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You're this curious?

Gosh. I may regret this … I still have to clean it up. It's a lot like how I speak with mixed tenses and madness, but if you’re curious, this is fairly thorough, although I am probably missing a huge bunch of people.

FANGS
or How did I get here?

In 1997, I used to work two jobs in order to accommodate a band schedule. I needed a part-time day job and a night job so I could nestle in those precious hours with my alternalife bandmates. During the day I was a clown company office manager. Beware - the sitcom is coming. At night I was a receptionist and facts interpreter for a limousine company - "He's circling Ma'am. He'll be in front of your door in minutes. Yes, I know you're already late for the airport"... As you can imagine, the night job was a little more uptight about my getting to work on time. But, while I am many things on this planet, I am not a drone. I can act like one, and for a few dollars per hour can put on the act quite convincingly… for awhile. But then I burn out. I awakened to this inevitability at the limo company, the day I decided to get fangs for Halloween.

I needed fangs.
I needed fangs for Halloween.

No. I really needed these custom fangs that were way out of my price range for anything superfluous. But this was not superfluous. This was important. I needed fangs and that was it.

What I needed was a transformation. What I needed was to wake up to the fact that I was not a drone. And by this I mean someone who can do the same thing day in and day out without being creative. Someone who just takes orders and gets the job done. DO YOUR JOB! An automaton.

Some people are great drones. We need drones. I can pretend to be a drone, but ultimately, I will fail you as a drone. You need a good drone. I can be a caterpillar, but I am a bad, fake drone. The cocoon was splitting and wings are invisible when someone is transforming. You can feel them when a transformed person enters a room, even though you can’t see them fluttering. The person might not know it is happening to them, so it is hard to explain, and harder to get sympathy for the irregularities. What emerges is a confidence that they didn’t have before, but this can be annoying if you need this person to be a good drone and get to work on time.

Naturally, I was held up at the costume shop that housed the fang lab. The line was out the door and down the block. I got whisked in because I had an appointment, but they were beyond booked. They were like Eastern Airlines in their heyday when I used to ride free by checking in and waiting for the plane to fill up with anxious people while a crazed stewardess rushed out begging for volunteers to miss their flights in exchange for a roundtrip plane ticket. The costume shop was crowded like that, yo. They’d gone Eastern. It was packed full of other people waiting for their transformations. Only that they probably weren’t late for work at 6:15pm.

But I did not know I needed such a deep transformation. Hindsight is 20/20. I knew I needed some kind of overhaul but that was another amorphous piñata of life. I was tired. I was always tired. I guess I was tired of whacking away at the piñata and not getting any goodies. When that happens you just want the goodies, not some deep understanding about what kind of person you are and what weapons you naturally own to obliterate the piñata. I wrote a song called Secret Special Toy Surprise about this feeling. I should have known why I needed these fangs, but I didn’t.

I should have been nervous. I told them at work that I might be 15 minutes late but the fact was more like 45 minutes - easy. That means getting out in 45 minutes. That means getting back no sooner than an hour late. AN HOUR!!! I pictured my boss with sweaty pulsing veins popping out of his forehead. What!? AN HOUR!?!?!! Oh, I should have walked out of the costume store and come back another day… but the lines were going to be long everyday. So I didn’t sweat it.
What was he going to do? Fire me?

He was the same age as me. Exactly the same age. Like, he and I had the same exact birthday but we couldn’t be more different. He inherited his dad’s business. I was apparently turning into a vampire. He had lots of money, a nice car and a buxom girlfriend. I couldn’t figure it out, but the important thing was that I didn’t care.

How did these fangs become so important? No logic. They just were. For the first time in my life, I just stopped caring about the mindless job that kept me alive. Somehow, I knew that I’d be okay. Other times I’d tried to leap from reality, the net did not appear. The bills did. But in the past, I had used the term “burn-out” too loosely. I had simply been burned. You heal from a burn, though it hurts. When you are truly burned out, you either die or regenerate.

Today I felt eerily good. Is this what death is like? I calmly assumed the position and let this stranger put his fingers in my mouth. He was a big boy with a sweet face and long hair. His name was Father Sebastian and his assistant was a little pixie named Cleo and his polisher was a slightly wolverine man named Vinnie. Cleo called Father Sebastian by his other name, Todd. The shop was literally buzzing with anxious people freaking out about what to wear on Halloween. I shouted over the noise to tell them I was sad to not wear my pointy new teeth very often, assuming that I needed an occasion. I could barely hear the fang people gush about dominatrixes and wild parties but I listened intently, trying not to drool with all the stuff in my mouth.

