The excitement was contagious. You could feel it, smell it even. Glued to TV. Wine. Food. Friends came over. Pennsylvania. Then Ohio. Florida. And bam at 11PM they called it.
We screamed. We toasted. We cried.
Americans did the right thing. Obama!
I am not a religious person, somewhat spiritual, but tonight I am praying. America has a choice tomorrow to turn direction and embrace hope. Hope of equal civil rights. Hope of a dream, still alive. Hope of a better world. Respect on an International stage. Running away from cheap-shots and manipulation and racism and conservatism.
On TV I keep seeing this same Obama/Rev. Wright ad put out by Republicans. "Too radical. Too risky," it says.
America houses many fucked up people. But things ain't the same. Tables have turned. People are waking up. Change is coming.
Too risky? Too perfect is more like it.
Obama has run a strong, steadied marathon of a campaign. He put all my Hillary-anger to rest. He's made me realize he was the only choice, all along.
Appealing to people's worst inclinations (ignorance, racism, fear) the Republicans have run a despicable campaign. Finally, it looks like taking the high-road is paying off. And that is the only road to take in such problematic times.
Mom, are you listening? Your vote matters. I hope you can see why sooner than later.
Good guys just might not end up finishing last. I am praying and hoping we elect Obama tomorrow. I may break down if he does not. That much is at stake: my belief in all that is great about America.
Imagine Lisa Stansfield (the voices are shockingly similar), younger, blonder, freakish. Imagine Lisa trading her R&B schlock for pulsing, deep electronics, but still tipping the hat to classic disco. Imagine her clubbing with Leigh Bowery and crying a lot. You'd have Roisin Murphy. And she's damn near perfect.
I often trumpet the next ingénue of dance music. But they never have staying power. Even Robyn, who I crushed on hard earlier this year, eventually lost her shine. Roisin is different. She's got this soul. Infectious soul.
I loved Moloko (download Forever More, right now). Always did, but never obsessed. This album, Overpowered, is genius. Pure genius. And the videos. You'll gag. For days.
Stripped down electronics. Disco's back. Brilliant. Weirder. Bjork's blonde soul-sister has stolen the show, crafting the best dance record, from beginning to end, in the last ten years. Find it. Tell everybody she's your lady.
I woke, walked to work. Came home. Watched political shows. Obsessed. Nervous. Anxious. Ben's in Minneapolis. I left CNN tonight. So much better than CNN.
Date night was sweet and Pylos was fantastic. I slept in today, missing the gym. Worked then gym then TV with Ben as we clicked on our laptops, going from HuffPo, obsessing over the election, to travel sites, looking at where we're going on vacation in February.
We've narrowed it down to Belize, Buenos Airies, or Mexico City.
I got up early (Ben was much later than I) and I actually went and ran 4 miles. Brunched with Alireza at Elmo and then Ben and I picked up a shelving unit at DWR. Home, organized, getting ready for date night at Pylos.
Beautiful weather. I could not get the make-up off so I looked like some heroin addict. It took all the energy in the world to get up and go to the Halloween store, where, yes, I waited 30 minutes to get in. All for white clown paint. Did my make-up. Donned orange YSL, lime Paul Smith shoes, and lime driving gloves and we were off! Ben and David Matesanz and Ferris and group were Mormons. Denise was Catwoman (Eartha's!) and Jesse Cozart and Charlie Currie were my henchmen. Talked up Josh of Josh and Josh at a party. Had fun. Laughed. And then desserted my crew, tired, and unable to consume another drink. I walked across town, 10 long blocks, with catcalls coming at me. Black guys loved my costume.
I was starving so at midnight I sat at the bar of the local diner and ate a pork chop. Then home, documented my sick, painted face with camera, and scrubbed it away.
I love being the Joker.
My downward spiral continued tonight (even though I did manage to run 6 miles in the AM). Hanno and Kelleher and Ben Roussel came over to get ready for a mask party around the corner. I painted our eyes (Ben wussed out) and then being the 3 most self indulgent queens in the world we proceeded to do an impromptu photo-shoot. The pictures and make-up are brilliant.
The party was cute. Andy Towle and Dave Grant were there and we drank, heavily, and went to another party where I don't remember a thing. God I don't know how or what time I arrived home.
Had a wonderful morning at the Plaza Hotel. I had breakfast with Jae Hah and we heard the president of Saks speak about the economy. The seminar was for Travel + Leisure. He had many an inspiring word. From there I worked. Lunched with Eric Riley, which was a treat. I even enjoyed a vegan lunch! Go figure.
I walked in the cold to Tyler Pankratz's charming little apartment for a his grandmother's chicken soup. OMG. I ate so much. I also drank a bottle of wine. Alone. Don't judge.
Lifted weights in the AM. Horrible rain. Slow work day. Catch-up, expenses, that sorta thing. Gym again in the evening. Spin class. Horrible instructor. Home.
