Happy July, People

Only a few more days until I turn 32. Wheeeeeeeee! I'm so excited. I just love my birthday. It's so much fun!! This year it's on a Saturday, so I can't take the day off from work as my own day like I always do, and chances are I'll have to work that day anyway. Release dates and all. Yay. I'm like so ready to be a year older. Really I am.

I've been having some funky ass dreams lately, none that I will go into, and all probably related to my...well, let's just say that I haven't been feeling so well lately. 'Nough said on that one.

It has finally cooled down to the respectable 70s. Hallelujah. I hope we can keep that for a while.

Wow. That's it. No jokes. No quizzes. No funny bumper stickers or tales of road rage. Just another day.

Obviously Lacking Something Better to Do

A Newly Found Meme!! No groans, please. There's always the back button on your browser, you know.

1. What if you had to choose a single color to remain on Earth?

   I would probably choose sky blue. Although, all those kids hanging upside down from the jungle gym on playgrounds around the world could get really fucked up trying to figure out which way was down. Or maybe not.

2. What if you had to choose one song to remain on Earth?

   Most definitely "My Heart Will Go On," by the incomparable Céline Dion.

   OMG!! I am so kidding.

   No Answer.

3. What if you had to choose a single book to remain on Earth?

   Again, no answer. I clearly haven't read as much as I have claimed.

4. What if you had to choose one electronic device to remain on Earth (cars & planes included)?
   Well, let's see. It would have to be a device that didn't rely on other devices since they would no longer exist, right? All forms of power generation would be gone, so electricity would cease to be, unless of course you chose to keep a generator of electricity, but since that would be the only electronic object left, what would you do with it?

   So the phone is out, as is the boob tube, the computer, and the microwave. The automobile could probably still exist if you could refine your own petroleum and distill it into gasoline (or however it's done), and as long as those refining devices didn't rely on electricity. Same with planes and trains.

   I guess I would have to choose a portable listening device that would rely on some sort of media that was pre-existing, unlike a radio, but more like a CD walkman. But even that wouldn't last long because you would have to use batteries to power it, and once the supply of AAs was gone, no more music.

   Hmmm, am I missing the point here? Is this a backhanded way of illustrating how desperately this planet needs to embrace solar power?

5. What if you had to choose a single season to remain on Earth?

   I would have chosen fall for the extraordinary display of colors it provides in every state except California (or so it seems in the Bay Area). But then what if all of these "what-ifs" were existing concurrently and existing as I said they should? Then all the leaves would be blue. And so would the trees and the grass. I could choose winter, but then the snow would be blue and how could you find the yellow snow not to eat when it's blue, too? Summer's too hot for me. So spring? Blue flowers everywhere? That's OK. Blue mud?

Sunny Wednesday

Well, aside from waking up at five o'clock this morning, and aside from getting to work at eight o'clock this morning, it's not a bad day. Got the latest issue of Têtu at the mailbox. Finally tried one of those McGriddles things. I'm reluctant to admit that since I'm on such a health kick lately, and since I've been ill of the estomac as well, but it was an interesting taste. It reminded me of when I was in navy boot camp. For the first week I was there, I was petrified of the place. I remember thinking, "Oh my fucking god, what the fucking hell have I done to myself?" I couldn't eat a damn thing. I was scared I would vomit all over the place out of fear. Is that like redundant or what? But after the first week, I actually started to like boot camp. I think it had a lot to do with establishing a sense of order in my life that never existed before and hardly exists after. This is so not the point I was trying to make.

So, after I started eating again, every morning for chow, I would take two pieces of toast, coat each one with peanut butter, and slap a sausage patty in between them. It was so good. Honestly, it wasn't a hormonal 18-year-old thing to do, because by that time, the cooks had put enough saltpeter in our food to neutralize the sexual urges and such like they scared us into believing. Whatever. I'm sure that's just an old wives' tale. And if I was really in the need of a caloric boost, I would add to that an individual serving box of Frosted Flakes with chocolate milk. It's a wonder how I didn't turn out to be 220 pounds when I was 20 years old. I guess I was much more active then. *sigh*

Another good thing: I don't have to report for jury duty, and I am off the hook for the specified number of months, which I can't recall right now. Thank you, Alameda County.

It's Wednesday of a four-day work week. Friday is off, tomorrow is most likely very light. No clients. No releases. No drama. Well, two out of three isn't bad.

Recent Searches That Have Yielded This Website

• feet of arabic female artists
• video samples turning straight men to gay men (what, like their hair turns a different color during the process—if it were really a process—that you notice or something? this search is so fucked up it doesn't deserve an explanation, but i would really like one anyway)
• i had a dream i had sex with my friend we are both women what does this mean? (how could i possibly have the answer to this?)
• reincarnation lithuanian (one that's so close to my heart)

and one that makes total sense


• gay in the navy

And I Thought I Was Bored

I must have looked at this site for close to a half an hour just staring in awe. Boxing squirrels, dueling frogs, and Napoleon the Chimpanzee. Huh.

Pass the Bowl

MSN Health—Heavy Marijuana Use Doesn't Damage Brain

Happy Fourth. I used to love the Fourth of July when I was a kid. At night, we'd go to the island to watch the fireworks along with all of the other 100,000 people in my home town. The city hall of Cedar Rapids, Iowa is on an island in the Cedar River. It's split up into two or three different pieces because of the bridges that were built to span the river, which intersect the island. One of these pieces is a great open space where people gather during this festive holiday to watch the fireworks as they're launched over the river. It is a good memory of my childhood. I used to love to wait for the street lights to be shut off just for the fireworks. It was special to me because they never ever shut off the street lights for anything, you know? [My heart is so not into this explanation.]