While the boy father kept checking the length of the fangs, I was told about the vampire scene in New York by a very friendly, flouncy-shirted guy named John. He had lots of rules and strict ideas about all of it and the other people all nodded absentmindedly as he spoke and they worked. Then the question was put to me, very matter-of-factly, “What kind of vampire are you?” It was the deepest question I’d been sincerely asked in a long time. I didn’t have my answer memorized, like he expected. But I was not ashamed. I said that I was the type of vampire that can adapt to any situation. And then I babbled a bit about morphing or something. I figured that all living things are vampires to some extent. You take of the life essence of something else, transform it into fuel, and you sometimes choose to give others your secrets. He said, “Right… uh huh. Well! I think you’re a Toreador.” I was like, huh? He had a category? No. John didn’t have categories. He had some whole game down pat.

John ran a Live Action Role Playing game, LARP for short – like Dungeons and Dragons but in a modern setting with vampires and gothy girls in the basement of a nightclub called Mother. He knew too much about this game and I looked at him like he had two heads. But I liked this creature. I liked them all. I smiled with my new teeth. They looked totally real. They were mine. I would eat brown rice for a week to pay for my bloodthirsty grin, but they were mine. I was ready to walk back to the office about an hour and a half late.

I had never been this late to any job ever. My boss looked at his watch and then looked at me, as if that was supposed to send shivers of guilt down my spine. Instead, I must have had a placid expression. I know I’m late. But I’m here now and it will never happen again. I expected a, “You’re right it won’t. YOU’RE FIRED!”. But instead he was genuinely shocked. Alrighty. He went on to say something else but the ringing phone interrupted and I got it, cheerfully, “Oh our drivers are never late. Are you sure? Let me double check.” I looked up and he was gone. He never mentioned it again. The dispatcher had been looking at me through his window with his eyes wide open and crazy like I had two heads, or like I’d grown wings. I gestured to the phone, as usual, and he barked “He’s circling! Tell her he’ll be around the corner in a minute”.

Halloween was not a big deal. I went to a nice loft party and wore a long black dress. Some people asked me why I didn’t come in costume and I just smiled. I walked around a bit, surprising people and then I went home. Was this why I needed the fangs?

So I stayed on for awhile with the two jobs, but I started to go to Mother once a month to John and Father Sebastian’s LARP – the live action role playing game where you pick the kind of vampire you are, your weapons, your talents and your motives. You settle fights with the old game of “rock-paper-scissors” and you order red drinks so you can pretend it’s blood. They made a drink called a bloodbath that is red wine and raspberry Chambord but it did have a weird bloody ring to the taste so I stuck it out with Merlot or Cranberry vodkas. Mother was the little club in the West Village with the jewel box stage and the full-on deep red theatre curtain. The game was downstairs, but I kept going upstairs to check things out, using the drinks as an excuse.

After looking up all the rules and suggestions in the book I bought at the gaming store, I learned that he was right. I was indeed a Toreador! And after much deliberation my name was Delphine Abraxas! What was good about being a Toreador, a social kind of vamp who throws parties and acts all fabulous, is that you can flit about the room and make conversation. It’s okay. That’s the character. I hadn’t thrown a party in years but it saved me from having to be all cool in the corner looking dangerous after work, like most of the people there with special martial arts prowess or majesty, which you can buy. I created an excuse to have a good time no matter what. But John was serious about the points everyone was supposed to get. It was really a competitive game for him, as the storyteller who makes all the scenarios and rules would be. He kept dashing off to preside over some gothic vixen’s rock-paper-scissors moment. I was just happy to wear my fangs, which is just like a Toreador, really. How decadent! I started to think of people in the vampire gaming categories. Patsy from AbFab? Toreador. Edwina? An insane Malkavian. Joan Collins’ character in Dynasty? A corporate fiend called a Ventrue!

