~ NOVEMBER 1, 1997~

as this is the first official entry in the imitation leather/imitation lover chronicles, ~kat~ would like to extend juicy virtual kisses to any and all of you that are reading this.....nothing personal, uh, it's just that, um, despite my aversion to dental dams, i'm pretty darn indiscriminate with my lips, and we won't even mention my hips.

why don't i introduce what all of this is....eh? bastet75: Da TeMpLe oV iMaGi NaTiOn is designed to provide a space for artists in general.....verbal, visual, aural, whatever. diversity is the key here at bastet75, and as this site grows and develops, so too will the archives of artists available for you to salivate over.

i'll be back with more.....um, imagination next time.

~NOVEMBER 11, 1997~

well, i can see i'm getting off to a grand start here in the chronicles. you know, now that i think of it, i was never really that good at keeping up with diaries and such.....except when traveling, because i go solo, and many times i have no one to rant to and am forced to satisfy my need with a journal and pen.

er, yeah, so......anyway.....

i am very much enjoying this song by marcy playground called sex and candy. the chorus reminds me of something i might have written when i was equating oral sex to hovering in the honeypots (ahhhh.....back in the day). "i smell sex and candy.....here, who's that lounging in my chair? who's that casting deep feeling stares in my direction? yeah, mama, this surely is a dream."

anyway, i digress. so, my birthday is coming up in a few, but despite my fervor to celebrate the births of others, i tend to lose interest in my own.....i think it's because of the fact that my family has always undergone the usual brand of winter depression, which hits its stride right around my birthday.....and i have no really fond memories of parties and family togetherness. we'll see how this year goes.

oh, yes, now it's g. love and special sauce. i love this band. so "feel good" it hurts.

~NOVEMBER 19, 1997~

jesus. i promise once the site is completely up and running to my rather critical satisfaction, (robert smith whining ".....it's never enough, it's never enough.....") i'll be as prolific in imitation leather/imitation lover as i am in.....other, er, areas. *wink*

ya see, i've been busy creating all new original art for this here place, just to keep things interesting and hopefully as eye-appealing as possible. i know the heavy graphics may piss ya off sometimes, but i'm sorry. i'm an artist, and boring fonts just won't do!!! i'm settling for 'em here in the chronicles, and in the written word areas, just for clarity and all of that crap, but that is it. you will not be subjected to boring content (outside of tha chronicles, that is) or design as long as i have my finger in this here pie. and, you know, i'm a-learnin', so it can only get better. ohhhhh.....famous last words.

honeys.....have a sweet night.

~NOVEMBER 20, 1997~

watch it, kids, it's anecdote time:

recently, one of my coworkers relayed a story to me about when he used to live in southeast d.c., which, i've heard through rumour and gossip, is a relatively risky place. he said that, a few years ago, there was a dance craze called 'the bitchslap' which entailed groovin' yer lil' ass then slapping your partner in the face. he also said that the only nights he'd go out to the clubs during this rather vile period were the gay nights because this particular craze seemed to have escaped the amusement of the queer underground.....in all actuality, they probably had gone through it all ready and abandoned it when the straight boys copped it, but that's neither here nor there.....what i thought was interesting about the anecdote was the fact that, as my coworker relayed it, most of the time the 'slaps' were more akin to a love tap, a light caress.....but sometimes, certain individuals interpreted this as a license to seriously wound their partner (unresolved relationship issues, no doubt -- *wink*) and couples would leave the club thoroughly bruised but heady with love. although i'm a talker, and i like to work things out on a calmer note (*cough*), for some strange reason i've got this twinge of respect for the hint of primal scream that 'the bitchslap' was laced with. but, then, i have a tendency to appreciate anything that's different from me.....just because it is.

i don't know if any of you are radiohead fans, but i personally feel that they have only gotten better from album to album.....methinks i am attracted to thom yorke's lazy eye.....i mean, how often do you come across english angst and strange ocular features? not since the thin white duke have we, the slovenly american public, been graced with such, er, novelty.

i am choosing to exit this eve with the immortal (?) words of mr. ben shepherd (recent whipping boy of the now defunct soundgarden) "so, magic doesn't work on you, then? the ole slight of hand?" choose your own adventure, kids.

