Monday, March 08, 2004
Boyfriend material. Chrisafer had a link to the Match.com Physical Attraction test.
According to the test I am:
1). picky, drawn to the most handsome of the handsome
2). older than 30, younger than 50 (makes sense since I am 40)
3). So-called "Ecto-Mesomorphs," with narrow chins and nicely angular faces or So-called "Endomorphs," with full, curved faces
4). Dark brown hair (red is my favorite, but the only redhead in my test was homely)
5). "Bears"- They tend to be bigger guys, with full roundish or oval faces. Most have beards or some kind of facial hair. Typically, you can catch some chest hair peeking from under their shirts.
6). You also picked a number of men that we call "Professors." They're usually clean cut, handsome, and middle-aged.
Best match. The computer told Chrisafer this guy wasn't a hottie for him.
Some others that the computer says I like (and I would agree)
So who is your type?
According to the test I am:
1). picky, drawn to the most handsome of the handsome
2). older than 30, younger than 50 (makes sense since I am 40)
3). So-called "Ecto-Mesomorphs," with narrow chins and nicely angular faces or So-called "Endomorphs," with full, curved faces
4). Dark brown hair (red is my favorite, but the only redhead in my test was homely)
5). "Bears"- They tend to be bigger guys, with full roundish or oval faces. Most have beards or some kind of facial hair. Typically, you can catch some chest hair peeking from under their shirts.
6). You also picked a number of men that we call "Professors." They're usually clean cut, handsome, and middle-aged.
Best match. The computer told Chrisafer this guy wasn't a hottie for him.
Some others that the computer says I like (and I would agree)
So who is your type?
Sunday, March 07, 2004
Take a look see at the movie 9 Dead Gay Guys if you have the chance. Very funny in an awful way. I went last night and Panchesco was sitting behind me. Let me tell you, he has the nicest laugh. We hung out in front of the theater surrounded by Rocky Horror fans and Richard took some pics of one particularly well done-up guy.
Afterwards to the Denture Inn, which was amazingly crowded and I chatted with (and flirted) with the usual crowd. This morning I've been reading the Sunday papers and thinking up ways to avoid yardwork.
Afterwards to the Denture Inn, which was amazingly crowded and I chatted with (and flirted) with the usual crowd. This morning I've been reading the Sunday papers and thinking up ways to avoid yardwork.
Saturday, March 06, 2004
Hanging out with Mike and Ned in the backyard. Mike has moved into the guesthouse and built himself a firepit under the big mesquite tree. He and Ned were out there tonight making arrowheads out of volcanic glass. I had been moving some old railroad ties, in preparation for some yardwork tomorrow, and I sat and drank a beer with them.
Mike.
Ned.
Earlier I had gone to a couple of furniture stores and looked at overstuffed chairs. At Copenhagen there really wasn't anything that I liked. At Alexander's I found one, but then had to look through the fabric samples. The Todd Oldham pattern that I liked was outrageously expensive (about $500 for the fabric alone). I settled on a less expensive floral, although I only took down the information, since I'm not up to buying a major piece of furniture until after the house refinancing is done.
Earlier than that I had given a lecture at the Children's Museum, mostly to a bunch of three and four year olds. That was an interesting experience- the kids had no idea what I was talking about. But the parents liked it, especially the very cute bald daddy. Woof.
Mike.
Ned.
Earlier I had gone to a couple of furniture stores and looked at overstuffed chairs. At Copenhagen there really wasn't anything that I liked. At Alexander's I found one, but then had to look through the fabric samples. The Todd Oldham pattern that I liked was outrageously expensive (about $500 for the fabric alone). I settled on a less expensive floral, although I only took down the information, since I'm not up to buying a major piece of furniture until after the house refinancing is done.
Earlier than that I had given a lecture at the Children's Museum, mostly to a bunch of three and four year olds. That was an interesting experience- the kids had no idea what I was talking about. But the parents liked it, especially the very cute bald daddy. Woof.
Spring fever. Yesterday cold. Today, bright and sunny. The daisies are blooming like crazy in my front yard. I planted some flower seeds and they are all springing up. I have irises and daffodils getting ready to blossom as well. I have always really like spring. Back in Michigan the piles of snow would gradually disappear and suddenly tulips and daffodils would appear. It was my favorite time of the year. The seasons are less intense here in Tucson, but the turn from cold to warm is still exciting. If only it wouldn't switch from warm to hellishly hot!
Daisies in Homer's frontyard.
Daisies in Homer's frontyard.
