Monthly Archives: May 2012



I can’t believe I’ll be leaving for the desert in just over a month! There doesn’t seem to be a spare moment between now and then! I was planning on using this blog to jettison much of my costumery and clutter but I don’t think I’ll have time to photograph and post it all! I will try and use Party Costume Exchange on Facebook, so keep an eye out for fun stuff there!

I have one week till I leave for Vegas, where I’ll be wrangling balloons again for Balloon Chain at Electric Daisy Carnival. Between now and then I’ll be working at the bar, taking a two-day seminar — “Going All the Way: Sex and Money Intensive” — with Amy Jo Goddard, attending the “Meet & Beat” for The New York Fetish Marathon Thursday night and emceeing for the HOWL! Festival finale, The Jackie Factory presents’ “Low Life 6: East Village Others” on Sunday. Whew! Guess it’s a good thing I’ve given up dating!

Somewhere in there I’d like to have a clothing swap, do Pink Drinks at Sidewalk and, well, you know, pack! There’s 4th of July in there (come visit me at Double Down!) and a trip out to the Hamptons to hang with my family. Oh! And The Mermaid Parade! I have a feeling I won’t be blogging much. But maybe this year I’ll do a bit more of it from out in the desert. Though it’s very difficult to focus on a computer screen after eight hours in the sun…

The ideal situation would be if I could just think the things I want to write here and have it all magically transmitted into type. Sigh. I’m sure we’ll have that technology any moment now. Which will be awesome because that would make it super easy to write my memoir! Anyway, keep an eye on my Facebook page for more up-to-date info, since it’s so easy to just zap a photo there. (Shakes fist at Mark Zuckerberg.) Anyway, stay tuned!

Hi Cutie!

I don’t know what links I’ve been clicking on lately but they’ve upped the amount of interesting spam I’ve been receiving. Apparently there are people who want to put MONEY IN MY BANK! And there are women who think I might “love passionate brown haired babes.” Oh, if only…

I love the tenuous grasp of the English language displayed here. Happy Memorial Day!

If you are looking forward to chat with beautiful,
very sexy cutie then I am right here, right before you! ?

My name is Zoe Pearson and I am 22 yo.

I am married and I really bored with this daily life. I’ve got tons of free time while my husband is working.

We could chat for a while, go to cafe and, maybe, we’ll feel desire to make something naughty!

Check up my photo shots and surely you couldn’t wait any longer but answer this mail because you love passionate brown haired babes like me. Isn’t it?

I’m the Problem!

Yesterday I received a new comment on my blog from “Paul.” It was in response to my post “Done with Dating.” Paul said:

I think you should give up dating! No one will ever be “good” enough for you! You are only out for yourself with all your self-promotion and making all us men sound bad! No man is ever good enough for you! No man is handsome enough for you! No man is cool enough for you..You seem to find something bad to say about every single one of your dates! You are the problem, not us men!

At first I thought Paul was responding to my most recent post. When I realized it was a comment on “Done with Dating,” all I could think was, did ya catch the title there, Paul? Duh. Either way, I often say I’m the one with the problem. But in this instance, I literally admit it: “I don’t know if that’s because I subconsciously crave disaster in order to create more content for you, my dear readers, or if there’s something seriously wrong with me. I’m pretty confident it’s both.” So, yeah, thanks for the brilliant insight, Paul.
After mulling it over, his comments started to really piss me off. I’ve said repeatedly that I’m the problem. That it isn’t the men, it’s me. Most of these guys are great. For me, it’s the context — the blind date-ish dynamic — that I find problematic. Perhaps if I met these men under different circumstances — in a bar, at a party, in the grocery store — my reaction to them might be more favorable. Who knows?
The whole purpose of this blog is introspection. My dating disasters may sound hilarious to the reader but actually experiencing them is no fucking picnic. I don’t know if it really is “them” or me. There are many things I’m unable to successfully address here, primarily my myriad fears. I don’t know if it’s diminished libido, loss of self-confidence, fear of intimacy or having my heart broken…again. I struggle with reconciling feeling happy and content, yet wanting more. Should I want more? Do I deserve more? Haven’t I had enough already?
To weigh in with such negativity and condemnation — especially on the heels of other more encouraging and compassionate comments — just seems mean-spirited. Granted, there have been plenty of other nasty comments. I approve them all;I don’t want anyone accusing me of picking and choosing only the positive responses. But I have to question how Paul could take the time to read my blog and still believe I’m “only out for myself with all my self-promotion.” Really? Promotion of…what? Is there advertising on here? How am I benefitting from any of this? And if I’m not out for myself, who is? Who should I be “out for?” All these OKCupid dudes? I mean, seriously.
I’ve taken down my OKCupid profile. If I meet someone in person and he asks me out, great. But I’m not gonna do the online dating thing anymore. It just isn’t how I’m wired. So, in conclusion, I say FUCK YOU, PAUL! And fuck off to all the other assholes who waste their time reading what I write and then waste even more time being mean.

