"I can still hear the soft Southern winds in the live oak trees/and those Williams boys, they still mean a lot to me/Hank and Tennessee/I guess we're all gonna be what we're gonna be."

Putting the 'ho back in boho.

I'm a hair stylist/cutter/colorist. I would say I'm a "hair designer" but I think that's a little pretentious for OKCupid. It's a job, but maybe not a career. I dunno, I have business cards now.

Every now and then, I work in theater: writing, designing, and acting. I'm also studying it at CUNY.

I sort of volunteer a lot. It is not unusual to find me working the door or bartending at a grassroots fundraising party, or painting and scrubbing the walls at a queer homeless youth shelter, or protesting in front of Bloomberg's office over cuts to HIV/AIDS housing programs. I should point out that this makes me seem like a much better person than I actually am.

...making fancy espresso drinks, holding my liquor, party chit-chat, researching things to death, writing trivia questions, standardized tests and getting into college, working the system, giving people haircuts, generalized style decisions. I'm a pretty good cook: for instance, I can also bust out all Southern-like and make you up a mess-a-sumthn, and people say I make a mind-blowing penang curry (see also: panang curry.)

Also, I'm really good at making other people feel really interesting.

My hair. I spend a lot of time on it.

I listen to: Loretta Lynn. Yma Sumac. Sleater-Kinney. Lil Kim. Linda Ronstadt. Patsy Cline. Shirley Bassey. Mahalia Jackson. Chaka Khan. Kitty Wells. Johnny Cash. June Carter. Nina Simone. Emilou Harris. The Pointer Sisters. Wanda Jackson. Grace Jones. And lots of 60s girl groups, and lots of gay bar shit. Oh, and Pimsleur language tapes, though I generally give up after like the third lesson.

I watch: Dog Day Afternoon. Sunday, Bloody Sunday. Altman's Three Women. Nashville. Beyond the Valley of the Dolls. Harold and Maude. Cabaret. Chinatown. Network. All the President's Men. Taxi Driver. Carrie. Annie Hall. Klute. Basically, I only watch movies from the seventies.

I read: The internet. Susan Stryker. Donna Haraway. Samuel Delaney. George Chauncey. Esther Newton. Alison Bechdel. Marjane Satrapi. Mark Beyer. Dorothy Alison. Julia Serano. Michelle Tea. Shelley Jackson. Jeffrey Eugenides. Susan Sontag. Tennessee Williams. Arlene Dahl. Opera scores and libretti. The DSM-IV Casebook. Sewing/crochet/knitting patterns. The back of the shampoo bottle, you know, whatever.

I have seen every film Woody Allen has ever written or directed, and I once wrote three papers in one semester about The L Word.

I'm not proud.

Sexuality, media, politics, identity, gender, the intersection of language+desire, race, gentrification, Bushwick, my hair, American Idol, what to have for lunch, and what to do next.

hot tranny mess

...you wanna watch a movie (by which I mean, you wanna watch a movie, not "watch a movie," though maybe we can do that some time, too). You should message me if you have a checkered past and want to tell me all about it. You should message me if you play a silly instrument and want to jam out. You should message me if you need an actor for your new brilliant play. You should message me if butch and your gender identity/expression line up in some way. You should message me if you have an atypical work week and wanna grab a cup of coffee on a Monday afternoon.

Try it. You might like it.