John told me that my mission was to turn the secret vampire hunter nun into a vampire. Dahling! What am I supposed to do? Chat her up to death? Like a good Toreador I didn’t read all the way through the rule book, so I was pretty lost, gaming-wise. Luckily, the nun whom I had to consume/revive turned out to be an expert geeky gamer who knew the rules inside out and kindly stepped out of character to let me know how to seduce her. Meanwhile, the music was good and I kept wandering upstairs away from the game, taking some kohl-eyed beauty with me. One of my favorite vamps was D’Drennan. He makes beautiful things out of metal and was always dressed to the nines and a half. We’d escape. We’re in character right? Of Course! The vampire game would end at 11pm but the club opened at 10pm for the Click and Drag night. So, men in tutu’s and androgynous people would filter in, looking robotic and silvery. And the music would be thumping and video monitors were everywhere with things that were created for the party, specially. We would manage to incorporate the clubgoers into the game, often without them having clue and then we’d just join them when the game was over. But the lines were thin.

Mother was run by Chi Chi Valenti and Johnny Dynell. I hadn’t heard about them in ages, but it didn’t take long to learn that Mother was the home of Jackie 60, a party that had been running steadily for years at various locations. They hadn’t disappeared. I had.

I had been underwater for a long time. It felt like I’d missed a century. By the time I emerged, there was a whole school of rock music that I’d missed in the early to mid 90’s, my band was somewhat in trouble and I wondered if I should just quit making music, I had no relationship to speak of and I had two dead-end jobs that could never lead anywhere. Really, how high up the clown ladder can you go? In exchange for a stable life, I had given up freedoms regarded as disposable, childish and ineffective, but found that I had given up my joy and gotten nothing.

I took in a big crazy breath, as if I’d run out of air and wasn’t sure when the next breath would be
The only time I’d been to Mother before all this was when one of our gay clowns brought me to check out an 80’s night there called Heroes, run by Michael T. I had mentioned that I’d like my band to play the club, but he said to call Chi Chi and then he got distracted and I didn’t want to bug him further. But it wasn’t just the parties that intrigued me. The freedom was dizzying. You could do anything here. I learned that Chi Chi kept a costume room behind the office to dress their performers for Jackie 60 and their other flashy events. They had a real dressing room with chairs and a lit mirror the length of the wall and a coat rack. They had smoke machines, a projector, gels to change the lights every night and a great sound system. This was perfect. It was the theatrical underground I had always imagined.

I got honest with myself. I am a freak. I think khaki is a bad word from my childhood. If things were khaki, they were stinky and bad, no? Years before, my ex had one day lovingly taken me to the Gap so I could be respectable for his parents. He hated my high heels and black clothes. Why couldn’t I just wear crisp white blouses? He hated so much of what was external about me that I figured it wasn’t a big deal to let it go, considering he loved me so much. I let him do this and I paid with my soul. He looked like what I was supposed to marry so I grinned and beared it. I hated him before I finally forgave him and let him go. Hate is poison. Try to avoid hate. It’s bad for your skin. And if you are happy in khakis, don’t let anyone change you. But if you should come near the underground wearing that crap, the doorperson isn’t going to let you in the door. And the underground is my home. I had found my people. They looked completely insane. They were probably completely touched, but finally, I’d found my way home.

Chi Chi so loved the vamps that she gave Father Sebastian a night called Long Black Veil. The LARP faded, but he had this idea of turning the game into something you could live every day, without the rock-paper-scissors. Eventually, he would wish that rock-paper-scissors would fix his enigmas. But he loved nothing more than having a legitimate excuse to talk to girls, and party flyers were like having a license. Other people just leave them around in piles around clubs or in shoe stores on 8th street, but very few clubnights in this city got the individual promotional attention that Sebastian gave his nights. He would stop and talk to everyone he gave a flyer to, especially if they had breasts. So, the vamp nights started doing really well. I asked Sebastian if he would let my band play Long Black Veil. He said, “sure!” and we negotiated a price.

So in 1998, we played Long Black Veil and the night went well. I wore my fangs. Often, New York clubs get colorful bands that don’t sound good. They spend too much time on their look. And Mother was generally very lenient on people with a nice looking show. Well, we didn’t really have our look down as a band, but we had been rehearsing and the show was well received. At the end of the night Sebastian couldn’t pay us. I said it was okay. I’d make him find a way to make it up to me. That what I wanted was more gigs. I never told the band there was a problem. From then on I called him Todd.