Friday, March 05, 2004
Did you step in it?. Something stinks. George's new tv ads have arrived in Arizona. Images of the wreckage of the World Trade Center and a flag-draped body. I wonder how it would feel if one of my relatives had died there and a politician was using their dead body as a graphic in a commercial. I wonder whether the person who chose that image also chose the one of Laura sitting next to Georgie. "I'm troubled" by her unhappy appearance. She looks like a bitter old shrew, but then George has been busy fucking over the rest of the nation and probably neglecting his domestic policy, if you know what I mean. Or maybe he accidently poked his nasty old thing somewhere it shouldn't and Laura has a little annoying itch.
I'm troubled about Martha being declared guilty. Her stock value drops by one fourth. Why aren't the prosecutors charged with a corporate crime? Martha may have made a stupid decision. Who wouldn't act on a tip? I wonder if her success as a woman and her donations to the Democratic party had anything to do with it? Meanwhile Kenny Lay, George fuck bud, is lounging about in one of his mega-mansions. I wonder if he ever wakes up at night and thinks, "I wish I hadn't screwed thousands of people out of their retirement money."
So what crap will we step in next?
I'm troubled about Martha being declared guilty. Her stock value drops by one fourth. Why aren't the prosecutors charged with a corporate crime? Martha may have made a stupid decision. Who wouldn't act on a tip? I wonder if her success as a woman and her donations to the Democratic party had anything to do with it? Meanwhile Kenny Lay, George fuck bud, is lounging about in one of his mega-mansions. I wonder if he ever wakes up at night and thinks, "I wish I hadn't screwed thousands of people out of their retirement money."
So what crap will we step in next?
Snow day. From work I can look north to the Santa Catalina mountains and see the snow up on the peaks. It certainly feels cold enough where I'm at, at about 2500 ft elevation. My house is so cold too, poor old Puff just wants to sit on my lap.
The view from work.
My cat problems may be solved in a happy manner. My Ex's mother wants two cats (her dogs died last year) and so I offered her Princess and Bear. Karen loves little miss Princess, who is damn pretty, and I think she'll like Bear as well, who is timid and well-mannered. So perhaps Joey, who hates the younger cats, will quit having her mental problems and stop the awful urination business.
In other news, well- I really don't have anything else to talk about. So dammit, I'm going to go do something about that matter. I'll let you know what trouble I get into.
The view from work.
My cat problems may be solved in a happy manner. My Ex's mother wants two cats (her dogs died last year) and so I offered her Princess and Bear. Karen loves little miss Princess, who is damn pretty, and I think she'll like Bear as well, who is timid and well-mannered. So perhaps Joey, who hates the younger cats, will quit having her mental problems and stop the awful urination business.
In other news, well- I really don't have anything else to talk about. So dammit, I'm going to go do something about that matter. I'll let you know what trouble I get into.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Makeover. I couldn't get the five queer guys to make a housecall so I decided to take the situation into my own hands and exit the beard, at least for a while.
Homer in March.
It is strange how you can look at a picture of yourself and see things. Like the fact that I don't appear to have an upper lip or that one eye is a little bigger than another or that my skin has a slightly yellow cast to it. What's that all about?
Homer in March.
It is strange how you can look at a picture of yourself and see things. Like the fact that I don't appear to have an upper lip or that one eye is a little bigger than another or that my skin has a slightly yellow cast to it. What's that all about?
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Gross, but true. I'd noticed this little black spot at the the top of my right arm. I'd poked at it a couple of times, but this morning I decided to really poke at it. I'd thought it might be an ingrown hair, which I've had a few on my beard. But as I dug at it (it was pretty far below the skin) that didn't seem to be the case. Finally after using a needle and squeezing really hard, I was able to get it out, a small oval hard object. What the fudge was it?
I took it to work and totally grossed out Jenny and Jane when I explained why I needed to use Jenny's high power microscope. I wish I had a picture of Jane's horrified face. Well, Jenny (who knows a lot about rocks) looked at the disgusting anomaly and declared that it was a little pebble (I was fearful that it might be an insect cocoon and I might have something terrible like Guinea worm [note I was going to link to a picture, but after checking Google images I decided NOT to).
How the hell did I get a little pebble inside of me. I mean, it was at least a quarter inch under my skin. Granted, it wasn't very big, but still... Blech, this beats yesterday's entry in terms of yuckiness, I'll probably never get to make out with any of the cute bloggers who read this, they'll all think, "Oh, it's Homer, the pebble man."
