Sunday, September 08, 2002

Hi Space Invaders!

I was at a bar this week and they had that video game. That used to be my brother's favorite. I think it was, anyway. (Ben? You there?)

Sorry for being so quiet this week. I know it sucks when people don't post. I used to get all sad every time I went to Tony Pierce's blog and he didn't have anything new up. I felt so alone. I felt like, golly, Tony must have a way cooler life than me. He's not on his computer looking for a little human connection, he's out living his LIFE!

It is possible that I may have a cool life, almost as cool as Tony's. Possible. But you wouldn't know it by me, not today. It's Sunday, you know? It's truly, deeply Sunday. Even the sound of the word is sad.

I am sad today. This may be due to the fact that I haven't been eating, not in particular, and that I am a lady.

I know girl-bloggers shouldn't type about certain things, because they run the risk of becoming those bloggers. They also sacrifice their own sacred privacy. I generally avoid typing anything love-life related. (Beyond, of course, "I want to settle down and raise a family with Jack White, when we're older, and hold hands at barn dances." Which is at once true and completely schoolgirl crush stuff no different from wanting to "make love" in an enchanted English castle with David Bowie at 15.)

Love and dating are private matters.

I also think girl-bloggers should avoid typing about their female cycles (or their "lady time" as I prefer). I can't really back this one up, though.

In my personal life I am pretty open about this stuff. I have a lot of guy friends, and I see no reason to hide from them something so universal, and that affects me so profoundly. It's part of being liberated. It's a girl-power issue. (Thank God for the Spice Girls. They gave me so much.) Margaret Cho has a disgusting and really funny routine about this on her new record, "Notorious C.H.O." It's called, "If Straight Men Had Periods," and then, "If Gay Men Had Periods." Her point is that men are a little bit more liberated about body-stuff. (Except, of course, for the baldness issue, which is men's version of feeling fat and unloveable. When it comes down to it, women don't really, truly give a shit about baldness.)

But blogging about it?

No thanks, Mack. It's private.

So the intimacy of the blog has its limits.

I will write about it in the abstract: For example, doesn't it seem to you that side two of Jane's Addiction's "Ritual de lo Habitual" is highly menstrual? I can't explain it, but when I hear it, I feel that these guys know exactly what it means to be female and bleed, and be in pain, and also be crazy, and horny and in love, and also incredibly lonely and sad and grieving your childhood--and, in some secret way you hardly understand, to be a divine creator--a god.

Some men allow their music to become androgynous. Some at least let their lyrics expand beyond the confines of silly old-fashioned masculinity. When this happens, I get interested. It happened when U2 reinvented themselves with "Achtung Baby." It happened little by little with Nirvana. It happened all the time with Marc Bolan, of course. It happened with Prince, too, back when he was very, very good. Needless to say, it happened a lot and in beautiful ways with the Kinks.

The Stones are great. But they could never move me at the deepest level, because they aren't really very interesting emotionally.

(Then again, Tori Amos could never move me at the deepest level, because she's not very interesting musically. It's a balancing act.)

If I wrote about my love life and being female I could tell you why I'm sad. But I don't, so I won't! But maybe you can forgive me for being quiet this week.

OK bye.


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