Tonight, we'll probably cop a squat at one of the grassy bay-side parks of San Francisco to watch the works. Although we'll probably only get to see the clouds change different colors. We used to go up to Fish Ranch Road in the Berkeley/Oakland Hills, but this year we decided against it. Don't know why. It's a nice Friday off.

And speaking of Friday:

1. What were your favorite childhood stories? I loved Dr. Seuss books and Shel Silverstein's poems. I learned to read with Richard Scarry's books. I wish I could remember the name of the little worm who drove the apple car.

   And then there was a book I had for a long time. I can't remember the name or the author, and even the storyline is a bit faded from memory. I remember the story was about a dollhouse. The dolls that lived in the dollhouse were alive, but only at night. One of the dolls would always get its head stuck in the toilet of the dollhouse and would be stuck there until the girl who owned the dollhouse would come and set it free. I recall that the human family went on vacation, thieves tried to rob the house, and the dolls foiled their attempts and scared them away. I think of this story often, and I wish I could remember more about it. I would love to read it again now.

   I also read The Chronicles of Narnia at a very early age.

2. What books from your childhood would you like to share with [your] children?
   I like sharing Dr. Seuss' stories with anyone. They funny and poignant and completely relevant. I especially like The Lorax.
3. Have you re-read any of those childhood stories and been surprised by anything?
   I have read The Chronicles of Narnia since then, and I'm very surprised by the very religious overtones throughout some of the books. Of course, now I realize that C.S. Lewis was a deeply religious person. But when I was ten years old, I didn't really pay attention to the fact that the big lion, Aslan, who was tied to a stone table and slain, and who rose from the dead to defeat the White Witch, had anything to do with Jesus Christ and his own resurrection.

   I was also surprised to find such a huge cult following of Narnia. The step-son of C.S. Lewis has a website devoted to him, and on the FAQ page, there is a recipe for Turkish Delight. Hello? Maybe I'll give it a try.
   

4. How old were you when you first learned to read?
   I know I've said this before somewhere here, but I'll go and say it again. My mother taught me how to read when I was probably three or four. She tells me that I used sit with her while she was taking care of my infant sister and that when I came to a word that I didn't know, she would tell me to sound it out. Good old phonetics long long before Hooked on Phonics. Anyway, sometimes I would read to the other kids in my neighborhood. Their mothers, at one point, asked my mother if it was necessary that their children learn to read before kindergarten. My mother replied that it was just something I did.

   And I have been reading ever since. I sometimes take reading for granted, though, because I've been doing it so long. I simply cannot imagine not knowing how to read.

5. Do you remember the first 'grown-up' book you read? How old were you?
   No. Well, wait. I remember liking Agatha Christie's mysteries at an early age, although I can't recall what age that was. I also read Tales of the City and the subsequent novels when I was in junior high school. Tell me that wasn't grown-up reading. And little did I know when I was fourteen, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, that I would be living and breathing right in the same place as Mona and Mouse. I've never gone on about those books here because I think it's a little cliché, so let me take the time now to say just how much I love those books. In my humble opinion, these novels have some of the wittiest and sharpest and most realistic dialogue around. It's in your face and real. And I love the fact that I can walk through San Francisco today and see the places mentioned in the novels and remember reading about them for the first time when I was a shy, scaredy cat, gay boy in the midwest who never ever wanted to visit California.

Unconscious Mutterings

1. Fashion show :: Manolo Blahnik
2. Boundaries :: We all have them
3. Roadkill :: Raccoons
4. Narcissistic :: This guy I used to know
5. Authority :: Question
6. Martini :: Bombay Sapphire
7. Personality :: Merv Griffin
8. Comfortable :: Sofa
9. Symptom :: Pneumonia
10. Dating :: Sucks

"You can determine a man's sexual orientation after simply listening to him talk for 20 seconds."

Ever since I read this article, I've become a little paranoid when I talk to people I don't know. Is it possible that I have a lisp? Fear of that!

Lazy weekend. Friday night I got one of the best spots to see the fireworks over the bay. We were up above Aquatic Park in the vicinity of Fort Mason, and that's all I'm saying. And they were really cool! I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a fireworks show. I have to remember this next year. Only, it took an hour and a half, by car, to get home from the Marina. Ridiculous.

Saturday was a do-nothing day. Went out for a big, juicy restaurant hamburger that I had been craving for a long time. Then took a walk around a slowly deserting Union Square. Why does this town close so early on a Saturday night?

Sunday was another do-nothing day. I realized that I may not have mentioned that I completely adore the new album by The Bangles. I had to order an import because apparently the United States has forgotten about them. They were probably my favorite band when I was growing up, and it's sad to have only three albums by them. So, when I was listening to the radio at work, and when I heard their new tune several months ago, I jumped out of my seat. I couldn't believe it, it was so exciting. The only way I could get the album was to buy the import. So I did, and I'm so happy. I wish they weren't gone for so long.

I also realized that coffee is one of the biggest timesinks we have around today. We spend so much of our days waiting in line for a cuppa joe or waiting for the pot to brew. Frankly, I can't stand the stuff, and I never imbibe, however, I will be happy to accompany you to have a nice cup of tea or even a hot chocolate.

And have I ever mentioned how much I love to see guys wearing thongs? (I mean flip-flops on his feet. I'm a boxer person.) A pair of flip-flops and shorts, or with cutoffs (and on the right guy, cut off so far that you can see the tip of the front pockets hanging down) or with jeans or khakis or whatever. I think it's quite sexy. Maybe it's bordering on fetish, but men's feet can be extremely alluring. And that's all I'll say about that. Well except that I thank God every day for making me a big fag. I love men.