I took it to work and totally grossed out Jenny and Jane when I explained why I needed to use Jenny's high power microscope. I wish I had a picture of Jane's horrified face. Well, Jenny (who knows a lot about rocks) looked at the disgusting anomaly and declared that it was a little pebble (I was fearful that it might be an insect cocoon and I might have something terrible like Guinea worm [note I was going to link to a picture, but after checking Google images I decided NOT to).
How the hell did I get a little pebble inside of me. I mean, it was at least a quarter inch under my skin. Granted, it wasn't very big, but still... Blech, this beats yesterday's entry in terms of yuckiness, I'll probably never get to make out with any of the cute bloggers who read this, they'll all think, "Oh, it's Homer, the pebble man."
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Damn, writer's block! I kinda knew that I was going to have it tonight and when I sat down I was so right! So I've decided to pick a totally strange topic. Scars. And make a list.
1). Forehead, center, cousin Katie's croquet mallet.
2). Right hand, between the knuckles, glass bottle fragment in an outhouse.
3). Left hand, palm and along outer side, Mama Cat in December.
4). Left hand, along outer side, unknown.
5). Right shoulder, top of scapula, infected acne spot.
6). Left lower leg, front, glass coffee table at a party.
7). Left thigh, front, infected acne spot.
8). Neck, front above Adam's apple, surgery to remove large benign cyst.
9). Penis, circumcision!
How many scars do you have?
1). Forehead, center, cousin Katie's croquet mallet.
2). Right hand, between the knuckles, glass bottle fragment in an outhouse.
3). Left hand, palm and along outer side, Mama Cat in December.
4). Left hand, along outer side, unknown.
5). Right shoulder, top of scapula, infected acne spot.
6). Left lower leg, front, glass coffee table at a party.
7). Left thigh, front, infected acne spot.
8). Neck, front above Adam's apple, surgery to remove large benign cyst.
9). Penis, circumcision!
How many scars do you have?
Monday, March 01, 2004
Okay, bronchitis officially sucks. If I had a dollar for every time I have coughed over the last five days, why I'd be a lot happier than I am at this very moment, since no one is paying me in my feeble but constant attempt to turn my lungs inside out. At the staff meeting this morning I realized I was just plain miserable, and decided to come home and lie in bed for most of the afternoon. I feel a tiny bit of betterness, so perhaps that was the smart thing to do.
At the Oscar party last night I shocked everybody by announcing I hated Finding Nemo. I was told that it was the favorite movie of one guest. Well, I thought the movie made fun of mentally ill people dressed up as fishes, and I really wanted the evil shark to eat a couple of the main characters. Anyway, I think I made a bad impression, but you know what, I just didn't care. I stayed for a couple of hours but the whole event was so dull, no naughty outfits or outspoken politics and Billy Crystal was just dull as cardboard.
Say hello to Cosmic Noise, he's yet another cute Tucson blogger.
At the Oscar party last night I shocked everybody by announcing I hated Finding Nemo. I was told that it was the favorite movie of one guest. Well, I thought the movie made fun of mentally ill people dressed up as fishes, and I really wanted the evil shark to eat a couple of the main characters. Anyway, I think I made a bad impression, but you know what, I just didn't care. I stayed for a couple of hours but the whole event was so dull, no naughty outfits or outspoken politics and Billy Crystal was just dull as cardboard.
Say hello to Cosmic Noise, he's yet another cute Tucson blogger.
Sunday, February 29, 2004
Leap Year. Doesn't come often (no jokes please), so you should make an effort to do something utterly bizarre or unusual. Really, try it, as Panchesco would urge. So last night I went over to Jamie S.'s and was his photo model. Unfortunately, because many children probably read this blog, I can't post many of the more interesting photos. I did discover that the old saying that the camera adds ten pounds is true, especially if those ten pounds are already padding your mid-section. Nothing like a shocking photo or two to make you think, "Time to get one's behind back to the gym."
And then there is the unexpected photo, what do you say? I guess I can't be handsome or sultry or cute all of the time.
New, bewildered, shirt.
And then there is the unexpected photo, what do you say? I guess I can't be handsome or sultry or cute all of the time.
New, bewildered, shirt.
Saturday, February 28, 2004
An early afternoon self portrait.
Early morning. My quota of sleep used up earlier than normal due to late afternoon napping. At 5 AM I learn that I need to take special vitamins and buy bunches of silver coins, at least that is what basic cable television tells me. I comb Puff and Bear and Princess and the amount of soft hair that comes off of them surprises me, but then springtime is in the air. Princess, the pretty gray sealpoint, purrs loudly and looks at me with her pale blue eyes in a way that says "Adore me, for I am purrrfect." And she really is, the prettiest cat ever. Don't believe me, well you're a dirty trucker-fucker then.