Chi Chi said she heard about the gig and called to book the band for Click and Drag, naming the theme after us. The band at that time was called Jet Fetish. So, for that night, people dressed up as flight attendants, air traffic controllers, stewardesses, etc. Abby Ehmann, one of the producers of the night, was in an appropriate jump suit. I remembered her, for some reason. The big smile? We got paid and we got drink tickets. All was good

The band continued, but everybody but the bass player and I had trouble brewing at home. One day at rehearsal, after a pretty successful gig, everyone came in with a personal announcement. One guitarist announced his girlfriend was pregnant and that they were moving back to England so they could have socialized medicine. My other guitarist was having girl trouble and decided that he had to go to Portland Oregon, to chill out. My drummer announced that his wife wanted a divorce, that he was devastated, and that he had to drive to LA and move there. My co-writer, Brian, an avid born-again christian who tolerated my vampiric hijinks with the patience of Jesus himself, announced that he was only going to make music for his fellowship and that he no longer wanted to bother with commercial music. My bass player looked at me and told me to call any time.

I was not upset. I quit the clown company. It was just time. I had told enough people how much the clowns were, what they did and how much they cost. I’d had enough of Barney teeth grinning at me and the mean clown who painted children’s faces with permanent marker every weekend even though we’d get complaints every Monday morning. But we’d always send him out to the far gigs cuz he had a car.

So, I started writing on my own and it was hard. Brian was such a genius. I mean, he channeled from a higher place. I wrote the melodies and the lyrics, but the beds he laid down were gorgeous. So I wrote Morpheus Rising. It is probably the simplest song I’ve ever written. I used a submarine sound to start with and a trip-hop groove. I made a video. I wrote a bit more and really avoided thinking about playing out live. The thought of having to start yet another band from scratch left me completely exhausted from the idea. I didn’t have the strength to even read the Village Voice ads, much less place one. I’d go to Mother occasionally and was always impressed with the drag queens. They’d do one song in a beautiful gown and everyone seemed to love it. Cheers. Applause. And often it was a lip synch! But they loved it if you sang. And if you sang well? Oh honey! They had it so easy I sighed and just kept a low profile ‘til I could figure things out.

So, in August Todd invited me to come out to Brooklyn. He lived in Williamsburg before it was trendy because he has an entrepreneurial instinct that others would kill for. He just knows. He doesn’t always know what to do with his brilliant ideas once they take off, but he’s got a good eye. We talked for hours and he told me about his festival in New Orleans for Halloween 1998. I made some suggestions and he said he’d pay me and send me out to NoLa, three times - to reconnoiter, promote and run the event. I hadn’t thrown a party in years, but had been thinking about it. I went from 0 to 60 in 10 seconds flat. I became Mistress Eve, short for “eve-nts”, for the Endless Night Festival in New Orleans at the Omni Hotel.

And it is an endless night for me. I don’t sleep the week of the festival and we have things scheduled all weekend. I become the point person for all things EN 98, and it got so it was just easier if I handled things. I told Todd to have fun. Your strength is in your ideas. Now, let me run things. Godhead plays with Cult of the Psychic Fetus opening on the Friday night and we have 1000 people go through that door.

I actually became the Toreador Elder. I had a special name and a special job. Unfortunately, I had no money. Todd paid me exactly as we had agreed, only that I had no idea how much work it would be. There was no way I could do anything else, and it was not enough. But Chi Chi had flown down to MC the festivities and noticed that I had become cook, chief and bottle washer, and she offered me a job. On Halloween, D’Drennan and I walk through the streets of New Orleans and it was completely magical. We had befriended the vamps in NoLa and on Halloween it seemed the city welcomed us with open arms. We see friends everywhere.

But then I am exhausted and broke. I am tired but it is a different kind of tired. I feel like I accomplished something. It was like I’d jumped out of a plane for the first time and not killed myself. I feel like I can do anything.