On a final note, I just started learning to play the guitar. It's a DeArmond electric guitar, for whatever that's worth. And yes, I have an amp. Granted, I only know three strings and three frets, but I know the whole scale of G, with the F# and everything. In a day. I'm mighty impressed with myself, I am. It's easy, and I can't wait to play real songs someday! I only wish I was talented enough to write my own music. I don't know what I would do with myself.

I think that's all for now.

One thing before I go home for the day

This year my birthday falls, unfortunately, one day before the full moon. I'm quite disappointed.

A little something for Tuesday

1. Strawberries or blueberries?
   Both: strawberries taste so good, and blueberries are amazingly good for you.

2. Legally Blonde 2 or Terminator 3?
   Like this is any choice. Come on now! Who doesn't want to see perky Reese Witherspoon? I know I sure do, just as soon as I watch Legally Blonde. Besides, I'm sooo tired of hearing about Arnold and how he could very well be our next governor. Puh. Lease. And don't get me wrong. I like Ms. Witherspoon in everything she does, especially Election.

3. Hamburgers or hot dogs?
   Hamburgers.

4. Boating or hiking?
   Boating.

5. Suntan lotion or sunblock?
   Is there a difference? Or am I inside too much?

6. "Big Brother" or "The Amazing Race"?
   I don't understand the question.

7. Beach Boys or Jimmy Buffett?
   Jimmy Buffett.

8. Grow your own produce or buy from supermarket/greengrocer/farm stand?
   If I had my own backyard, I would have the best vegetable/herb/flower garden around. I love freshly grown food. It's so...fresh!

9. Drive with car windows/top down, or with air-conditioning on?
   At temperatures below 70° F (21° C): sunroof open, windows down. At temperatures above: windows up, cold air pouring from the vents. And to think that I've been contemplating a move to a different part of California, like Palm Springs or something. What the fuck am I thinking?

10. Go away for vacation, or stay at home?
    Get the hell out of Dodge, folks.
    

How Could I Forget?

I saw Finding Nemo last night. What a great movie! I had never seen a Pixar film before, and it was simply amazing. Totally drawn for kids and written for adults. I laughed my ass off.

What if we were all just a little nicer to each other?

1. What if you had to write a magazine column on How To Lose A Guy/Girl In 10 Days—what would you write? Well, first of all, I'd have to ask my editor why on earth I would want to lose a guy after we had met, unless he was a total jerk or something, and then it would only take a two-minute conversation. "Click, dial tone, good-bye." If it doesn't work out between the two of you, make it end quickly. Ten days, yeah right. If you click with someone, and there's a mutual interest to pursue a relationship, you're sick and twisted to try to get rid of them. Again, maybe I'm missing the point.

2. What if you were offered the choice to risk your life by boarding a pirate ship in hopes of finding and obtaining part of the treasure?
   Ahoy, maties!

3. What if you could pass a congressional bill of your choice?
   Oh it would probably have something to do with freedom, liberty, equality, justice for all, and all the other stuff that this country was founded and based on and then was forgotten over the last few generations. You know, the basic stuff.

4. What if you discovered you were really a machine?
   Eh. The sun still rises. The earth turns. Bees be and fish fish. That certainly would not explain the need to watch my weight, though.

5. What if you were bequeathed with all of God's powers?
   Let's see: no disease, no poverty, no famine, no drought, no guns, no pollution, no greed.

   I know greed is a human emotion, but I'm so sick of it. What is it good for? Oh, I see, you don't have enough money to buy your fucking drugs so you go and shoot a man dead, steal his wallet, then shoot his pregnant wife, too? For the hell of it? 'Cause she called the cops on your punk ass? Mother fucker. This shit pisses me off.

   Oh, and no more temperatures over 75° F in the Bay Area. Ever.

That's what.

Foster mother arrested after boys left in hot car die

How do you let this happen? Tell me Leslie Sue Smoot, what the fuck was going through your mind that told you it was OK to leave these kids in the car for any length of time? I don't understand. At least this person doesn't try to cover it up saying, "I forgot." It's just as trite when they admit that "there was some miscommunication." OK, so your husband isn't out taking care of the kids like you thought. Looks like it's time for you to be a responsible adult human being and step up to the plate and assume some of that responsibility for yourself. Miscommunication my big white fucking ass. I'll bet Leslie Sue Smoot was missing Oprah and couldn't be bothered by anything else.

And by the way, I don't understand how you can "forget" a child in your car. You put them there, you're driving around with them, and you're telling me that you park your car somewhere and don't notice the other living being behind you? All you mother fuckers are so goddamn busy with your little lives that you can't take the time, the what, two seconds it takes to turn around to check for your child? There's no excuse. Absolutely none.

And that goes just as strongly for dogs and other pets you may be traveling with. If you can't take your dog with you where you're going, leave the dog at home. They want to go for a ride with you, not bake in a car and die waiting for you outside of Walmart or what-the-fuck. Have some fucking common sense people.

I'm so fed up with people. Can you tell? I used to wonder how I got to be so jaded and cynical at such a young age. Every day I read the news, I have my answer. Oh, and by the way, it's not my fault I'm so angry right now. It's someone else's fault. I can't be bothered with the blame for my own actions.

Mine

I had a dream about someone whose blog I read on a daily basis. Let's just say that I was very nervous meeting this person (in my dream) and I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to control myself, if you know what I mean. Let's just leave it at this. The trouble with writing your thoughts down on the web and broadcasting it to the unsuspecting public is that one day, these things will come back to haunt you. I'm dreading the day that my parents or other family members find this thing. It's only a matter of time. Not like I care, that is (*cover up cover up*). This is my domain, my writing, my (borrowed) silly little buttons. I don't share family secrets here. I don't dish my cousins or whatever. I don't know them well enough to dish them, and who the hell would care anyway?