Went clothes shopping because, as I told Eric, I was tired of my duds. On the way to the mall (I know, but that is all there is in Tucson) I see a prostitute dressed like a 1960s go-go dancer, complete with tall white boots and a sorta plastic coat. She looked miserable, no doubt because it was cold and rainy and who wants to hook in the rain?
I end up buying a cool striped shirt with a wide collar- very 70s looking, I guess. At the store a very cute Asian man assisted me, I admired his physique and imagined that he is almost as cute as Patch or Wayne or Maloney or HappySad, but probably not.
At home Les called me and we chatted about gross things (we always do) and about Steve N., someone we knew 18 years ago back in Ann Arbor and who now has a profile on bigmuscle. We hate him for having a hot body (it helps to be an architect and an aerobics instructor), but giggled knowing that he must buy Nair in massive quantities, since his pictures suggest a smoothness that he certainly didn't possess in 1986, when he was the hairiest man I had ever seen.
I thought about watching the telly last night but with basic cable there truly is nothing. As a result of my lack of cable, I totally missed the Sex and the City last episode brouhaha, but can't say that I even cared. I've also never seen Oz or Six Feet Under and, according to Gavin, I'm missing the new season of AbFab, which upsets me to no end.
Okay, nothing else to recount so I think I'm going to go make some French toast for breakfast. Later.
Went clothes shopping because, as I told Eric, I was tired of my duds. On the way to the mall (I know, but that is all there is in Tucson) I see a prostitute dressed like a 1960s go-go dancer, complete with tall white boots and a sorta plastic coat. She looked miserable, no doubt because it was cold and rainy and who wants to hook in the rain?
I end up buying a cool striped shirt with a wide collar- very 70s looking, I guess. At the store a very cute Asian man assisted me, I admired his physique and imagined that he is almost as cute as Patch or Wayne or Maloney or HappySad, but probably not.
At home Les called me and we chatted about gross things (we always do) and about Steve N., someone we knew 18 years ago back in Ann Arbor and who now has a profile on bigmuscle. We hate him for having a hot body (it helps to be an architect and an aerobics instructor), but giggled knowing that he must buy Nair in massive quantities, since his pictures suggest a smoothness that he certainly didn't possess in 1986, when he was the hairiest man I had ever seen.
I thought about watching the telly last night but with basic cable there truly is nothing. As a result of my lack of cable, I totally missed the Sex and the City last episode brouhaha, but can't say that I even cared. I've also never seen Oz or Six Feet Under and, according to Gavin, I'm missing the new season of AbFab, which upsets me to no end.
Okay, nothing else to recount so I think I'm going to go make some French toast for breakfast. Later.
Friday, February 27, 2004
A letter to the FCC. Jockohomo suggested that everyone send letters to Michael Powell, head of the FCC. Poor Mike (son of sellout Colin Powell) got to see him some tit at the Super Bowel. And got himself all worked up about it. So this is my letter to Mr. Powell, who wants to censor the already-censored garbage we see/hear in the media:
Dear Mr. Powell,
A quick note to say I don't care about the Janet Jackson breast APOCALYPSE. Can the government spent my tax dollars on something more important?
I find it much more OBSCENE to watch our president announce his plan to make gays and lesbians second class citizens. That is a profoundly more disgusting, immoral incident than Janet's wardrobe malfunction.
When I listened to you blather on about how awful the boob event was for you and your family, all I could think is "What the $#@&^!" Please note that in accordance with FCC rules I made my own swear word to express my dismay over the bull^%#$ that is coming out of the FCC.
I had to come home from work cause I feel like %$@#, coughing up big chunks of *($&^. The cats are delighted because that human is available for extra cuddle time. Geez, almost forgot, I need to call Santorum's office today and harass him.
Dear Mr. Powell,
A quick note to say I don't care about the Janet Jackson breast APOCALYPSE. Can the government spent my tax dollars on something more important?
I find it much more OBSCENE to watch our president announce his plan to make gays and lesbians second class citizens. That is a profoundly more disgusting, immoral incident than Janet's wardrobe malfunction.
When I listened to you blather on about how awful the boob event was for you and your family, all I could think is "What the $#@&^!" Please note that in accordance with FCC rules I made my own swear word to express my dismay over the bull^%#$ that is coming out of the FCC.
I had to come home from work cause I feel like %$@#, coughing up big chunks of *($&^. The cats are delighted because that human is available for extra cuddle time. Geez, almost forgot, I need to call Santorum's office today and harass him.
