The Jigtastic Journal of J. Na Na

I left my heart in San Francisco, but fell in love with New York.

Mr. Alterhausen and I were stationed at the Marriott in the Financial District, our room at which was twice the size at half the price as most hotels in NYC, and we had a beautiful, sweeping view of the city which included the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building. The weather, of which I expected the worst, was perfectly spring-like, like it knew I was coming.

We saw the site of Studio 54, the Tiffany’s in "Breakfast at Tiffany’s", the waterfront, Times Square, caught the amazing "Wicked", did drinks at a trendy bar in Greenwich Village where they played "Finally" by the Kings of Tomorrow, an old End Up classic we both instantly recognized, went to Grand Central Station, visited Ground Zero, had cocktails in Central Park, and saw the UN.

I don’t know where the rough and tough stereotype of New Yorkers comes from, but I saw none of it. Everyone from the subway personnel to the average person on the street was sweet, and Mr. Alterhausen and I most enjoyed imitating their accents while out and about.

My one celebrity sighting was Bobby Cannavale, the guy who played Will’s boyfriend on "Will & Grace".

Would I ever live there? Doubtful, as I only got the breeze through tourist’s version.

Would I ever go back? Absolutely. Can’t wait!

For the first time in the eight years I’ve lived in SF, I actually had a hot bus driver this morning.  He was this young Thai-looking guy with beautiful features and diamond studs in his ears.  Couldn’t drive for shit, but was awfully pleasant to look it.  A far cry from the demonic Santa Claus driver who actually yelled at a retarded boy on the bus the other day.

Speaking of, I know it’s tres, tres awful to say, but doesn’t it hurt your heart to see a hot retarded guy?  There’s this guy who occassionally takes the bus in the morning who looks like Matt Dallas (the guy from "Kyle XY"), but talks like Special Ed.  And there’s another super cute Asian boy who rides the bus with his foster father…and who wears a helmet.

I feel wrong in so many ways for having the hots for them.

And I feel excited as fuck for my trip.  Just 24 hours away!

That’s how I feel!  Over the moon with excitement.  Just two days, and I’ll be on a plane eastward bound to DC/NYC.  I bought a toiletry travel kit, washed all of my clothes, and will pack up tomorrow eve.  I’m wrapping up as much stuff at work as I can so the people covering me will have as little to do as possible, but I can hardly contain myself.  =)

I wish that people were born with bright, colorful hair.  You know, cherry red, bright orange, periwinkle blue, pink with yellow highlights like a hippie tweety bird.  Everyone would look so much cooler and happier that way.

The heat makes people a mite more bitchier than usual.  I can certainly say it hasn’t cheered my disposition.  But it will at least prepare me for the DC/NYC weather.  In a week at this same time, I’ll be on a plan eastward bound, nigga.

The heat still didn’t stop me yesterday from going on a full on shopping spree in the Castro.  I had a haircut appointment at 6:30, and got off work early to pick up my contacts at the optometrist, giving me a full two free hours to fritter away my vacay money on clothes, cosmetics, and CDs.  Lord above.

My great-grandmother was the one who taught me what the word "impotent" meant.  My sister and I were spending the night over at her house and watching "Biloxi Blues", and there’s this scene where Matthew Broderick, who plays a serviceman, picks up Dixie Carter, who plays a hooker, and he can’t get it up.  When he later confided in a pal that he was impotent, and I asked my great-grandmother what that meant, she very simply responded, "Oh, it’s when a man can’t perform sex."

Awesome, huh?

Quite unlike when I was at our babysitter’s once watching this episode of "Little House on the Prairie" where this chick gets raped, and I asked what that meant, and they all went dead silent.  Through the whole thing, I thought she’d been raked, and all I could think was, What the fuck would someone run a rake over someone else for?

I ran into John Waters on Polk St. Sunday on the way to Walgreens to get disinfectant spray!  He was in red slacks, a black coat, and sunglasses, and quite a bit receding and graying up top (but then, he is 63 years old).  I just sort of stared at him as he passed by, and only later regretted not asking for a picture because I knew no one would believe me.  But I would hate to bother a celebrity with such an irritating request.

It was just like the time I was in line behind Andy Bell at Safeway at 4:00 in the morning one night.  I just sort of stared all awestruck, but didn’t want to annoy by asking for a pic.

The problem with all these epic movie trilogies is that the villains are so blindly one-sided and lack true motivation.

So the machines in "The Matrix" enslave humanity so they can subsist.  What the fuck do they do in the meantime when they’re not focusing on keeping the matrix intact and functioning, and fighting off the Zionists?

So the Empire in "Star Wars" wants to rule everything and creates this Death Star to keep people in check.  What do they do when they’re not terrorizing the galaxy to give cause and purpose to their dominance?

So Sauron and company want to conquer the free peoples of Middle Earth and reclaim the ring in "Lord of the Rings".  What do they then plan to do with a war torn, fucked up land?  Especially considering the base nature of the goblins and orcs and all that crap who make up his army.

One day, someone needs to come up with an epic movie triology where the villains aren’t uniformly evil.  Where there is some gray to their nature, and you as an audience member may actually side with them. 

That’s some real story-telling.

I feel like I’ve lost all concept of time in the mornings. It’s like, my mind keeps thinking or dreaming, and when I wake up, get ready, and head to work, I’m not sure if I’m awake or asleep. This is sadly not the influence of any prescription pills, illicit substances, or anything as fun, but probably a sign that my body wants to keep sleeping.

Last night’s dream featured the big and tall Anthony, this guy from the End Up who I am dead in love with. He’s, like, eleven feet tall, has a shaved head, hoop earrings, and dark green eyes. He looks like he’d kick the crap out of you, but he’s actually a teacher, and while we once messed around once, my efforts to win him over since then have been fruitless at best.

Too bad life’s not like a kid’s cereal cartoon commercial.

My "Wicked" tickets arrived in the mail yesterday!  Well, I say arrived, but they were in fact dropped off on top of the mailboxes inside my building ripe for the taking courtesy of Fed Ex.  But thankfully, they were not, and as I pulled them out, I was so excited I coulda sucked vag.  It just made my little NYC trip all the more real.  Sixteen more days!

My new favorite reality show is "The Paper": a bunch high school kids running their high school paper in quite a high school-ish way.  And with typical MTV scripting aspects, but I still like.

I’m going to try for a dry weekend this weekend.  I figure my body could use the break, and I’d prefer not to have to drag myself up off the floor Monday morning when I must return to work.  Then I can celebrate next Friday when we’re all slated to go out to happy hour after work.  Suffer, then treat yourself, says I.

As per the IRS web site, based on the last two digits of my social security number, I’m to receive my Economic Stimulus Payment "no later than" May 9th.  When’re you getting yours: http://www.irs.gov/irs/article/0,,id=180250,00.html