The shrimpcake leaves to go back to her mom next week. I am, of course, only partially relieved. I love that damn kid, but jeezus, there is only so much even I, the super-human; good with children, animals and old people; incredibly calm and patient can take. For the past month I have felt as though I were a giant teat with everyone sucking on it. I have been dried of all energy, creativity, zest, and free time. My life has become a whirlwind of organizing transportation for day camp, making lunches, sorting laundry, and censoring out my art, language, clothing, schedule, and life in general in order to fit the needs of the child. But damn, she\’s great to have around, at least when she\’s not following me around like a shadow every second of the waking day that I am near her. I miss my porn-saturated life. At this rate I\’d even settle for something a little heavier than a PG rating.
But enough about the children I don\’t want (stab me in the utereus if it ever starts to grow another human life form) — I should talk about the child that I still am, instead. Next week I face the greatest of all the fears that I have accumulated since 2002. New York. The city that rendered me permanently gimpy when I was thirteen. Ten years later, I\’m finally going back. Ten to one I end up with double lung pneumonia again. I ought to get an ID collar tattooed on my neck for when they find my body in my hotel room, dead from dehydration and my body temperature still at over 105. Because that is my fucking luck.
No, in all honesty I am really looking forward to it, and I think I\’ll be okay. I\’ve got plenty of cash saved up, as well as a bunch of shoots lined up. My hotel room is already booked and paid for. If anybody ones to come visit me, give a yell. Before the month of August is out I\’ll have breezed through New York, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Baltimore, Richmond, southwestern Virginia, and West Virginia in three weeks. Not bad for the chronically fatigued. Just means I\’ll be spending the next few weeks in bed recuperating before I go back to New York for the Republican convention. It is said that the adult sex industry\’s profits are going to quadruple in the week that the Republicans are going to be there; I want to test out that estimate for myself. (No, I can\’t figure out the logic of a Washingtonian going to New York to whip Republican booty when there is plenty to be had here in DC year round, either. Guess it\’s just the novelty of the convention.)
Time to go meet with another photographer. So exciting.
