Settled Dust

Now that I'm back at work, I have plenty of time to blog. How ironic.

I was out of work for three days learning Visual Basic in the city. To say that I was in over my head is a little bit of an understatement, but I think I learned enough to help me with what I need to do at work. Enough said. It was a great class.

So, it's been 11 days since I moved myself to a new home. It still feels weird, although I'm calling San Francisco home and referring to Oakland as Roommate's home. It took almost a week to get out of the habit of saying things like, "I left my green fuzzy blanket at home," when referring to having left it behind during the move. I'm still thinking that this is a vacation and that it will come to an end someday, even though I know that that's not true. There are still boxes unpacked and corners allocated to works in progress, but all in all, the move is over. I'm getting mail there, I've got my Tivo all set up, my internet is back to normal—and I'm totally wireless now!!! I installed an Airport base station to the cable internet, and it's just lovely. Yay for me.

And thank my stars for my best friend SP who helped me move and who helped me stay focussed while unpacking and setting everything up and who helped me calm down when I was overwhelmed with the possibilities that flooded my brain when I finally accepted the fact that I was living alone (with a roommate, but for all intents and purposes, alone) and had the city at my disposal. I owe him a world of debt and gratitude for helping me.

Last Friday, I took the day off to accomplish a few household chores. I went early, like 7:30 a.m. early to the DMV to register my car. It's due in June, and I need a new registration to get a residential parking permit for my neighborhood. When I got there, I was screened out of my visit by the lovely young lady working the door. She informed me that the California DMV is no longer taking early registrations in person. I had to either mail my payment or do it all on the internet. And since the DMV doesn't let you change your address on the internet, I have to mail my payment. I was miffed to say the least—that was the main reason for taking Friday off—and it shot down two of my action items at once. Without the new registration, I couldn't go the city's parking department to get a parking sticker. What. Ever. That day was a bust. Nothing I planned to accomplish was accomplished, and I ended up watching DVDs most of the afternoon. Well, DVDs and Oprah. I forgot how nice it is to have a TV.

Saturday and Sunday were spent in Monterey with SP. We got tickets to BFD at Shoreline on 10 June. That should be educational for me.

Monday, SP and I saw Goldfrapp at the Fillmore. Thoroughly exciting and energizing.

Tuesday, SP and I saw Un año sin amor at the Castro Theater. This Friday night they're showing The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (or Les parapluies de Cherbourg) with Catherine Deneuve. That will be lovely.

Wednesday, I attended a reading by Augusten Burroughs at Books, Inc. on Market Street. That was cool. I mean, really cool. I love his books, to say the least.

That brings us back to today. Dinner and drinks and gossip after work.

And before I start an infinite loop of how wonderful it is to be living in the city again, I'll just say good-bye.

Que je vous aime...

L'institut national de l'audiovisuel

Memorial Day 2006

Once again, getting it in before the end of the month. Why do I still have this thing?

So Friday night was spent watching the rest of Transgeneration and silently revering anyone who has gone through gender reassignment. I don't know what it is, but the "T" in GLBT fascinates me completely, and I'm always searching for enlightenment on this subject.

After Disc 2 was over, I stayed up to watch Somewhere in Time, a movie I have wanted to see for a long time—and now I have to wonder why. I can poke, like, seventeen holes in that movie: flaws in logic, stuff that didn't make sense, and dialogue that was just too cheesy for words, no pun intended. I guess it didn't help that I fell asleep through most of it, but the parts I did see were just too much too take. The DVD menu had a selection for the fan club of this movie. I didn't check it out, and I really have nothing else to say. I like Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour, but not in this movie.

Saturday morning, I woke up to the cute workers pounding away at the flat upstairs. It's under renovation, and the guys have been coming at weird times of the day and night. No biggie, though, because I had plans to visit H in Oakland anyway. It's still weird. After a month of living here, I sometimes refer to Oakland as "home." I have to catch myself and call it "H's place" instead. And I do miss him...a lot. I was afraid that moving out would mean walking away from a 12-year friendship without looking back. I mean, I left under some pretty rough circumstances. I was so angry and resentful, and I said some very nasty things, and the day I moved out, I regretted them all. I still do. But you can't undo what's been done, and said, so now I just cringe a little when I remember them and, taking the high road here, imagine what it would feel like on the other end, hearing words like that directed at me. I still love H, and I will always love him. We just can't live together.

Where am I going with this?

