There are times when my job is a real headache – screaming gays, power struggles, cheap Chinese skinned alive fur. I often question whether I should be looking to do something more meaningful for a living. But I have to admit that it is almost always highly entertaining. And the women I work with are truly awesome. We’re the oppressed minority in that place, so we’re very good to each other.

MOTO sits next to me in the office and because she’s all tiny and Japanese and perfect looking I call her horrible names: Chippie, Pudding-Chan, Skinny Little Slut, etc. I also threaten to beat her up pretty regularly but she’s feisty and has been completely psyched ever since I taught her how to give an indian burn. She tries it on everyone. Moto’s desk is a wreck and completely covered in Hello Kitty items–Hello Kitty screensaver (which once brought with it a raging virus), Hello Kitty mouse, mouse pad, ruler, calculator, clock, etc. It’s a plastic pink nightmare in which she sits peacefully in her size 0 jeans, slowly munching sweets and snipping with pink Hello Kitty scissors at imaginary split ends in her superlong Japanese hair.

ROCKET was in for a couple of days fixing various computer bugs and she even managed to get a Hello Kitty temporary tattoo on his arm. Unfortunately I forgot to take a picture of it, but he did show it off at the bar that night and found these for her later on:


Moto has this hanging over her desk (along with photos of Kim Kardashian and Ice T’s camel-toe queen Coco, with whom she’s bizarrely obsessed with, but we’ll save that topic for another blog). This brings me great joy every time I look at it:

Moto and I spend many hours “shopping” for ridiculously high ticket items we want in Vogue and Bazaar and Elle and W Magazine. We clip the photos out and tape them to the wall and the other girls give us commentary on the merits of the items we’ve chosen and point out the items that they too
would like to own. We can get away with this because we work in fashion and it kind of looks like we’re researching, you know, if you squint. So we found this photo (of which there are many like it) in Elle:

Me: Oooh, my skin is grey but my eyeshadow is tres cunty!
Moto: My bag is sooooo heavy.
Me: It’s dark. So dark in the land of beauty.
Moto: I will die soon but my heavy bag is fierce.

You get the picture. Btw, how completely fucked is that photo? This is what the fashion fags and the socialite boys want us to look like, ladies. Beware, beware of this pop culture version of beauty. It hates us.

So I am regularly frustrated by the lack of consciousness in the industry. But today I am so psyched about where I work, and this is the reason. Pat designed this t-shirt to show her support, and then the staff put together their own trampy version of Michelle Obama to feature it:

And it gets better. JULIE, our webmaster, sent out an email featuring the sale of this t-shirt to the entire customer list! Meaning that all of the conservative Sex and the City housewives in the middle of the country who have no idea that Ms. Patricia Field is a crazy New York lesbian with flaming red hair and a most decidedly liberal point of view are now either considering Pat’s opinion or angrily typing hate mail.

Either way, I am completely psyched because a stand has been taken. It is so rare that I feel like we’re doing anything with a consciousness in the store. And the fact that Julie had the balls to actually hit “send” just pleases me to no end. She doesn’t have a tattoo on her and I doubt she’s ever seen or even heard Motorhead, but she is totally badass.

I have never been a particularly political person. Frankly, politics usually bore the hell out of me. I’m much more interested in sitting around and cutting out photos of overpriced accessories from bullshit fashion magazines. But lately I feel my heart pumping with hope when I hear Obama or Hillary talking about the fact that we could actually have positive change. How lovely to hear people who don’t appear to be lying to me, who can pronounce “nuclear”, who seem to actually care about the middle class and the planet. In this time of crisis I can’t NOT have an opinion to express. To remain quiet is to accept the evil, and that is just not possible now. Even if we go down with the corporate ship, I’d like to do it with my big fat mouth open (as usual). And I’m so pleased that I work in an environment where my famous boss is not afraid to lose favor with some of her fans by expressing an opinion, and my co-worker is given the freedom to state the case openly.

And lastly, and on that note, my ex and very good friend JESSE MALIN wrote a blog that speaks quite eloquently, so I’m going to paste a bit of it here:

“I just got back from a family trip/writing retreat in southern Florida. My Grandfather, Arthur, is about to turn 90. He has always been kind of the Iggy Pop of the family, working out every day, swimming, dancing and bugging the ladies at the library for new books. He had recently fallen ill and it was pretty devastating but somehow with the magic of the force, the schwartz, pma (he might have invented this), or just the early bird special at China Lane, he emerged from the hospital and returned home while I was down visiting.