~NOVEMBER 21, 1997~

"i'm so ugly, but that's okay, cuz so are you.....broke our mirrors."

even though i hail from the depressingly angst-ridden city of seattle, i am not, i repeat, i am not a nirvana fan. call me nostalgic for music borne of talent, but the only song i can bear by the late, not-so-great, k.c. is lithium.

but.....don't get me started.

have you heard the new radiohead cd?

.....kinda.....sparce, in a way.

have you heard the new portishead cd?

.....kinda......harsh, in a way.

have you heard the new spearhead cd?

.....kinda......sultry, in a way.

music, music, music.....and i'm all messed up again. i'm totally heady in music, you know? i lose myself to the bass, mostly.....which is why i've an unfortunate penchant for dating bassists. *shrug* they're good with their fingers, what can i say?!?!

tonight i'm lost to the saucy intonations of a nice bottle of white zin, and so am too fucking sold out to care about anything but the titillating tremors of.....nothing. uh, i should meditate, though.....as i feel the claustrophobia of yesterday and tomorrow seeping into today.

~NOVEMBER 22, 1997~

last night at the cafe (~kat~ works at the seventh hippest spot in the nation.....for whomever keeps track o' dat shit.....al gore?) we had the pleasure of hosting the rather splendid be-bop and destruction, purveyors of 'tough man jazz', which i think is a redundancy in itself, cuz i thought all jazz men were tough.....but, fortunately, the redundancy didn't spread to the music because they made schleppin' espresso to the uber-affected quite pleasurable.

this morning after leaving work and streaking through this fine pacnw city (seattle, kittens), i was struck by the fact that, at three-thirty in the morning, the streets were quite hoppin' with people.....i was quite appreciative of this, however, when the mighty ranita bonita took a turn for the worse and i had to get out on second avenue and give mah baby some lovin' (*note*: vw's don't run on gas, they run on smoochies). i was joined by a trio of fine dreads offering me help.....tha sweethearts. of course, i then felt like a complete git for french kissing the greasy engine parts.....but that's neither here nor there. i was/am thankful for their help.....always good to deal with like-minded peoples.....especially when hopped up on a tall-triple-shot-dry-capp. (coffee heads in tha know'll know. *wink*)

details, details, details.....seems i'm not the only one drug down by details, as, sadly, michael hutchence of inxs was found dead in his hotel room this morning.....by his own hand, the poor chap hung himself. this makes me a tad weepy, just because suicide sucks in general, but also because i had a special place in my heart for the late hutchence's trashie-rock-star persona. i mean, no one made slutting more cool than this gent. perhaps that's what finally did him in: he was just too hip. it's like having too much grace, it stains your life with quiet desperation. admittedly, i know very little about him, aside from his music, and i'm not one to follow the personal strains of individuals cast in the public light, but i do mourn the passing of this individual, kinda because i have personally visited those depths of depression and can understand how he felt, perhaps, before giving in to the sweet unknown of death. hmph.

um, yeah. until next time.....

~NOVEMBER 23, 1997~

i saw the film midnight in the garden of good and evil and it was just that: good and evil. there were so many good parts about this flick, that when the evil things occurred, they were almost easily overlooked.....but i fear this is yet another book-made-into-film-syndrome sufferer. perhaps it is because the makers of such a film know the story too well, therefore they remove essential parts to the film version mainly because they have this memory of how the story should go and they subconsciously fill in the blanks. or perhaps they rely on the assumption that viewers have already read the novel, in which case, i say why even bother making a film, if you are so positive everyone has read the book? seems redundant, but then, much of the happenings in this world seem fairly redundant to me. i must say, that as a film connoisseur, i used to be much more forgiving of lapses in detail in regards to filmatic versions of previously published works, but now i find it completely intolerable. when, of course, i've the time to get bitchy about such things.....