My future ex-husband. William Hung (what an amazing last name) is going to be a mega-super star. Well, maybe not, but he's the sweetest guy to come out of the whole reality television craze. It is a shame that those American Idol judges just didn't get it. Their loss. I hope William enjoys his fifteen minutes. Maybe if he had a wardrobe malfunction he could get a little more time in the limelight?
Thursday, February 26, 2004
Jamey called and asked how my day was going. Well, I said. This morning I woke up and decided to stay home from work. I'm finishing up having a cold and I'm coughing up unpleasantness. So I slept in, watched some silly daytime television, had a veggie corn dog and fries for lunch. I then went and saw Master and Commander. Am I imagining the homo-ness of the relationship between the captain and the surgeon. The surgeon was my type, which really doesn't mean much because at this precise moment my type is basically a non-Republican male aged 18 to 50 who has most of his teeth. The movie was alright and made me glad I wasn't a sailor at that time period.
Afterwards to Bookman's where I somehow won the three books I was buying. Very strange as I never win anything. Then home to read the alternative Tucson Weekly, which had a stupid article on gay marriage written by a straight woman "I also don't understand why gay couples want to waste their time and energy getting a state-sanctioned OK on their unions" she wrote. I sent her a polite letter explaining a few reasons why, and the paper's publisher called me a few minutes later asking if he could publish it. Sure I said. I was watering the flowers in my front yard when Jamey called. He is a photographer and I have a photo shoot with him this Saturday.
In conclusion, I had a great day. Almost forgot, I saw two (count 'em two) cute redheads today at the bookstore.
Afterwards to Bookman's where I somehow won the three books I was buying. Very strange as I never win anything. Then home to read the alternative Tucson Weekly, which had a stupid article on gay marriage written by a straight woman "I also don't understand why gay couples want to waste their time and energy getting a state-sanctioned OK on their unions" she wrote. I sent her a polite letter explaining a few reasons why, and the paper's publisher called me a few minutes later asking if he could publish it. Sure I said. I was watering the flowers in my front yard when Jamey called. He is a photographer and I have a photo shoot with him this Saturday.
In conclusion, I had a great day. Almost forgot, I saw two (count 'em two) cute redheads today at the bookstore.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
What to say? I was naughty and called the Republican party here in Pima and chatted with some old geezer who got so worked up he told me that gays would get married "when hell freezes over." As I did this Patti and Sarah giggled. My office-mates enjoy listening in as I vex politicians and their staffmembers.
I enjoyed listening to John Waters chat with Terry Gross on NPR. I went to see Mr. Waters speak in April at the Hotel Congress. The event was marred by the two super drunk chain smokers sitting right in front of me. I had taken the claustrophobic ex along and I think he had a worse time. Oh well.
I taught an archaeology class at the local community college. I ate a sandwich from Beyond Bread and suffered from acid reflux. I had to reschedule my colonoscopy consultation until next week because the doctor was going to go play golf or something. I was excited to see the car odometer at 62222. I can't tell if I am catching another cold, something that happened last year when I had two in a row. I argued with Mike C. about politics. I am so right and he is, naturally, utterly wrong. Now it is time to go to bed and I have nothing else to write about. How was your day?
I enjoyed listening to John Waters chat with Terry Gross on NPR. I went to see Mr. Waters speak in April at the Hotel Congress. The event was marred by the two super drunk chain smokers sitting right in front of me. I had taken the claustrophobic ex along and I think he had a worse time. Oh well.
I taught an archaeology class at the local community college. I ate a sandwich from Beyond Bread and suffered from acid reflux. I had to reschedule my colonoscopy consultation until next week because the doctor was going to go play golf or something. I was excited to see the car odometer at 62222. I can't tell if I am catching another cold, something that happened last year when I had two in a row. I argued with Mike C. about politics. I am so right and he is, naturally, utterly wrong. Now it is time to go to bed and I have nothing else to write about. How was your day?
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Oh crap. So George W. Bush has decided that a constitutional amendment is needed to save heteros from the lousy fucking homos. I called the D.C. offices of my US Senators- McCain and Kyl- and chatted with staff members. I asked Kyl's office when were they planning on opening concentration camps to put the gays and lesbians in. They assured me that wasn't going to happen. Yeah, right.
I also called the office of Marilyn Musgrave, the Colorado representative who sponsored the amendment. I talked with her staff person and told him that I hoped she got what she deserves. What that is, I'm not sure. Maybe her queer hairdresser will fuck her 'do up royally. Although, after checking out the pictures on her website it would be hard to make her look more asinine. Maybe she'll get her a lesbian grandbaby. Wouldn't that be ironic if one of her spawn turned fag? It is almost laughworthy. Or maybe a couple of queers will kiss in front of her, totally ruining her sunny disposition and making her extra flatulent.
