better high than speed. I'm proving a point, and it gets proven more and more conclusively every time his eyes roll back and he finishes on/in me. How the FUCK can he leave this behind (no pun intended... or is it? HA!)? He can't. I know it.
He says he's exhausted with touring, and I can very much understand that, but for now, I can give him relief after most shows, when he needs it, and for next time, we could try and figure out how to make things less gruelling. I mean, that'd be in MY interest, too; I want to preserve my voice as well as I can and the longer these tours go on the more I know it isn't sustainable. I'm fine for now, sound and feel amazing for now, at the end of nearly every show I feel like I and the rest of us burned down the house, but I'm nearly 31 and know it's only a matter of time. Walt doesn't understand that and would be very happy if we could just churn out performances like robots, but sadly for him, even robots get worn down and rusted. There must be other ways we could make money that aren't endless touring or selling Jules and Nate action figures or whatever. If he can't figure it out, maybe he isn't as smart a businessman as he likes to believe!
[26]Still don’t like ‘em, they still feel so tight around my throat no matter what I do, but was able to manage this time. The champagne helped.
[27]And apparently very much appreciate pretty boys as well… couldn’t do much with that this time– as in, couldn’t find myself a fine Japanese man that appreciates pretty boys– but next year, maybe! Gives me time to maybe learn a little more Japanese outside of just ‘konnichiwa’ and ‘arigato’…!
[28]Yes, 15!!! I absolutely couldn’t help myself– they come in so many beautiful patterns and colors– and I’ll probably get even more the next time we’re back… I don’t often indulge myself like this but I know a rare chance when I see one!