Anyway, the remainder of this dream involved a car chase between me and a girl I used to know. We were speeding down crowded streets in rusted out Toyota pickup trucks. Uh huh. We ended up at "Blogger's" house where an in-home sales party was being held. I want to say it was a Tupperware-like party, but does anyone remember Tupperware parties? (I do only because I think my mother hosted one once.) Anyway, the lady running the sales party was Allison Janney of "West Wing" fame, though she's accomplished much more than that, including the voice of Peach the Starfish in Finding Nemo, which I just love. Did I tell you how much I love the seagulls, too? Damn grinder birds only ever said, "mine." Over and over again. And you know those clever Pixar people got it right on the money. If you listen closely the next time your at the coast, that's exactly what the birds say. Whatever. Sales Lady was showing us a lamp made of concrete that had a lampshade made of clear blue marble. (Just go with it.) I raised my hand to order one, and she said, "Oh, Michael, this will look great in your place. It's only $43! Oh, but the shipping and handling is over $200. I'm sorry." I replied that I wanted it anyway and insisted on buying it, but she wouldn't sell it to me.

Wow, all of that for a ten-minute dream.

I have a sore throat today. Perhaps too much salt air.

I have a lot of work to do today, but for some reason, I just don't feel like doing it. It's due like on Monday, and it won't take me long to finish it, but damn, it's so boring. You know?

A summer of concerts

Guess who has tickets to Cher's concert at the Concord Pavilion on 5 September 2003 at 7:30 pm in Section 105? Hmmm? Care to guess? Would that be me? Why, yes, it would! An early birthday present for moi-même. Cheeky as hell and everything.

Now, the Bangles are playing at the House of Blues in LA on 8 August, and I'm really debating whether it would be a good thing or not. I would like to go on a road trip again, and that would certainly qualify. Hmmm. I'll let you know.

Happy Birthday to Me

And many more. Thank you.

Thanks

Thank you for this. I just love an authorized, sanctioned place to rant. But I already have that here, don't I?

Unconscious Mutterings

1. Natalie :: Wood
2. Concrete :: Blonde
3. AIDS :: Survival
4. Rubber hose :: Up your nose with a...
5. Paper clip :: Eject a stuck disk/CD in a Mac with a straightened...
6. Route 66 :: Depeche Mode
7. Summer camp :: Never been
8. Coin purse :: A necessity
9. Orion :: The star
10. Instigate :: Trouble-maker

Busy busy busy

I walked into work this morning, a little late myself, to find 50% of our staff gone. Considering we only have ten people, that would make five people out: two sick, one on holiday, and the other two that are on temporary leave. So that meant triple duty for me. I can't say that I minded the work, as I've been pretty bored lately. The phones ringing, faxes coming and going, do this, do that, quick quick. I miss the fast pace of a busy office. I miss manning the front desk and the PBX with a dozen incoming lines.

As a second job, I worked PBX at a hotel for about a year, and it was one of the best jobs I ever had. I worked the night shift, 3–11 pm, and it was fun. Normally I hate talking on the phone, especially for personal calls. I would much rather sit and talk face to face. But for business it's so easy for me, maybe because no one can see my facial expressions or other gesticulations when I'm totally annoyed at the business call that I have to take. I loved being the switchboard to whom everyone went for an outside line or phone messages or dinner reservations or whatever. It was a job that made me feel important and needed. Oh, that says so much about me.

This hotel job was pretty cool. I met lots of famous people (ooh and aah). The front desk staff at night was fun and friendly. One of the guys who worked the front desk was so fucking hot, I would get turned on every time he talked to me. And he had this way of making you know and understand that he was bisexual and always looking for a good time with whomever came along. He had the nicest hands and he played classical guitar. I won't say his name here because that would just be rude, but honey wherever you are, you made my job so much easier. I actually looked forward to working because of him. I didn't mind having to wear a sport coat and tie every night!

I have tried to find a job like that since then, but I've never found one. I know it wouldn't be the same, and it's such a bad idea to try to relive the past through other people anyway. Well, except for the PBX thing. I could do that again. And you know, it's the perfect kind of job for me. The pay is a step above minimum wage, which no one can live on anymore, but I like it. "Thank you for calling Quail Lodge. How may I direct your call?" It still makes me laugh.

Number One

Last night as I was falling asleep trying to ignore the noise coming from Roommate's room, it occurred to me that I am so happy to be a single person. I can't imagine trying to match up my regimen with that of someone else. I can't imagine the sacrifice and concessions that one must make to be married or partnered or whatever you want to call it. It's nice to have a warm body next to you at night, and it's a necessity to have someone to hug every day, but I'm afraid the price you have to pay for that extra body is a little steep for me. I want to sleep with the windows open. I want to leave the radio on at night. I am just being selfish I know, but I don't want to have to make compromises. And I don't want anyone to feel the need compromise themselves for me. Relationships are give and take, and right now I'm not in the relationship-giving kind of state of mind. It's not time for me. I have never felt the need to partner myself with anyone anyway. I've always been a loner, and that suits me just fine. I rarely, in fact I don't think I ever, complain about being alone. It's so perfect for me. You know?

Number Two

And furthermore, if you're not in the military, can you please refrain from saying that things are "a go" in place of saying that events will take place as planned. Especially if you're a gay man. In my book, it's the verbal equivalent of a high-five. Just a no-no.