Content? Or Malcontent?

Why is the number one search that brings people to my blog “vaginal massage?” I’ve written about a lot of things (over and over and over) but have only mentioned “vaginal massage” once. Sheesh!

This past week was (obviously) another one spent avoiding the computer and suffering from some serious FOMO (fear of missing out). There was just so much going on! On Saturday alone there was the Dance Parade, Brooklyn’s Great Googa Mooga, the big punk bash Black & Blue Bowl, Electric Daisy Carnival out at the Meadowlands, Joey Ramone’s Birthday Party, Love That Fever, blahblahblah.

The EDC lasted from Friday till Sunday and I got to see at least a little peek of it, helping to wrangle balloons again with the Balloon Chain. Our wristbands got us free food and free carnival rides. Wheee! Loved the spiral slide, the barfy swings and The Zipper! Got to see the Spire of Fire, all the way from Reno and tended to by DPW, FLG and more! Of course, the music wasn’t exactly my thing but it sure was fun to see the furry, dayglo raver kids. And on Sunday I rode the subway up to the Bronx for Winkel & Balktick’s “Flappers & Philosophers,” an afternoon lawn party a la F. Scott Fitzgerald. People were really dressed up! It felt like we’d stepped back in time.

But yeah, I’ve been avoiding the computer. I simply haven’t felt inspired lately. Writing about my miserable dating life (or lack thereof) has just become kinda boring. And somewhat depressing. I don’t feel motivated to write about “happy” stuff because no one seems to enjoy reading it. And of course I’ve been struggling with how “happy” can I be while still trying to change my current situation. Can I be content and discontent simultaneously?

I don’t know. Maybe it’s my impending birthday. Another year older and no closer to…whatever it is I’ve been striving for. Or have I had that my whole life? And yet I keep tricking myself into believing I “need” something…else? Whatever. In a few months (60 days, to be exact) I’ll be back in tiny little Gerlach with a job to do, a crew to manage and a whole lotta beer to drink. I kinda can’t wait.

Three’s a Charm…Chore

Uh. I wanted the word “Charm” to have a “strike-through” but evidently I can only edit HTML for the body of the text (here) and not in my headline. Use your imaginations. See it? The word “Charm” crossed out and replaced with “Chore”? Okay, good. Shall we proceed?

This past Thursday I went on three dates. Yes, three. Sort of. The first guy said he wanted to meet for coffee but had a conference call at 7pm. So I made another date at 7:30 to meet guy #2 for a beer. Date #3 was an invitation to a party co-hosted by a guy who has been checking my profile on OKCupid (and randomly emailing me) for about two years.

I know, it sounds a bit overambitious but I figured once I was dressed up and date-ready, I might as well get as much mileage out of my night as possible. So how did they go? Well, hmmmm…

Date #1 was a little late. No big deal. But when he’d said we’d meet “outside” I kinda thought that there might be, you know, outside seating. Instead I leaned against a financial district high rise outside an Aroma coffee shop. He bought my chai, which was nice, and we had a pleasant enough conversation. He didn’t look quite as good in person as he did in his photo (could’ve been the boring business suit instead of the tight t-shirt) but his looks weren’t as problematic as his professional life. On his profile he’d professed to “a gypsy lifestyle” and “working too hard,” years without a day off, in fact, and admitted to seeking more “play.” I was obviously willing to take on that challenge. However, in our fairly brief conversation, I couldn’t figure out when he would be able to fit in that “play.” His “gypsy lifestyle” wasn’t as romantic in reality as it sounded in print; he commutes between Manhattan and Rochester and his home in Syracuse. For a government job. Erm… His time in NYC is on the gub-ment dime so even if he’d been up for some playing, he’d have to spring for a separate hotel room or pass out on a very long train ride home. Sigh. Though we both said it would be nice to see each other again, I don’t anticipate that actually happening.

Date #2 was much more my speed, a craftsman and sailor. I met him at one bar, where we had a few beers, and then we had a few more at another bar. He was tall and smart and funny and since his online photos didn’t reveal much due to a baseball cap and sunglasses, there wasn’t as much of that usual visual discrepancy. Yet this is where my problem with online dating becomes so pronounced: while enjoying myself — and his company — all I could think was “Could I kiss this guy?” And the answer was consistently, “No.” I can’t say why.