Maybe I'll have to move my lousy fucking homo butt up to Canada. Mighty Maloney- can I come and sleep on your couch?
An afterthought. I called my mother this morning and she said, "I don't see any reason why gays and lesbians shouldn't be allowed to marry." How did my Republican mother become so cool?
I also called the office of Marilyn Musgrave, the Colorado representative who sponsored the amendment. I talked with her staff person and told him that I hoped she got what she deserves. What that is, I'm not sure. Maybe her queer hairdresser will fuck her 'do up royally. Although, after checking out the pictures on her website it would be hard to make her look more asinine. Maybe she'll get her a lesbian grandbaby. Wouldn't that be ironic if one of her spawn turned fag? It is almost laughworthy. Or maybe a couple of queers will kiss in front of her, totally ruining her sunny disposition and making her extra flatulent.
Maybe I'll have to move my lousy fucking homo butt up to Canada. Mighty Maloney- can I come and sleep on your couch?
An afterthought. I called my mother this morning and she said, "I don't see any reason why gays and lesbians shouldn't be allowed to marry." How did my Republican mother become so cool?
Monday, February 23, 2004
Did he know I was stalking him? On the way home from work I stopped at a supermarket. Now in Tucson, every supermarket has a distinct personality. The Fry's chain is known for the preponderance of mouth-breathers, shoppers who don't have the sense to close up while walking about. Albertson's is more expensive and I don't like the floorplan. The Safeway near work is crammed full of elderly people and embarrassed men buying Maxi-pads. The Safeway near home is heavily Hispanic and the candy section has strange confections with odd textures and unusual flavors. The Safeway I went to today is near the University and is typically filled with cute college stud-ents.
I wandered in to buy some diet pop and those expensive pretty pills. He was standing at the end of an aisle looking at cans of dog food. I see him whenever I do research at a Pima County office. Tall, thick brown wavy hair, nice goatee, brown eyes, great body. I've admired him for years. I know he smokes, perhaps a flaw, but the rest of the package...fine. I doubled back to look again. Nice butt. And as I was looking at bread he came over to inspect as well. His Pima County ID badge hangs partly from under his coat. First name starts with an S, but I can't make out the rest. Probably a Steve, maybe a Scott. Last name is decidly English. His forearms are really furry. No wedding ring.
I decide that I've done enough gazing and go look for those pills but end up in line behind him- he chose a long loaf of cheap white sandwich bread. He smiles at me and I wonder, "What if he's gay?" But I have no working gaydar here in Arizona. So I watch as he walks away and admire his butt and have a little domestic fantasy before the cashier asks me to enter my club card number.
I wandered in to buy some diet pop and those expensive pretty pills. He was standing at the end of an aisle looking at cans of dog food. I see him whenever I do research at a Pima County office. Tall, thick brown wavy hair, nice goatee, brown eyes, great body. I've admired him for years. I know he smokes, perhaps a flaw, but the rest of the package...fine. I doubled back to look again. Nice butt. And as I was looking at bread he came over to inspect as well. His Pima County ID badge hangs partly from under his coat. First name starts with an S, but I can't make out the rest. Probably a Steve, maybe a Scott. Last name is decidly English. His forearms are really furry. No wedding ring.
I decide that I've done enough gazing and go look for those pills but end up in line behind him- he chose a long loaf of cheap white sandwich bread. He smiles at me and I wonder, "What if he's gay?" But I have no working gaydar here in Arizona. So I watch as he walks away and admire his butt and have a little domestic fantasy before the cashier asks me to enter my club card number.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Is it wrong to flirt with another Blogger? I'm awful guilty, but feel no guilt about it. In fact, it is one of the nice things about becoming buddies with fellow bloggers, getting to know them much better than some guy at the bar or that blonde stud who works at the supermarket. The guy I've flirted with is someone I'd like to meet in person. Who knows what we will talk about, once the talking starts.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
A Grande time. Jeffrey S. and I walked up to the Grande Avenue Festival. Stopping to admire the house for sale on the corner. At night the Virgin of Guadalupe is lit up by neon. Out in front tiny daffodils are blooming.
Virgin of Guadalupe. There are lots of shrines in my neighborhood.
Miniature daffodils- the former owner also grew fantastic irises.
