January 31, 1999.

Why the enormous picture of Stacy? Last Saturday at the Garden, our picture was taken with a digital camera...but the rest of us look like fruit loops. Dorky fruit loops. So here's the only attractive one out of all five of us. Enjoy.

Contrary to ensuing confusion, this picture does not represent last night at the Garden. Had Stacy been there, you would have been notified to put on black clothing and head to your nearest goth club. This has been a test of the Nightclubbing Stacy System. This was only a test.

But yes, I did spend last night at the Garden. Once again I was sleepy and without firm plans, but I managed to get myself together to help Dirk stalk a Garden regular. I'm just kidding...Dirk would never stalk anyone. But we have been dancing three Saturdays in a row, on the off-chance of seeing Nezerin (i.e. the stranger who laced up my dress prior to being introduced as we made our way to the Bauhaus show). I can think of worse ways to spend a Saturday night. Especially since it gives me a chance to show off my new accessories.

Found Javina whilst crowd watching in the corner, and we had a chance to chat about my current Topic A: estrogen. I thought she'd be pleased to know about my conversion to the Pill, since she urged me to take the step on the night of the binge. But of course, she keeps up with me via this page (as I keep up with her via her own), so it wasn't exactly news. Especially since I've been nattering of nothing else lately. She looked decidedly glam in her goth finery, and seemed a lot happier than I've seen her in awhile - I think the weekend with Buck did her a hell of a lot of good. I, too, wish he could live here or at least visit every weekend, if only to see her this up.

Then Dirk showed up, and I felt it necessary to stop talking about my reproductive system.

Typical night at the Garden. A few good songs, interminable patches of bad industrial, beautiful boys dancing with themselves, and tourists looking to find a nice little gothette to take home. At one point during "Temple of Love," I found that I'd inadvertently danced into the Circle of Large Sweaty Men Trying to Pick Up. I always get kind of embarrassed on their behalf...all their plumage show is for naught, as I've never allowed myself to be picked up at a club. Especially not now, when I already have a skinny boy who dances by himself in the corner.