Sunday, February 22, 2009

I've been such a negligent mommy, little blogbaby. I haven't nursed you with my nectar of self-loathing in weeks. You must be famished. You've missed my Munchausen verbal displays of affection, haven't you????! (shakes macbook like British nanny).
Well, not much has been happening. Same old shit I suppose. Berlin is cold and miserable and I want Spring to come so that I can stop wearing ugly clothes and turn into the sexy Mexican sun goddess I know is inside of me...beneath the layers of sloshing pilsner fat, pasty snow-moistened skin and sensible sweaters.
Lessee, showzen: I went to my friend Alejandro's opening at Chert Gallery, which was fantastic. He is an amazing artist, and I like anyone who plays on the intersextion of sex n' death. Here's his website:
I also went to the Temporary Kunsthalle to see the new Simon Starling show (winner of the Turner Prize) but I was somewhat disappointed as it felt so anesthetic. It takes a lot to carry that space; the Temporary Kunsthalle is gigantic and daunting and makes me dizzy.
After Ale's show, we tried to get in Lido, a huge dance club in Kreuzberg, where the gallery had put us on the guest list, but no. Stupid Frankendoorman wouldn't let us in. So then we went to another club called West Berlin which is Alejandro's favorite place because it looks totally "Matta-Clark." Alejandro slipped on a beer while twirling me on the dance floor and brought us both crashing down until we crumbled together like a brown and white injured cookie. My knee still hurts.

Yesterday, I went to fancy gym Elixia to visit Willi, who works at the front desk. I went swimming and sauna-ing. Woo, those Germans are not shy about nudity. So much unnecessary bratwurst.
I had lots of mishaps as usual: I set off the alarm in the handicapped bathroom while dressed only in a towel. I went into the men's locker room by accident, yada yada. The crazy things that happen when you are a flaky American girl participating in the confusing German gym system.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Today I went to Frankfurt Oder, unaware of the snow situation and unable to return home to fetch more sensible footwear. Needless to say, I wore Target-ish boots that leaked and then had to buy 4 pairs of socks. However, that cunning fag Jack Frost still managed to seep into my bones.
Soooo, for fear of losing my digits I swaddled them in a sanitary napkin (as the British say) to keep the moisture at bay. Then I went to class and draped all 6 pairs of socks on the heater and taught barefoot with rolled up pants like the professional rodeo clown I am.
Between this and my previous experience with homemade thong eye-patches and splints made of underwear, I think it's safe to say that I'm a "MacGyver" with ladywares.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

so cold...cannot function...sleet-y new studio...going to see Nicky dance at the Deutsches Oper next week...loved the movie Rachel Getting friend Alejandro Almanza's show opens at Chert Gallery on Sat...saw 3 subway fights this was with an old lady and a vagabond accordion player...sat in dog pee on the train to Poland...werewolf in a women's prisonnnnnnnnn......

Sunday, February 01, 2009

I went to Peres Projects last night for a performance. It sucked ballz. Boring, pretentious, infuriating. Performing in drag doesn't make something funnier, more edgy, more anything. It just means people are wearing clothes of the opposite gender.
Take note, performance artists of Berlin.
I love gender-fuckery, but don't temper your heavy, philosophical text with a hearty dose of dragging just to add a sprig of levity---I think it might very well be misplaced and irresponsible. Why is it funnier and edgier to see a man in a garter belt reading Proust?
It's reverting to some kind of Adam Sandler-esque humor, only cloaked in lofttier aspirations---I think its barfy. I'd rather see that stupid "Zohan" movie anyday.