My friend, Destin, who was a clown and former officemate, had come to some LARP’s (a fantastic Malkavian!) and gives me invaluable brotherly help in New Orleans. In our room, we share with Jack & Bridget. I was so tired one night- I come into the room after everyone has gone to sleep and I can’t see. So, I ASSumed since Jack and Bridget had come home earlier, they probably took the farther bed, so I creep into the closer bed so I can sleep for three hours before showering and putting on more eyeliner. It wasn’t long before we figured out that Destin was spread out like a swastika and that Bridget was not Destin. Destin just laughs at the idea of not having to be cramped. Evil clown. Bridget still refers to herself as not being Destin, “Hi! I’m not Destin!”

On the plane home, Destin looked at me and the circles under my eyes, which I finally did not hide under gobs of make-up, and said, you worked really hard. You’re more like St. Eve than Mistress Eve. It was a nice thing to say, especially since I needed a name for my project and that had a nice ring to it. He joked about how he now knew too much about the vampire scene now and was sorry he could not be Lord Shade because he would need to belong to a house and he wasn’t sure he wanted to join a stranger’s house. As if anyone he knew was not strange. I said he could join The House of St. Eve! And T.H.O.S.E. people were born. I came home and sent out invites to a special private party idea I had concocted. D’Drennan created the house sigil and we unveiled it at the party. He gave me a walking stick as a present. too. He put a kind of an ‘e’ as the headstock and you can see it in the Lord of the Rings intro video on this site. But the best gift he ever gave me was introducing me to Paige, who has been a huge part of all aspects of T.H.O.S.E. (who is one of the few people I know who does not have a website but could fill one up easily with everything she creates) and Suzi, whom I speak to 3 times a day and who has traveled as a performer with me on various escapades!

When I got back, Chi Chi had a couple of nights that needed help and she offered me what she had. I was to help set up at Click and Drag and I was to become Michael T’s partner for the popular yet dodgy 80’s night HEROES. My favorite person to set-up Click & Drag with was Abby.

John, the LARP storyteller, asked me if I would do a special LARP style performance for his show at Click and Drag because they were doing a kind of role-playing theme night. Okay. So, I sang Morpheus Rising to track. It was completely nerve wracking, but I got through it. I had never sung to track before and it was weird. I had a ton of respect for those drag queens. I had a couple of drinks and went home. The next day I found a phone number in my purse. It said, “Dave” and a number. I called but admitted that I couldn’t remember who he was. He had my number but he couldn’t remember either. So we met for a drink. He would be the guy with the purple hair. How did I miss that? Well, we met at Life Café and did not remember meeting at all. It was like somebody stuck our numbers in each other’s bags. But he offered me a job at his office. Pause. Horror. Office. Thoughts of my bills. Knowledge that I was not making enough at Mother. I had quit the limo company before the festival. I said yes.

At the web company that Dave worked at, I met the guy who designed this website. He wants to be known as Twelve. So, 12 and I hit it off and we do lunch whenever. Also, at this company, John Hopkins, who introduces me to Kerry, plus Chris from I, Parasite and Jay Geralds of in-nyc.com.

I co-produced Heroes with Michael T and turned it into a great night to see live music and get various aspects of the 80's thrown at you like an errant cream pie. We bonded. He is my long lost sister. We’re both Cuban. We love the 80’s. Fierce!

Among my jobs at Mother, one of my favorites was doing the Click & Drag update line on the answering machine. At the end of explaining all the themes before I run out of tape, I had to say these golden words, “A cyber-fetish dress code is extremely enforced with a minimum of head to toe black. Absolutely no blue denim or khakis”.

1999 began. Heroes never had a big budget. So, Michael and I often did stuff to fill the evening’s roster of entertainment. When I saw how much the drag queens made to do one song. I decided that Heroes was a great place to hone the craft. I had only done that one song to track back in the Fall of 1998, but he said I could do Eurythmics for the January party. I sang Jennifer and learned never to do a downtempo song again if it’s you’re only track. Live and learn. Heroes grew to be respected for great performers and really good music. My favorite night was The B52’s night. We put together a house band and have a few singers. The energy was amazing. Though there were other times that were also super memorable. St. Eve cut her teeth at Heroes, for sure. From here, I got a decent reputation. And I met such wonderful people. Among many, Shane Savant was kind enough to gogo for us and occasionally grace us with one of his songs.

12 told me about Missy Galore and how much I should meet her and her partner, Buck. They are called Feedbuck Galore. So, I went up to her at a Unity Gain party and she gave me her number on a swizzle stick that is still on my computer keyboard. It’s good luck. I am sure.