Number Three

I met this guy a while ago. He's more of a business colleague than anything else. Every time I see him, he's always dishing some other guy he knows or works with. One day I visited him at his office and he went berserk over a new guy with a darling southern drawl. He just "had" to introduce me to him, and I don't know if he was playing matchmaker or what. After the Southern Belle left, my friend said to me, "Isn't he just the most?" I replied that I thought he was cute, and that was all I said. "Yeah, he's cute. Moving right along..." So I see this friend out at one of the bars on the weekend. He comes over to where I'm standing and whispers, " 'Southern Belle' is here tonight. You should go and talk to him." "Oh that's nice," I said. "You don't like him?" asked my friend. "I don't know him," I said casually. "Do you want to know him? You said he was cute. I can set you up with him if you want," offered my friend. And I'm all, what? So I said he was cute. That doesn't mean I want to fuck him. I mean, really. What is that about? This same friend, when introducing me to the Belle said as an aside that "he's family." "Oh? A brother? A cousin? What?" That whole "we are family" stuff is so I don't even know. I just don't use that word to describe someone who's gay or lesbian. They're "gay" or they're "a lesbian." Whatever.

It just occurred to me that this friend might be recently out of the closet although he's a little bit older than I am. I have to remember that not everyone started cruising guys when they were fifteen. It's no surprise that I should turn out to be so jaded. Perhaps he's having fun flaunting his new-found freedom. It gets to be a little tedious after a while, though. And I'll go back to the old gay hat thing. I'm gay, OK? I've been gay for my whole life. I remember knowing who I was when I was 10. I was lucky to have a supportive and loving family. I was lucky to find supportive friends. I was able to express myself at an early age and learn about my sexuality from real gay people rather than bitter, hackneyed stereotypes that some straight guy in Hollywood thought was a real gay character. [That's not bitter, now, is it?] I was able to become comfortable with who I am in my own time in a safe environment. I was never afraid of being gay. I was never ashamed of being gay. In fact, when I'm reincarnated in the future, I only want to be a gay man, maybe next time living in New York or London from the get-go. So with all of that experience under my belt, I would have to admit that being gay is so old hat to me that I hardly ever notice it, not that you can tell by reading some of this stuff here. But really, it's just part of who I am. I don't feel the need to go out and scream from the top of the mountains that I'm here, I'm queer, etc. In fact, if you can't tell that I'm gay upon meeting me, I'm not going to mention it because it just doesn't matter that much, you know? There is so much more to me than being gay, that I don't find it necessary to even make it a topic of discussion. Like I have here.

Number Four

I'm in the middle of a vendor audit, they're auditing us this time, and so I'm trying to look busy. And so I type because I type quickly and that always makes me look busy. It fools the boss, it should fool the auditors.

Number Five

I wish I had Showtime, but only on Friday nights. There's a new series called "Dead Like Me" that I'm missing, and from the clips that I've seen of it, the show looks so fucking hilarious. And Jasmine Guy has not aged well. Sorry, honey, but you haven't. Or maybe it's the fact that you play a dead meter maid and you're supposed to look like that?

Together We'll Go Down to Nude Beach Together We'll Stroll on the Sand

I played hookey yesterday. Well, let me back up a little. On, Wednesday the boss asks me to be available to work that night. He had a very important meeting on Thursday, and he needed help formatting the documents that he was to present at this meeting. OK, fine, part of the job, I understand, I'll take my laptop home. In my haste to go to Costco that afternoon (I get very excited about trips to Costco), I left my laptop at work. Ooops.

I get a call around 9:00 pm asking me if I got the e-mails with the documents I need to format. That's when I realized that I left the laptop at work. Holy shit! What am I gonna do? I know! I'll use my Macintosh to format the documents and everything will be just fine. And that's exactly what I did. I worked on one of the documents at home, and it worked out very well. I just love the inherent flexibility of the Macintosh. It's a godsend for sure. But I neglected to consider one thing: the graphics in some of the documents are linked to the document, not embedded in the document, which means that the picture in the document wouldn't show up in the high quality that was needed for the presentation, which meant that I had to go to work. It also didn't help matters that one of the documents I was to format hadn't even arrived yet. The sales guy who was responsible for the document was at an evening reception and didn't get the file to us until midnight. So my first question (or thereabouts) was: Why do you people insist on waiting until the very last minute to prepare documents for the next day? You knew about this meeting a week ago. I was twiddling my thumbs a week ago. Why do you people work my nerves?

So I went back to the office. At 11:45 pm, I signed in a the front desk and went in to work. And I was there until 6:00 am the following morning. No shit. I did my little format dance, e-mailed the file back to the boss, completed the redlines that he sent back to me, and on it went through the wee hours of the morning, clear 'til sunrise. Our office has a view of the bay from Oakland to the San Mateo Bridge, clear and unobstructed, and the sunrise was beautiful. I haven't seen that many sunrises in my life. Can't say it was worth it on this morning, but it was a nice finishing touch.

Anyway, at 6:00 am, I left work and went home. I was tired and that was that. Around 4:00 am, I was thinking, "yeah, I could stay here until 5:00 pm tonight. I could work a full day today after all of this. Yeah." And by 4:30 am, I was thinking, "fuck that, where's my bed?"

Around noon, Roommate came home early from work and suggested that we take a roadtrip down the coast to Monterey. Did I tell you that I lived there for eight years? That's where we met in fact. I was still a little groggy, but I thought, "that's a nice idea. OK." So we packed up a nice picnic lunch, got in my car and drove down to the Monterey Peninsula. It was about two o'clock when we finally left, and the traffic was smooth.

We made it to Gilroy (a.k.a. The Land of the Stinking Rose, and it stunk beautifully) by about three o'clock where we marveled at the thermometer in my car that read 109° F (42° C). A hundred and nine. Why? Tell me...look me in the eyes and tell me why in god's name you would choose to live in this area? The same for all of you who live in the desert: Palm Springs, Vegas, Phoenix, etc. What is wrong with you people? It was 82° F (27° C) as I drove through San Francisco yesterday and that was too hot. Forget it, I've ranted about this enough in the past. You should know how I feel about the heat.

