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Song in my head: Mood: Current book: I'm touched that people are still checking in. I've been very disappeary. I've been just plain miserable lately. I had to put my Frankie to sleep and a dear friend of mine just died last week, only in his 40s and it was totally unexpected, and Frankie was totally unexpected, and all the Louis shit seems like nothing compared to this. John's death was more recent and I've been having an incredibly hard time of it and I feel like no one really understands.. he was one of those friends where we hung out together but not with many other people so not many other people in my circle really get how much this hurts and I feel like so many people are getting sick to death of hearing about him but I can't stop talking about him, he was one of the best people I knew he kept to himself a lot, he was very private but he let me in a little bit which was a lot more than most and I can't believe we're never going to watch Valley of the Dolls again and laugh at Patty Duke's necklaces and "Sparkle, Neely, sparkle!" and Anne Wells leaving Lyon Burke IN HER HOUSE and what really sucks is that I think that Louis probably would understand more than most, even though he's a fucker that I'm suing to get my stuff back, if we'd been together when John died he would have been really understanding although then again he was kind of a dick when my grandfather died (after a couple of days I guess he thought I should have been done grieving) and boy aren't I the long run on sentence!! I have been writing about John nonstop and I don't think a single word of it does him justice and I hate hate HATE that I remember him so vividly and yet I can't get it on paper right and he'll fade from my memory and I don't want to lose any of it and I hate this. I googled him and I found a review he wrote of a Joni Mitchell concert and he said "It is really unfair to comment, but the outfits Joni wore were two of the most unflattering things I have ever seen on a female performer. She looked absurd and ugly from the neck down." And that was so John, catty and cutting and with the sharpest wit I ever knew (when I moved 3 times in a year he wrote to me "good thing I keep your name in my address book in pencil") and I can't imagine he'll NEVER EMAIL ME AGAIN although I dreamed he emailed me to say goodbye and it totally made me cry, we felt so fondly of each other yet never really expressed it - he was so private and reserved that way - and he's the second older gay male friends of mine to die this year and I feel so adrift, he gave me magnificent advice and as catty as he could be he always told me how lovely I looked and he loved my desserts (I loved to bake for him!) and when I told him about all the Louis shit going down he could have said "I'm not surprised" or anything like that yet all he said was something like, "Aimee, that's perfectly awful, and I'm so sorry to hear that" and he invited me over for London Broil and carrots and South Park and goddamn I heard "Uncle Fukka" from the South Park movie Saturday and it made me bawl my eyes out. He was my movie friend, my dog show friend, my campy friend, my advice friend, my political friend, my witty observation friend, one of my first friends in the city and I miss him more than I can say. |
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