Sitting on the terrace in a worn down apartment complex, we spoke about embracing as many minutes as possible in this wild life. Obama came on the TV. Papa was happy and impressed. He spoke of the Candidate’s eloquence and spirit and comparisons to JFK and other moments of major change and hope that he had witnessed in his lifetime. Another family member, on the other hand, is afraid that he is a Muslim, anti-semite and too green for the gig (I thought he was black?) Some of this information was passed on from Hollywood actor John Voight in a soundbite to the scared and gullible. Being down in Florida made me feel more sensitive about the needed votes or sometimes it all feels ridiculous and futile like when Gore won the presidency and they fixed it like a corrupt prize fight in a pseudo democracy where Bush would win again.

None-the-less, I feel it is always a lesser of evils game. I don’t believe we are truly hopeless. Having Barach Obama’s message and image penetrating through the media is a very exciting feeling, whether he wins or not (and I hope he kicks McCain’s ass). I’ve never had so much disgust and embarrassment over a political governmental administration as endured these past 8 years. Watching Bill Clinton introduce the Rolling Stones in “Shine The Light” on my hotel pay per view screen, brought me questioning in a dreamlike reality “did this cool charismatic INTELLIGENT man, who actually likes rock’n roll, really exist as the President of my country, the United States of America? It seems very foggy and surreal. The present reality here is the good ole’ U.S. is the worst economy, a soaring unemployment rate, sick gas prices, raping the Earth, lying, Big Brother surveillance, thousands of kids dying in a war that continues on and on, etc. etc. etc. A Rasta man once called it “politrics.” Someone else said don’t mix music and politics (Billy Bragg made a career of it but he also writes a pretty amazing love song). I do urge my American fans and friends to PLEASE vote this year in this historic election.”

Amen, amen. Just make sure that if you’re one of those Bottega Veneta models you put a couple of nuts or carrot sticks in your $3965 bag before heading to the polls. We wouldn’t want you to faint and accidentally land on the McCain lever.

Chocolate Cherry Bread

Sooo… thanks to everyone who came out to hang with KIM and I at NIAGARA on Friday for her supersale. It was really fun and you all look totally foxy in your new gear. CID celebrated her new divorce diet with a pair of Submission camos, and ALISON learned for the five millionth time that her ass is not so big that she can’t fit into a pair of hot jeans. If you have any leanings towards Kim’s awesome denim line, I highly recommend coming to one of these sales as she’ll pick out the perfect pair for you and the discounts are substantial.

WAKE, who also looked pretty damn foxy in HIS new jeans, brought the most amazing chocolate cherry bread, straight out of the oven. Bread AND chocolate in one package? Are you kidding me? It was so good that we gorged on it at Niagara and then sat on my couch in our pajamas the next day tearing and eating it with our hands. So much for no carbs.

I had a conversation that night with the lovely Zoe Manitoba, who has a book deal and is currently in the process of writing a memoir, and she gave me some very interesting pointers as far as finding a book agent, and we’re going to have dinner to discuss it as she has very generously offered to help me out in any way she can. This is on the heels of a lunch with STORM in which we promised each other we would get our proposals done by my birthday in October, so of course now I’m completely terrified that I actually have to get something done and am looking for new and larger ways to procrastinate. HELP!! Storm was on the East Coast helping a friend with her dying mother, and of course is already working on and booked for a one woman show which will debut in March of 2009 and is already blowing away the theatre crew she’s working with. Sigh… I am surrounded by gorgeous overachievers who are killing my computer gaming, Mean Girls dvd on repeat buzz…

Then on Saturday night Kim did a small trunk sale at THE DRESSING ROOM, which is a very cute designer co-op on Orchard Street. The girl that owns it is super cool and had the genius to cut the store right down the middle, making one half a retail area and the other half a very cosy, sexy little bar. GENIUS. You can get drunk and shop in one locale. Which I promptly did, spending way too much money on this necklace:


Which looks far, FAR better in person than it does here. It’s actually very elegant and tough looking, in this photo it just looks goofy and cheap, but I like to give visuals. I was so chipper that I tried to buy Kim the gold version but she’s so rough on her jewelry that we ended up passing on it. My mastercard thanks her for her restraint.