Whatever, I invited him along to the party that guy #3 had invited me to, saying that he wouldn’t have much time to talk since he’d be busy hosting. Which I thought was a perfect situation: I’d get to see him in action without that awkward one on one dynamic. I’d invited my friend Karen, too, who was there when we arrived. The party was at Taj, a horrible club I’ve been to before, with mandatory coat check and overpriced drinks. I promised date #2 we wouldn’t stay long as soon as I realized what we were in for. Well, nothing, my friends, I mean NOTHING had prepared me for what we were actually in for. All the $12 cocktails in the world paled in comparison to the guests at this event. Yes, I had read the fine print: Date #3’s “Back to the Beach Party” was sharing the evening with “” Uh-huh. “Parties for ages 40s and 50s & up.” Oh yeah. Up. And UP!

Holychristonapogostick! This hellish party was like Heaven’s Waiting Room! There was even a clichéd crone with the dyed black hair and makeup scrawled over her face like an SNL skit. She was sportin’ enormous sneakers, hunched over a trés chic cane. There was “Fabio,” who I needed to see up close in order to properly appreciate his full glamor: Mr. Magoo glasses, too-tight acid washed jeans, a white button down barely containing his girth and bleached blond hair that he kept smoothing down. He had positioned himself by the dance floor, perhaps to catch one of the crones if she lost her orthopedic footing. The women were, quite literally, shuffling around! The exception were the few 50-ish “cougar” wanna-bes, with their streaked, over-sprayed hair, flirty cocktail dresses and high-pitched cackles, draped all over each other and no doubt hoping to meet a man who’ll pay for their (next) facelifts.

All this to a bangin’ top-40 dance beat that I’m sure no one in the room cared for. Or heard. Oy. To say this was depressing would be a gross understatement. It was a HORROR! Fortunately, date #3 slipped me a few fancy plastic drink tickets on his way out, so Karen, date #2 and I each enjoyed a free cocktail as we attempted to contain our guffaws. We stumbled out of there safe in the knowledge that, however bad it may be, it ain’t that bad yet!

After that debacle, date #2 insisted on getting something to eat, which I wasn’t really up for. But we wound up at a tacky retro diner where I got to slurp down one of the most amazing milkshakes of my life! Cotton Candy! Complete with real cotton candy garnish! I used it to wash down my chili cheese tater tots. After such an action-packed date I just wanted to get home and hide under the covers, so I gave date #2 a hug goodbye, saying yes, of course we should get together again. I couldn’t find a cab to save my life, so I bumbled home, cackling like a crone the whole way! Next step: KILL my OKCupid profile! Anyway….

While I Wasn’t Writing…

I’ve been noodling with a blog post for well over a week. Though the topic feels specific, it seems I have more to say than I’ve been able to properly encapsulate. In addition to my inability to  sufficiently whittle down my words, I had an entertainingly distracting week:

I feel like Linda Stasi but, wow, what a week it’s been!

One week ago my friend Robin arrived from San Francisco. Her boyfriend Ace was in town to celebrate his 50th birthday and she surprised him with her appearance at his Tammany Hall rock bash. I couldn’t make it a late night due to the ear-bleedingly loud music and the resulting lack of ability to converse. Wednesday and Thursday were eight-hour work days followed by drinking. At 7:20am Friday, Heather and Caitlin arrived, also from San Francisco. They napped, I ran errands and Robin headed to The Met. I managed to fit in a workout and an hour of sitting in the sun, all in preparation for my big Friday night — and the primary reason for Heather’s visit: Night of a Thousand Stevies.

Photo by Jason Russo

The ultimate Stevie Nicks tribute extravaganza originated at Jackie 60 22 years ago, making “Dreams Unwind,” yes, the 22nd annual! I worked the VIP list at the door with Cynthia, as usual, and then got to emcee on the Stevie stage for my very first time! It was glorious! And of course, the entire evening was exquisite! A crew of us headed to Double Down afterward for a nightcap before I bumbled back to Hotel Abby.

Saturday had a slooowwww start due to my Stevie-sized hangover. It was May 12, Ace’s actual birthday, and he showed up to start DJing at 4. He was spinning some seriously entertaining rock and punk, pretty much the soundtrack of my lifetime, so I was really enjoying it! Between his pals and the visiting DPW folks, the bar was full of friendly faces. When my shift was over, a bunch of us relocated the festivities to my roof. It was, quite possibly, the most pleasant weather of the season, perfect for sitting outdoors and drinking. When I finally lost my shit — and my patience — from sheer exhaustion around 2am, I sent the last few stragglers out to a bar and passed out on my fold-out couch.

