Items For Today

One – I have yet another cold this year and spent the whole day in bed yesterday feeling extremely sorry for myself. So I’m warning local friends coming out tonight that though I will be at the Delancey in a slutty ensemble, I may not be up to par party  and performance-wise. Since I’m such a minor part of the show it really shouldn’t be a deterrent as it’s going to be a full-tilt evening.

Two – it has come to my attention that some people are under the erroneous impression that the conversation with an ex blog that I posted a little while back had to do with a certain high profile NYC singer-songwriter. I would like to let any inquiring minds who are reading my blogs know that because he is a high profile person, and also very private, I don’t post any of our intimate conversations or his personal details here. That conversation was actually with my ex-husband, who doesn’t care at all what I post as long as I spell his name right and occasionally mention that he’s well-endowed.

I’m bringing it up because I don’t want any bad rumors circulating around about people’s personal lives. I don’t mind if my own shit is splattered everywhere; I’m pathologically prone to spilling all of my most embarrassing moments, but I do want to exercise some discretion when it comes to the people I love.

Third, I finally got a chance to watch a DVD of Donna and I being interviewed on Reality Check TV at the C.O.P. reunion (thanks, Danny!), well after a few back-slapping shots had been consumed, and I was slightly mortified. Apparently I talk completely through the nose when intoxicated. I’m already nasal, but that night I sounded like a Midwestern housewife at a PTA bake sale (“Darling sweater, Marge. Did you get it at Talbots?”). Hideous! Why didn’t you people tell me? I have also been giving my sister shit for years over a certain mouth thing she does when drunk only to witness myself doing the same thing on film. I hate when illusions of grandeur about self are shattered and hereby promise, though probably far too late in a career to be meaninful, to shun all cameras when consuming celebratory shots with old friends.

All right. Gotta go blow my nose for the millionth time today.

Author: Raffaele

Rock and roll juggernaut, writer, muse, animal lover, Cycle Slut from Hell, friend, lover, sister, daughter, nerd, fagwoman, Slytherin, killer queen.

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