And to my absolute delight my beloved friend DENNIS BOROWSKY was bartending at this little bar, so while Kim socialized and tried on designer goods I sat swilling wine and engaged in ANOTHER discussion about writing. It turns out that Dennis has fallen into writing for surf magazines that he likes and had all kinds of interesting info for me from that direction. The Universe is just not letting me go on this one, I think if I don’t get it together the next step will be how-to books dropping from the sky and landing on my head. All right, already!

One thing that Dennis suggested is to do a blogspot blog for people who aren’t on myspace, he tells me that it will connect me with another set of writers and readers, and act as something to show potential agents. So I’ve set up that nonsense and I’m just going to copy and paste whatever I write here over there. The link is MISS ANTHROPE’S HOUSE OF HIGH DRAMA, I will try to link to any blogspots that you have, just let me know. I’m still figuring out how to navigate it.

And lastly, an ex-bandmate DANYEAL has set up a page for my first band, back in the olden days of the early 80’s. It’s SCARECROW. You may recognize the blonde bass player, yes, that is my ex-husband, the inimitable and completely mental CURT FLECK. Please take it with a grain of salt, I had no clue about what I was doing and make no claims other than we looked pretty good in photos. I’m going to dig some out and scan them for him over the next week.

So this is pretty wonderful, I just managed to procrastinate for another afternoon putting all these links into this blog. Woo hoo!

Two Pounds Down

Me: Hello?

Drew: How’s work going?

Me: It’s fine. What’s going on, honey?

Drew: Been looking for the TV remote for a half an hour. Any ideas on that?

Me: Did you check in the couch?

Drew: Yep.

Me: How about my jean drawer. You know I forget it there sometimes.

Drew: Yep.

Me: Cupboard?

Drew: Not there.

Me: How about the secondary jean drawer? The one in the armoire?

Drew: Checking it now…ah…nope.

Me: That is weird.

Drew: Can you look in your purse please?

Me: You think? Okay hang on….checking…Um…Yes, actually. I DID put the TV remote in my purse. It’s here. Oops!

Drew: Goddamnit, Mary, will you please eat some fucking carbs already? You’re killing me.

Me: Have I mentioned today how handsome you are?

Drew: I’m hanging up now.


I’m on a two week fat flush right now, after eating pounds of food on vacation (yay, chocolate cream pie!) and seeing myself in a bikini. It’s two weeks of protein, no carbs, no dairy, no sugar, only certain vegetables and fruits, no salt, no oil except for two tbsps of flax oil per day, and thermogenic (hot, metabolism affecting) spices. Oh, and you have to drink unsweetened cranberry juice (mmm…) constantly.

Anyway, blah, blah, on the boring details. Just want to give you an idea of how incredibly tedious this diet is. Each meal or snack fills you up for a half an hour and then you’re on your own. But I’ve done it before and it works and kick starts you into a healthier eating pattern, plus it’s designed to clean out your liver a bit.

I’m only on day four, which technically is day three because I had two glasses of wine on the first day (not allowed), but I’m already crying about it to anyone who will listen. I’m fucking starving. And I come from a family in which carbs play an important role. My sister said recently, “I have very disturbing news. My son appears to feel indifferent towards pasta.” And my eyes widened in horror. There must have been a switch in the hospital!

So I’m pissing and moaning and complaining and crying and I’m weak and cranky and feeling way more sorry for myself than the whole thing warrants. You’d think it was a full on fast the way I’m carrying on. I’m also bitching about not losing any weight, to which Alison pointed out “You’ve only been on the diet for two days, Mary!” Oh, yeah. That’s right. It only FEELS like a month.


So I’m walking home from a day at work in which I discovered all of the deposits entered into my paperwork while I was gone are completely wrong, and in protest of the gays and the suffering they regularly put me through (and you know, because of my weakened state) I spent the last hour and a half being completely unproductive and poring over dlisted.com (yay, Michael K!). I think I came in well over a half an hour late this morning too.

Anyway, I’m bitterly dragging along with my eco-friendly reusable grocery bag full of things like kale and radishes and yet another $10 bottle of unsweetened cranberry juice, and I run into my friend Stephen Sebring. Stephen is a fairly famous photographer who I met years ago because he was friendly with an alcoholic idiot that I dated for a brief and annoying time. Stephen and I are not close, but he and his girlfriend live across the street from me and they’re both totally cool and they have the most perfect pomeranian that ever lived. So we usually stop on the street to catch up on what’s going on and always their lives are infinitely more productive than mine.