So by the time we reached Monterey, it was 4:30 pm, and 64° F (17° C) and breezy and nicer than I remembered it being. I spent so much time trying to forget the life I lived down there that I forgot about how pretty it is down there, too. Driving down Del Monte Avenue past the Naval Postgraduate School and the grove of eucalyptus trees, past the wharf, past Del Monte Shopping Center, I didn't have to force myself to acknowledge the natural beauty of the area. And what's more, it became so obvious that some things will never change. The faces will come and go, but the places will always be there.

Except for the Dream Theater which was demolished to make way for a tiny little shopping center, the blasphemous bastards! I remember walking my ass down Prescott Avenue from DLI to watch my favorite movie of all time Dial "M" for Murder in its original 3D presentation at the Dream. It was one of the neatest movie experiences I can remember. And it's just one of the memories that I had blocked out for so long which came barging through my mind. Like the floodwalls had fallen, everywhere I looked I saw my past. Eight years is a long time to live in one place. And being as small as it is, Monterey has memories all over. I mean to be nostalgic, by the way. I didn't fight it yesterday, and I can appreciate it now, understanding where its place is in my life.

We drove down the coast a bit to Garrapata Beach. A long time ago, Garrapata was the nude beach for the Monterey Peninsula. All the gay men in the area knew about it. Well, let me step back a bit. The beach is about a mile long, give or take, and the first half of it was mostly straight. If you ventured past the half-mile mark, you were entering gay naked man territory. And if you made it all the way to the end of the beach, you would be in gay naked man heaven, or at least one of my versions of it. I used to go there every weekend. I would drop my friend Skot off at his salon in Carmel, and drive down to the beach for the day. And I spent the whole day there. High tides, low tides. Winter, spring, summer, fall. Whatever. That was my place to be. As such, I was thin and had a good tan year round. And to clear things up a bit, I was never naked on this beach. I am much too modest for that. I changed my clothes there, and during the brief thirty seconds it took me to take off my pants and put on my swim suit I was naked. And that's all. Oh, and I guess there were the times when I met guys for a little hey hey on the beach, which really is all it's cracked up to be. Can you be in a more beautiful location than in a rocky cove in front of the wide open ocean? I so loved it there. In fact, it's one of those places that I know so well, that when I close my eyes and think of it, I can remember every nook and cranny, every hill in the distance.

Roommate and I met on this beach almost ten years ago. September 12, 1993 we cruised each other on this beach, and the rest is, well, the rest. Yesterday afternoon, we walked down the beach as far as you could go. The tide was in, and the summer tides had taken most of the sand away from the rocky coves, so we couldn't go all the way down. Still, we found a nice spot and sat in the sun for a couple of hours. It was amazing to me to sit there and let all of my memories wash over me like so many tides had done before. I mean that, literally. Before I was wise enough to seek out the free tide tables at Longs drug stores, I took my chances guessing whether that wave was going to hit me this time or not. I lost at least two pairs of Wayfarers and countless cassette tapes on that beach. I can still see myself running down the beach to the water's edge trying to save my towel and backpack. It's not like I was sitting at the water's edge to begin with either. That's how badly I misjudged the tides. Don't let this happen to you! It might be anal to check the tides before going to the beach, but it's worth it! I think that's funny now.

Oh, and the poison oak! That stuff runs rampant all along the cliffs of the beach. I used to wander around up there watching the men below, waiting for the sun to set. It was like I was on the edge of the world on the edge of that cliff looking out at the ocean. But I had no idea what poison oak was or what it could do to you. Not everyone reacts to poison oak, and unfortunately I do. The first time I "caught" it, I had no idea what it was. I saw a red blister start to appear on my lower leg, and it itched like fuck. Over the course of a few days, I watched that blister grow from my ankle almost all the way up to my knee in a big swollen patch of red. After a day or two, the blister started to scab and then ooze. It was the most disgusting thing I ever saw. And it was painful, not just itchy. It was so bad that at times it felt like I had the flu. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't help but scratch the stuff. I had no idea what was happening to me. I thought gangrene would set in and my leg would fall off. Eventually it went away, and my leg healed, but it was a very hard lesson to learn. After that first time, I was affected by it again, but only minorly and maybe twice after that. It was never as bad as the first time, probably because I became so paranoid by the stuff.

These are the memories that I have blocked out. It feels like a whole other life has opened up to me, and again, I'm not trying to sound corny. It's so true. There's so much there that is buried under hatred and anger and bitterness and regret. There's so much there that can be relished and appreciated. I understand people a little better now to put all of this where it belongs, or at least to try to put it where it belongs.

Wow, this is really long. I'll stop here. I'm pretty sure that I'll have more to say on this as I decide to let it back in my life, you know?

Have a really nice weekend.

"The Lord vomited people like [him] out of his mouth to hell."

Why don't we hear stories like this? This is hilarious!

Unconscious Mutterings

1. Wizard of Oz :: Surrender Dorothy and Love those shoes! (It was a tie.)
2. Ford :: Motor Company.
3. Wrinkles :: No, please, no!
4. Extravagant :: My aunt.
5. Conventional :: My mother.
6. Stewart :: Martha (but of course, darling).
7. Offensive :: My boss.
8. Heartbeat :: In a...
9. Chaos :: The human mind.
10. Jiffy :: ...Mix blueberry muffins.

The Bangles It Is

I got a surprise call from my darling Ken who abandoned me in the big city by myself last December. He moved down to La-la-land, and we've been maintaining an unintentional radio silence for this whole time. He broke it and called me, first on Friday but due to the abhorrent lack of cellular coverage in the building I work in, we could not chat, and then on Sunday night where the reception was divine and the conversation inspired. So in order to satisfy two needs at once, I have decided to splurge and visit him in August. I will be attending the Bangles' concert at the House of Blues on 8 August, and then I will spend the rest of the weekend with Ken and Paul. I'm so very excited for this. I have something worthwhile to look forward to, and on top of that, I have a road trip to plan for!! It's a short road trip, but hey, I'll take it! Anything to put me on America's highways with America's truck drivers. Woo the fuck hoo!!!