Sunday was another slow one and I wound up on the roof for more sunshine. Then Caitlin and Heather treated me to dinner and a show: Priscilla, Queen of the Desert! Oh! Em! Gee! The costumes were fucking mind-blowing! And the blinky bus? Amazing! It was, like, the gayest show EVAR! We managed to grab the only available cab in all of Times Square and headed straight downtown to Crif Dogs, followed by a milkshake stop at Ray’s. Wheeeeee! What an awesome Sunday!

Caitlin and Heather left Monday morning-ish after a quick brunch at Yuca Bar and I fit in a quick trip to the gym before Robin and I met Johnny and David at the 10th Street Baths. It was really nice to sweat out all the booze and beer of the weekend. I hung out with them while they ate sushi, then jumped into a cab to meet Edie and Marianne for Mexican. It was like old times, except I eschewed the booze. We even hung out afterward at Mare’s apartment.

This morning, after Robin left for the airport, I spent two hours getting paid for my opinions on hair dye. Easiest hundred bucks I’ve ever made! And finally, I met Karen at the movie theater to see Dark Shadows. Which was cute! Now, to curl up with my Scribble and enjoy a little bit of solitude. Oh, and perhaps get back to some writing…

West Coast, Sex & Absurdity, Cinco de Drunko

Ack! It’s been days — DAYS! — since I’ve (b)logged on here. I went on a whirlwind trip out west:

Left my apartment last Thursday at 5am, Jamye picked me up at the airport and we hung out at her new place in San Francisco. She drove me to my parents, who took us out for dinner. Friday morning my mom drove me back into the city to drop me off at Mel and Tony’s, who gave me a ride to Gerlach and Black Rock Station. We stopped in Oakland for Anna and Dylan, had lunch in Auburn and pulled into Gerlach around 5 for drinks at Bev’s Miners Club. By the time we got to the Ranch it was getting dark. I threw my sleeping bags into one of the metal condos, set out Scribble’s food and water and the drinking commenced. It sure was great to be sitting around a burn barrel again!

Woke up super early Saturday morning, still on east coast time. Enjoyed my coffee beside the burn barrel before breakfast and our DPW Managers’ Meeting, which only lasted till lunch time! Soooo, yup, you got it, the drinking commenced! I managed to stay sober enough to conduct my contract and budget meeting and taste our delicious dinner! By the time 10pm rolled around I had to roll myself into bed!

Such an early bedtime meant another early rise and more coffee around the burn barrel. Monte Christos for breakfast were followed by goodbyes and a quick stop in Gerlach so Hayseed could check out some real estate. We drove three young Eastern Europeans into Reno; they’d rolled their car on the playa. Then it was on to Sacramento for dinner with Vaughn and Dawn. By the time I’d dropped Hayseed in Oakland I was too exhausted to attend Fuckin’ Andy’s going away party, opting to head to San Rafael for the rest I knew I’d need for Monday. Sunburned, windburned and exhausted!

Monday morning I had coffee with my mom, then drove into the city for a massage with Franny. Mmm, that was awesome! I hurried to meet my sister and niece for lunch and hung with them all afternoon. My parents came in for a full family dinner before I had to rush downtown to the Center for Sex and Culture and my wacky “Sex & Absurdity” event. It got off to an awkward start but turned out awesome in the end! Anna ran the door, Ace was our DJ and sound guy and the talented link-up featured Miss Roach, Dr. Notorious and Princess Cream Pie, Laika Fox, Austintatious, Tizzy Walls, MegaFlame, Fudgie Frottage and yours truly. The audience was enthusiastic and receptive and everyone had a blast! A few of us bumbled off for after show beverages and I didn’t crawl into bed till after 1am.

Tuesday was spent almost entirely in transit and man, was I happy to get home to my comfy bed and black-out curtains! I’ve spent the past few days catching up and working, picking up an extra shift on Thursday. Cinco de Mayo was amazing, celebrating Don and Natasha’s birthdays at the bar and working in my Frida Kahlo drag. Now I’m preparing for a slew of out of town visitors, Night of a Thousand Stevies, Ace’s NYC birthday juggernaut, the Black & Light Ball and more! I have a million ideas to blog about, just not enough bandwidth to actually concentrate. Soon, soon… Maybe I need to move to a remote mountain top!