The festival is in its second year- it began last year to celebrate the re-opening of the area after a horrible sewer pipe leak that undermined the road and stunk up the neighborhood pretty bad. I was out of town last year, so missed it. I was amazed at how many people were strolling up and down the street. Food booths, crafts, carnival rides, a band on stage, and lots of neighbors. The crowd was mainly Mexican-American, with the occasional Anglo (mostly hippies) mixed in. It is strange how cultural events in this community are so segregated.
Jeffrey S. admired the vintage cars. Sometimes I think he is secretly straight because he can rattle off the make and model on sight, and is knowledgeable about whether the interior is original or not.
Jeffrey S. and the 1965 convertible.
We ran into Kent, and the three of us hung out. Jeffrey and Kent hadn't met, and I mentioned to Kent that Jeffrey had been a Peace Corp volunteer in Africa. Kent, when he was younger and more impressionable, had been a Mormon missionary in Peru. They spent the rest of the time chatting. I am playing matchmaker. Wonder what will happen?
Kent
Virgin of Guadalupe. There are lots of shrines in my neighborhood.
Miniature daffodils- the former owner also grew fantastic irises.
The festival is in its second year- it began last year to celebrate the re-opening of the area after a horrible sewer pipe leak that undermined the road and stunk up the neighborhood pretty bad. I was out of town last year, so missed it. I was amazed at how many people were strolling up and down the street. Food booths, crafts, carnival rides, a band on stage, and lots of neighbors. The crowd was mainly Mexican-American, with the occasional Anglo (mostly hippies) mixed in. It is strange how cultural events in this community are so segregated.
Jeffrey S. admired the vintage cars. Sometimes I think he is secretly straight because he can rattle off the make and model on sight, and is knowledgeable about whether the interior is original or not.
Jeffrey S. and the 1965 convertible.
We ran into Kent, and the three of us hung out. Jeffrey and Kent hadn't met, and I mentioned to Kent that Jeffrey had been a Peace Corp volunteer in Africa. Kent, when he was younger and more impressionable, had been a Mormon missionary in Peru. They spent the rest of the time chatting. I am playing matchmaker. Wonder what will happen?
Kent
Friday, February 20, 2004
Playing doctor. Yesterday was my annual physical. I wanted to find out about the acid reflux and a large spot on my hand. Turns out the pretty purple pill should work on the stomach and the hand thing is just an "age spot." And because I have aged and I'm now 40, drastic measures are needed. First an EKG test, which was totally uninteresting. And then the cough-cough test. And then the bend over test. That's not a big deal (although I know of a couple of straight men who are FREAKED by getting that test), but the doctor then tells me that I need to get a colonoscopy. Jesus fuck. He wants baseline data on my guts. Which means I have to take super-laxatives for a day, poop out everything in my system, go to the hospital, get sedated, have a tube stuck up my bum and a video made. I hope they give me a copy so at my next craft party I can pop it in the VCR and amaze my friends with "A Tour of Homer's Rectum." I just canned the crass joke I thought up.
In other news, I sent a company-wide email this morning about my "flippant" comment at the benefits meeting and received a number of responses. One other woman said she had had similar feelings (she has a boyfriend) but was too chicken to speak up. All nine responses were supportive. I feel much better now, and I guess I'll put the baseball bat away. A chocolate eclair helped too.
In other news, I sent a company-wide email this morning about my "flippant" comment at the benefits meeting and received a number of responses. One other woman said she had had similar feelings (she has a boyfriend) but was too chicken to speak up. All nine responses were supportive. I feel much better now, and I guess I'll put the baseball bat away. A chocolate eclair helped too.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
After the Day of Discrimination I came home and was very upset, as previously stated. Luckily, I realized that I was having dinner with Bob and Steve so I drove over to their 1880s adobe, locking my keys in my car. Nobody was home but I was a little early. I thought perhaps I had messed up (and I had, we were supposed to eat Friday instead) but it all worked out in the end and the combination of talking, Dragon View takeout, and pretty Miss Peaches sitting on my lap were mostly healing. But when I came home I wrote a little letter that I may or may not give my boss. When I climbed in bed an unexpected windstorm hit and the electricity started to go off and on, leaving me with an annoying flashing alarm clock. I haven't confessed this but if I have to get up early I watch the clock all night, a very bad habit, I wouldn't recommend starting. Plus, I ground my teeth so hard the whole left side of my face feels like someone punched me. Again, not recommended, because it makes the day start out kinda crummy. Plus I'm going to the doctor to find out about acid reflux and get poked, and that accurate to an ounce scale that I dislike almost as much as...., well I'm just not going to bother thinking up negatives. Instead I call for Princess to come sit on my lap and pat her pretty little head and think about the donut I will be eating after the doctors office.