And then, I open the mailbox at work this morning to find the definition of impulsive shopping. I ordered—and don't call me a geek quite yet...there's more to come—t-shirts from the London Museum of Transport which have the tube signs of some of the tube stops in London. I would venture to say that they are my favorite tube stops, but that would just put the geek in Michael right there, and I'm still not done yet. I think I followed a link from somewhere that ended up at the museum, and when I saw the "make your own," I couldn't resist. I'm more of an anglophile than some Britons I'd offer. Anyway, if you see someone sporting a brilliant white t-shirt from Earls Court, that would be me.

So, the coup de grâce on the geek thing was my impulse this weekend to click the "Buy It Now" button on an eBay auction. Yes, I am a sucker for eBay, and well, it's a long story. I'm pretty sure I've said it all here, too. For some reason, I had it in my head to get a Powerbook. I don't know why. It was just a crazy notion, like destiny wanted me to have it or something. Maybe I'll end up doing good with it, I don't know. I went in search of a few auctions, and I found one that I liked. I put a bid in for the machine, and I was the high bidder for about twenty-four hours. Then I got nervous. No one wanted to challenge me? Maybe it was a bad idea. I started getting second thoughts. And then, I was outbid...and let down. I had gotten used to the idea of toting around my little Apple Powerhouse, and then it went away. Poof.

Not to be beaten, I talked to Roommate to get a second opinion, and he suggested that I go for it. It would be a new step in my development or something. I'm not sure what he meant, but whatever. Saturday morning I went looking for a new auction for the Pismo, and sure enough, I found one for a reasonable price, buy it now and everything and there you go, I'm salivating as I wait for it to make its way up the coast. That's the geek in me. I love computers. I'm not really interested in buying the Titanium Powerbook, or one of the cute 12" iBooks. I love the black case of the Pismo with the Apple logo on the cover that lights up when the machine is on. I love the fact that it's the same one that Carrie Bradshaw uses when she types out her "Sex and the City" column. I love the slim case, the bronze keyboard, the installed Airport card!!!!! Oy vey iz mir. What have I done? Why do I need another computer? "It'll be fun! Think of the places you can go with your portable computer. Think of the things you can do." So, the check's in the mail, and I'm sitting and waiting.

And that's all.

OMFG!!!

I am listening to my favorite online radio station, which is broadcast from London, and I just heard that Bananarama are playing in the Pride in the Park gay pride festival in London this weekend. Mother fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck!!!! I would give, well I won't tell you what I'd give to see them. They're old and their music is so 80s, but it's part of who I am! For fuck's sake. Why did I have to buy a Powerbook? I could have bought a cheep seat in steerage on some ghetto air carrier to take me to London just see that! Dammit all to hell. Mother fuck. Oh well. At least I get to see the Bangles, Olivia Newton-John, and Cher this summer. I guess I can't complain too much. Well, let's explore this for a sec. Hmmm, is it possible? I wonder if my friends in England will let me cop a squat on their sofas...

Nope

I guess some things aren't meant to be. The lowest fare I could find was $2600 on British Airways care of American Airlines. I'm afraid that even the impulsive shopper in me can't do that. Sorry girls, not this year. Oh and I'm sorry for that old comment. You look fabulous!!

Are you fucking kidding me?

Elderly man hits people at farmer's market in Florida

Friday

I've been racking my brain for most of the morning looking for something to say here, but it's just not coming to me. It's a beautiful Friday afternoon where I am. Hope it's beautiful where you are, too.

The big cheese is gone for the weekend again. He's given us permission (of sorts) to cut out early if so desired, but I've got to wait around for FedEx Ground to decide when they'll stop by to deliver my long-awaited package. Don't think I can wait much more, either. I'm more than anxious. Anyway, even though he said we can leave, none of us have. And frankly, that makes me, I don't know. It's like, OK, people, you can go home now. So go! Kinda like at the end of the credits for Ferris Bueller's Day Off where he says exactly that to the audience. "Go home. Sheesh." I mean, it's not like they don't have a right to be here. I just like to be alone, you know?

So that's it. Uneventful. Ho hum. It's quiet here, and I'm not going to be the cliché that says it's deafeningly quiet because, come on now, I'm not that trite, am I? And it's not, really. Then the phone rings. I talk for two minutes and fifteen seconds. And then I hang up. And it's quiet again. I'm not going to do this all afternoon.

So have a nice weekend!

Oh!

I stood up to stretch and happened to look out the window and I saw the FedEx Ground truck drive by! Maybe the wait is over?

Yes

The wait is over. Now all I have to do is figure out a way to configure the Pismo to read our wireless network, and I'll be as happy as a pig in mud. Hello.

This or That

Since I didn't do it last week, and since there's no new one this week, I'll contribute here today.

1. DVD or VHS? DVD of course. I love DVDs with extra features, especially deleted scenes or bloopers. But my question is: If the studio releases a DVD with deleted scenes as an extra feature, why can't they release a version of the movie with the deleted scenes incorporated into the film? I mean, what's the point of showing us a scene that was cut in a different place that's out of context from the rest of the movie?

2. Best Literary/Movie Villain: Voldemort (Harry Potter) or Sauron (LoTR)?
   I don't understand the question.

3. Meat: rare or well-done?
   Medium or medium well. Just a little pink, please.

4. High Speed Internet: Cable or DSL?
   I'd have to say DSL. Cable is way faster, but it's less secure, and you have to share it with your neighbors (if they have cable internet as well).