I spent four hours over there, and walking back to BART, I was thinking, "I'm going home, to my apartment, in a different city," and I'm not used to it yet. Whatever. I know. Get over it.

So then around nine o'clock, SP and JJWM pulled up outside my window. SP came up to see Elephant at Slim's on Saturday night—kooky band from Europea—while JJWM went to some party at Martuni's. And while SP was getting ready to leave for the concert, he dropped a bomb on me. He pulled out an all-too-familiar bag with two orange-scented candles that I love and a card. I opened the card, and what fell out but a ticket to Madonna's concert in San Jose on Tuesday night. I peed. I mean, I felt it run down my fucking leg. I had given up on seeing her because the tickets were too expensive, and, since I have never seen her live before, I didn't know what I was missing and therefore wouldn't miss it. SP was determined to get me to go, and I remained indifferent. And then JJWM decided he needed the cash, so SP bought JJWM's ticket from him—the two were going together—and now SP and I are going together instead. Isn't that wild? I was absolutely floored, like, not believing it, not knowing what to say, the whole thing. It will be fantastic. I'm sure I'll have something to say about it after the fact. Wow. Quelle surprise!

Sunday, after recovering from a hangover, SP and I went to Squat and Gobble for crepes and then downtown to see a movie. He wanted to see The DaVinci Code to sate his curiosity, and I said "what the hell, I read the book, I might as well." I was going to wait for video, and I was more than disappointed that Tom Hanks was cast as Robert Langdon, but Audrey Tatou and Jean Reno more than made up for it. And I walked away pleasantly surprised. I really liked it.

And then we went to Cha Cha Cha in the Mission for the warm spinach salad and the fried plantanos with black bean sauce. I didn't know about the carnival (or is it "Carnival") in the Mission this weekend, otherwise we would have gone to the Haight, and as a result, we had to wait almost an hour just to get two seats at the bar from which we could drink and eat. It's so worth it, though. The food is delish, and the eye candy is too much.

Blah blah blah and then we watched The Ritz, which I haven't seen in so long it was like the first time. So funny.

I've totally forgotten how to write in this thing.

First, we did this.
Then, we did that.
Next, we'll do this other.

Wake up! It's over!

Holy Jesus, Holy Rock ’n’ Roll

Oh! I got so wrapped up in editing my boatload of templates that I forgot to mention how fabulous the concert was last night. It was fabulous. The seat I had was pretty far up, but I had a bird's eye view of the whole stage and then some. It was simply amazing. I could gush and spew out adjectives and adverbs until my fingers bleed, but unless you're an empath, there's no real way to understand how it made me feel. I can't believe how small she is! She played for about two hours, most of the songs from her Confessions... album and a few older favorites. (Thankfully, nothing from American Life or Bedtime Stories; although I did miss "Holiday" ’cause that's always a fun one.) And then I went home. I have to admit, I was a little nervous, anxious, panicked, whatever until the lights went out and then it was all good.

And if you must know, I wasn't going to mention this because the ticket was a gift, but you know, I'm miffed, so why the fuck not? So, SP gives me the ticket that he bought from JJWM who needed the money. And then JJWM spends twice what he did on one ticket to get one on the floor last night. Go figure. So, SP and I are in the rafters looking down, JJWM gets to his seat, and the people sitting next to JJWM tell him that they have four extra tickets because of something or other I don't know what. So JJWM calls SP and tells him to come down to the floor. Of course, always wanting something better, SP jumps up and runs down à la the Price Is Right. (Ha, that's funny.) I didn't want to leave the seats we had because I was just fine where we were, and I was excited about seeing everything from so high up. Really. So he left. And I watched the show by myself.

OK, so before I feel sorry for myself because I was "abandoned," whatever, I have to remember that I got to see Madonna live in concert last night. And all I did was drive from SF to SJ. I didn't pay a dime. Not even for parking! But, SP made the very special effort of getting me a ticket because "every gay man needs to see Madonna live," and he couldn't bear watching me not watch her. What. Ever. Heather. I'm so over it! As much as I enjoy concerts, I'd rather see a movie. Call me lame if you will, but I was just fine with not seeing her! But he pushed and pushed and then spent the bucks on the ticket, and so OK, fine, I'll go. And then he leaves me for something better? Even though I had the same opportunity and chose not to take it, should I be upset? Does it really fucking matter? No, I guess not. I loved the show, and it was a huge surprise when SP gave me the ticket, and that's all that counts.