speaking of lapses in detail, my long-suffering novel has been undergoing some rather extreme reconstructions (seems everything is in my life these days.....transition, transition, transition) due to the fact that miss ~kat~ is reading a new nonfiction book about caribbean magic, and she had to add/remove facts and experiences accordingly. ever the purveyor of detail, it is very important for me to have this piece, even though it's fiction, to be factually correct, mainly because it crosses many cultures and traditions and i don't want to be guilty of stereotyping or generalizing. that's why i've been reading seven books at once lately (oooooh, my eyes hurt). anyway, because it covers so much information, the story itself has been incubating in my head for about a year now, and i've just recently begun writing the rough draft. my goal is to have it done before, oh......2035. and i'll tell you, at the rate i'm going, it'll be a tough deadline to meet. actually, i'm hoping that once i've filled in all the gaps in my knowledge regarding many areas of the book, the story is pretty straightforward, and hopefully i'll just be able to lay it all down.....

but, you don't really care about alla that, now do you?!?! i didn't think so. i apologize, here at imitation leather/imitation lover, the chronicles of one ~kat~'s mind droppings, we attempt to make the read as scintillating as possible, although we, like much of the rest of the human race, fall prey to rather self-indulgent displays of pseudo-intellectual-posturing. 'tis perfectly natural.....

*YaWn!*

~NOVEMBER 26, 1997~

wow. i feel a bit.....well, squirrely. tomorrow is thanksgiving and i've been baking pies all day long. like i told my sweetie: my two passions in life are food and sex, so i shall endeavor to become excellent at both. he, of course, has no objections. but then, he has no objections to whatever i wanna do.....except slack. it occurred to me that i haven't mentioned my better half before this, and that is actually quite unusual, since he is on my mind basically all the time. i think that thinking of someone is one of the best compliments.....anyway, i prolly thought that it would colour these chronicles with a sugar-coated drooliness that really is only apparent in my meanderings of my paramour. i'm actually quite a reserved individual......*laffin'*

anyway, i forgot, i see, to mention anything of my birthday goings-on, and actually, it went quite well. spent most of the day by myself painting with some new oils.....see, i've never really been into oils, i usually go for acrylic, but oils, i've found, offer so much more in regards to colour and texture.....i feel as if i've been reborn as a painter. get my fingers in on the action and WHAM!!!! instant party. but, i'm rambling.....back to the point, my birthday went extremely well, especially for my-bit-shady-anti-social-self.

hope y'all have your bellies properly distended mañana, as i know i will. what are you thankful for?

~NOVEMBER 28, 1997~

after thoroughly gorging myself on alla the trimmings this fine day, i was thinking about what i'm thankful for. certainly, there's always the ole standby: my health, my mighty ranita bonita's health, my family, etc. but this year i have something a little extra to be thankful for: my paramour, who, in his infinite wisdom (~kat~'s rackin' up the oral sex points....*wink*) has proved to be one of the most amazing individuals i've ever met.....and to have him in my life is such a sublime gift, i could just spit. sometimes i think i'ma wake up dreamin'.

thank you, my love, for loving me so sweetly. you are a fluid piece of art that stains my thoughts, ideas, inspirations, and work, and you have given me a new understanding of the phrase "multiple orgasms." mmmmmm-hmmmm!

what else? now that i've drooled over my schwanky?

oh, yes, the alex guilbert quartet is playing at the speakeasy cafe tonight, and i'm kinda stoked on it cuz i think i've sufficiently wooed a certain pianist who may, hopefully, have written a song in my rather silly honour, which he may play tonight, much to my girlie-girl satisfaction. being a performer myself, i've never been a good groupie, but i try. i've always thought it had something to do with leather mini's, but more and more, i think it has to do with pouty frosted lips. i think i'd have been a good groupie to, like, whitesnake, back in the day.....but i digress.

"but the real sky isn't good enough for these madmen."

still on the quest for, "what does that even mean?" i've been reading so many books on this and that and have been thinkin' a lot about meditating.....the subject of the nature of the roles of the sexes has come up quite often, actually, as, being a "liberated" grrrl, i am beginning to wonder what "liberated" really means. the definitions, it seems, of being "liberated" and "independent" have become equally, if not more, stifling as that of "housewife." choice, choice, choice.....i feel that, in their zeal to attain equality, "feminists" have become quite the opposite: masculinists.