5. Women: One-piece bathing suit or Bikini?
   One-piece, please. I have witnessed far too many fashion tragedies with girls/women who think they're a size 2 and can wear a bikini but aren't and can't. [shudder] It boils down to common sense and a little bit of decorum, I think. I mean, I've become a hefty guy over the last few years, and I wouldn't be caught dead in a speedo. It's just not in good taste. And a one-piece on women leaves more to the imagination. That's the prude in me talking. And that's all it will say.

6. To be fair—Men: Boxers or briefs?
   Boxers only. No boxer briefs. What's the point?

7. Beer or Liquor/Wine?
   Wine, then beer. Wine before beer makes you feel fine. Beer before wine makes you feel queer. Or so they say.

8. Coke or Mountain Dew?
   Coke. Coca-Cola, that is.

9. In honor of my 10/18/03 nuptials: Morning or Afternoon/Night Wedding?
   N/A. But if I were allowed to get married, and I don't think I would even if I were allowed, I would opt for the night wedding. If I'm stuck in a tux, the rest of y'all should be dressed to the nines with me. K?

10. Carpet or Hardwood Floors
    Hardwood.

11. American cars or foreign?
    Foreign. German or Swedish to be exact. Yes, I'm a snob.

12. Cutest TV Twin: Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen?
    Did you fall on your head?

13. Coffee: Caffeinated or Decaf?
    I never touch the stuff.

14. Thought-Provoking Question of the Week: Computers: Do they make life better or worse? Why?
    Ah. Veddy interestink. Both. I use my computers daily. Non-stop every day. I can't help it. My job relies on it. For that, it's worse because without the computer, I don't have a job. Honestly. But then, when I travel, I can leave my computer home and leave work there with it. That's better. But since laptops are so prevalent nowadays, you can take it with you wherever you go, and that means the potential for taking work on holiday with you. That's worse.

    Then there's the whole Internet thing. I have found so many recipes for cookies on Epicurious that I never would have found before. I have ordered countless objects that one cannot order in the US. And parts for computers which are obsolete, thanks to eBay. That's better, I'd say. Plus in my myriad rants on customer service, I've noted that ordering online is the most efficient method both in terms of payment and delivery as well as customer service. I don't have to speak to a snotty counter person who's bitter because they work there. On the other hand, I do have to wait for delivery.

    On another note, you can find some pretty eye-opening information on the internet, info that makes you glad to have found it or regretful to have even entertained the search for it. It has pushed the limits of my quest for information, that's for sure.

    And then there's the news and entertainment that you can find on the Internet, which allows you to waste precious weekend time watching movie trailers, music videos, home videos, webcams, etc., ad nauseum. As well as the Internet radio stations broadcasting from places on the globe that I've never been to and would love to visit someday. I love the radio: internet, satellite, broadcast, pirate, whatever. I hope it never goes away.

    I'm not even going to touch the whole dating thing on the internet. For the birds.

    And before I list every positive and negative attribute on the Internet, I'll add blogs. How cool is it to read into someone else's life for just a little bit and wonder about what else happens that they don't report? I'm such a voyeur.

Unconscious Mutterings

1. Partner :: in crime
2. Goddess :: Minerva
3. Village :: It takes a... [sorry]
4. Relationships :: are damn hard work!
5. Irrational :: moi, but of course
6. Volcano :: Mt. Etna
7. Fabulous :: Absolutely, darling
8. Unencumbered :: free-flowing
9. Coyotes :: ate my baby...oh, that was dingoes
10. Fulfilled :: Satisfied

Americans less tolerant on gay issues

Link

So. It's OK for us to bring you fashion, entertainment, good food, fine living, etc., but when it comes to our loving each other, it's just wrong? What? Are we supposed to end up celibate and chaste? Oh, right, like the rest of you hypocritical mother fucking straights. And gosh, what great examples you have all set for us, with your lying, cheating affairs, your rape and incest, your murder. What a fucking joke.

And to think that at one time, I was proud to be an American. Fucking assholes. I can't believe how backwards (and backwoods) this country has become, and all you Middle-American mother fuckers are letting this happen. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Where's the bar? I need a drink.

Yesterday, When I Was Mad

I realize that the whole of Middle America is not against gays and lesbians. I am from the Midwest, and I know there are tolerant people that live there. My comments yesterday were clearly out of frustration and anger. What I'm angry about is the fact that people everywhere are getting so lazy in their actions. So many people are satisfied letting others tell them how to think and act and vote, be it the ignorant, racist politicians and their religious ethos or the religious fanatics themselves. Never before have I thought organized religion is such a detriment to our society as much as I do now. It's as if some people can't—or won't—think for themselves anymore. It's too hard, or it's too much trouble, so whatever our representative/minister says is OK with me. Regardless. I was really heated up yesterday, and thankfully the heat has gone, and now I'm just my jaded, cynical old self again, shaking my head in disbelief that some people are really that ignorant.

I have wanted to move out of the Bay Area for a long time, looking for some other place that would be better for me. And now I think that it is the best place for me. Every time I stray too far away from this region of California, whether I'm in the state or not, I am quickly reminded of how lucky we are to live here. There is a great deal of diversity here, and for the most part, it's peaceful. That lends itself to creating tolerance among the citizens. I'm not saying that the Bay Area is perfect, because it's clearly not that at all. I'm saying that there are far fewer hate crimes (reported) in this area based on any difference that we have than in other parts of the country, and I think that's because we all have to live and work together. We have to get along. And having a large gay and lesbian population helps that all the more.

I wonder what it will take to make people realize that we are no threat to society or marriage or their children. I hope it doesn't take too long.