Today I asked Stephen how he was doing and it went something like this. My thoughts are in parenthesis:

Stephen: Well, the baby’s two months old now and he’s doing great.

Me: Oh my God, has it been that long since I’ve seen you? It seems like Shoshanna was just pregnant! (I am so fucking hungry.)

Stephen: Yep. And you know, my other baby’s been born too, my movie.

Me: You made a movie? (I want pasta.)

Stephen: I’ve been following Patti Smith around and filming her for 12 years, and then it took me a year to edit. The movie just came out. It was at the MOMA last week.

Me: Are you kidding me? That’s amazing! (Clam spaghetti.)

Stephen: It won an award at Sundance, I’m so excited.

Me: That’s so great Stephen, really. I’m so happy for you. I’d love to see it. (That place across the street has a really good Fra Diavlo.)

Stephen: It’s at the Film Forum, I’m trying to get all my friends to go see it. I think tomorrow night is sold out though.

Me: I will make a point of it, that’s absolutely amazing. I’m so impressed. (Omg, focus! What have I done with my life? Nothing! Please don’t ask me what I’ve been doing.)

Stephen: So what have you been doing lately?

Me: Erm…well, I’ve started a fat flush…

Cal – Judgecal – Mark Chamberlain

I wasn’t super close to Cal but I’ve known him for well over 20 years. I remember the first time I met him, in an afterhours somewhere in the EV. He was probably 16 years old and playing at wearing a bandana across the lower half of his face because people mistook him for Billy Idol when they only saw the top half of his face. He was cute and funny and constantly hitting on me and every other girl we knew.

Later on Cal’s true serious nature became more apparent, and he went on to do some interesting work at Pseudo and even CNN, and I know he was very into Burning Man as of late. But I’ll always remember him as that funny, adorable kid who looked a bit like Billy.

On a sidenote, and for those of you who lean the same way I do spiritually, my mother has told me to expect more friends to pass as the earth moves towards the shift that’s occurring right now. Some people don’t feel they’re ready to participate here for the shift or have other work to do on the other side. Either way it’s just part of the massive change that is going on around us right now. For those of you who don’t believe this, it’s fine, I’m not trying to sell you. I”m just putting it out there because it certainly seems true in my social scene, and it is confusing, especially when someone as young, healthy and loved as Cal just drops out unexpectedly.

Cal as I met him in 1984, with a girl named Frankie. I love this photo because it captures how we all looked and felt back then. We were all just babies and lived in our own private world…

And Cal recently, with the same sweet smile…

For those of you who haven’t heard yet, our friend Cal was found dead in his apt a few days ago.

Its very sad because he was in there for a while before the police and his landlord went in. I have one friend that had been calling him with no answer and thought something might be up, but she’s in LA and didn’t know who to call to check on it. I understand from digging around online that there is an autopsy and investigation going on to find out what happened. There are reports that he was feeling down, another friend who ran into him recently believes it could have been suicide, but this is all speculation at this point and could be completely false. I just heard from another friend who saw him two weeks ago and says he was smiling. I don’t want to put untruths out there, I’m just trying to give the information I have at the moment, since there doesn’t seem to be much available.

From what I understand Cal had a rough childhood, I know when I met him he was a runaway. He was very private about his family life, and now people are trying to find contact info for them. If you have any information email MAN RAY, he’s got an email from Cal’s old roommate who is looking around. And if anyone knows or is putting together a memorial, please let me know. I’d love to pay my respects.

See you on the other side, buddy. xoxo

[UPDATE 8.3.08 6:33 PM: Just talked to Mauricio fom Mao and he tells me that there was no note and the current early opinion is that it was some sort of natural occurrence possibly brought on by past drug abuse (which I’ve experienced with other friends) rather than self-inflicted. His friends are still trying to locate contact info for his family and if they are unable to locate them are going to set up a memorial fund. Will keep you posted as info comes in.]

[UPDATE 8.5.08: There’s a great piece on Cal here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/belisa-vranich/cal-chamberlain-rip_b_116645.html and there’s a new group for exchanging info here: http://groups.google.com/group/more-judgecal/]

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