About a month later, I had a real panic attack and went into shock at the web company when my female boss told me that I am guilty of sexual harassment for telling my male co-worker that he is a "big strong man". THIS IS TRUE! Now, I know that having all your blood go to your vital organs and to have teeth chater suddenly because you're freezing is a strong reaction, but one that tells me I can no longer work an ordinary, droney office job. And while this one paid better than the other automaton jobs, it was the droney-est. I was dying. So I quit.

I leapt. Deeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwwww…… (That was the sound of leaping into the void. The net had not been hit yet, so the jury was out regarding its existence.)

I planned a party.

I told Missy about my July party and she said it was her near her birthday. We celebrated her birthday at Paige’s and it was all very successful. I paid my bills. All was good.

Safe. Regeneration truly begins. No more “day jobs” though I work ten times harder.

Missy enjoyed her party so much she introduced me to her partner and to one of their clients who needed someone to cater their VIP room for a large-scale-super-over-the-top-kind-of-party. I said okay and worked for Josh Harris of Pseudo.com, and through him, Matt E. Silver. On one of the nights, one of my barbacks left with his girlfriend, and Flambeaux of the P Cult saved the night with his bartending skills! He was also the guy who made amazing head dresses. Velocity had told me all sbout him. I can’t even remember where I met her exactly, but it was somewhere between Mother and The Bank nightclub. I later learned that Flambeaux is a firegod, which is how everyone really knows him but firegods emerge from ash, many a time. I know, because i still have some of that ash on my shoes. Through this and 12, I met Gecko and countless other cool people, including the Collective Unconscious folks, plus I give the Mother bar staff extra work.

I put together a huge Halloween party for 1999, but I got shut down by the cops after two hours because the building owner hadn’t done the paper work I had paid him to do. In the meantime, I met unbelievable artists and good future friends like Eve Prince and the Unto Ashes clan who introduced me to AJ., and he introduced me to Bec, aka Honeygun. But Matt E. saves the day with a few killer catering jobs with MTV and other media giants.

Clocking in 2000 was amazing as I worked a two-week-STRAIGHT party forJosh, as well as sang at my own birthday party (Dec 29) at Heroes doing a Kate Bush theme (LUV Kate!) and stage managed the Jackie 60 Christmas show with Richard Move. One of my key players becomes Sara Delphine who was working at Mother at a time when they didn’t have enough work for her and we bonded over the 2 week gig. In February of 2000 I performed at the BloodLetter’s Ball that produced the album cover on Demonstration(a live shot by Swav Jusis) and the initial video clips with Ryan on the Otherworldly Mammal video comp by Denny Daniel.

2000 I spent writing and performing a lot. Between Heroes and my outside St. Eve gigs, I didn’t even start listing them ‘til July. I’ll have to look up those old flyers. Shane went on to become a promoter, and created the mighty Zenwarp parties. This was the first year I went to Burning Man - with Alexia, whom I met through HEROES. And Sara and Destin came too! After Mother closed, Abby hired me as her door person for her Kitsch Inn party. Then Todd flew me down to New Orleans for the Endless Night Festival at the House of Blues, but this time as a performer. I told him as sweetly as I could that I would never produce another event with him again. 2000 closed with my trip to London to play Slimelight and the Electric Ballroom courtesy of Francis (whom I met at the House of Blues), and consequently his friends Rex (DJ) and Dette, the owner of Slimelight.

In 2001 I supported Gary Numan with Empress Stah & Sally Kamelyan of Torture Garden and then with Tim from Sulpher and his pal Nathan 80, and then with AJ, Tim and Paul Batchelor from Ion, also thanks to Francis' strange but effective machinations.

Later in 2001, I met Fred Ditman and put together a band with Kerry and AJ to play the Convergence Festival at Irving Plaza. We played out. We wrote. Recorded. I threw parties. Shot and edited video. Honeygun often joined us with her smashing video displays.

In 2002 Abby came with me to the Burning Man festiva for my second go-round. In 2003 we’re doing it again with Paige, Anne MacDonald (amazing artist, met through Paige) and Amy Shapiro (performer extraordinaire, met through Abby)! Look them up on my Shows page. You’ll see some impressive events.

The rest is all in the Shows list but the degrees of separation are small and all attributable to the day I decided to get fangs.