Basket and candelabras at Steve and Bob's house.
Homer and Peaches, the miraculous calming Pomeranian.
Basket and candelabras at Steve and Bob's house.
Homer and Peaches, the miraculous calming Pomeranian.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Insurance discrimination. At today's workplace presentation on our new "beneflex" plan the company owner from California glibly noted that domestic partners and significant others would not be covered as per IRS regulations. The second time he brought this up I interrupted him and asked what was going to happen with the marriages in San Francisco and Massachusetts. He didn't want to talk about this and repeated the domestic partner/significant other rule. I told him, in front of my co-workers that I thought he was being flippant and asked him what his company would be doing to change this. He said "Nothing" and then refused to discuss it further.
My co-workers failed to understand my point. "Oh, he wasn't being flippant" they say, "and why should his company do anything to change IRS rules." I respond by noting that he had already noted the numerous changes in IRS rules that have taken place in the last 18 years this particular plan has been in effect. Obviously, the industry hires lobbyists to push for these changes. My company has a queer, two dykes, and a woman with a domestic partner. The overhead money we generate are helping to pay his company for his services. Ten percent of the employees are not getting the same benefits as the "traditional married/persons with kids" because of IRS rules. The benefits company should be interested in changing those rules for both financial reasons (they would make more profit with more individuals covered) and to better represent the workers of the people paying into the plan.
I'm really pissed off and the reaction of my co-workers (Homer is getting over-excited and there's nothing that can be done about it) makes me even angrier. Where's my baseball bat?
Later: At home, I'm still pissed off. The reactions of my co-workers were amazing- "You were making a big deal out of nothing" and "I don't think you should have told him he was flippant."
Let's see, why shouldn't I be pissed off. Straight people can go get married and within a few minutes receive a whole set of rights that are routinely denied gays and lesbians. Of the 40 or so people I work with there are four or five who are married and have no intention/ability to have kids, but still have access to lots of rights that I don't have. And then there are the ones with kids who benefit from my paying taxes for schools. So you would think the co-workers would spend a few minutes and think about the issue. But since they have theres, they aren't particularly interested in the topic.
Meanwhile, insurance and benefit companies are willing to take gay/lesbian money but are not interested in going to Congress and telling them to change the laws. It makes me livid. Where the fuck is that bat?
My co-workers failed to understand my point. "Oh, he wasn't being flippant" they say, "and why should his company do anything to change IRS rules." I respond by noting that he had already noted the numerous changes in IRS rules that have taken place in the last 18 years this particular plan has been in effect. Obviously, the industry hires lobbyists to push for these changes. My company has a queer, two dykes, and a woman with a domestic partner. The overhead money we generate are helping to pay his company for his services. Ten percent of the employees are not getting the same benefits as the "traditional married/persons with kids" because of IRS rules. The benefits company should be interested in changing those rules for both financial reasons (they would make more profit with more individuals covered) and to better represent the workers of the people paying into the plan.
I'm really pissed off and the reaction of my co-workers (Homer is getting over-excited and there's nothing that can be done about it) makes me even angrier. Where's my baseball bat?
Later: At home, I'm still pissed off. The reactions of my co-workers were amazing- "You were making a big deal out of nothing" and "I don't think you should have told him he was flippant."
Let's see, why shouldn't I be pissed off. Straight people can go get married and within a few minutes receive a whole set of rights that are routinely denied gays and lesbians. Of the 40 or so people I work with there are four or five who are married and have no intention/ability to have kids, but still have access to lots of rights that I don't have. And then there are the ones with kids who benefit from my paying taxes for schools. So you would think the co-workers would spend a few minutes and think about the issue. But since they have theres, they aren't particularly interested in the topic.
Meanwhile, insurance and benefit companies are willing to take gay/lesbian money but are not interested in going to Congress and telling them to change the laws. It makes me livid. Where the fuck is that bat?
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Feels like Spring. Suddenly it's Spring time. The wildflowers in my front yard are pushing upward and a few have suffered from premature blossoming:
Blurry yellow.
Which reminds me of the last time I was in Nogales, Sonora with my mother. We walked across the border and wandered through the tourist portion of town. Shops crammed with ticky-tacky stuff, a tired old burro to pose pictures with, and the street hawkers trying to sell you stuff.
"Hey man," says el hombre, a little older than me, "You need some Viagara?" Christ, couldn't he see that was I with my mother?
"No thanks," I said, my face turning red with embarrassment.
"Okay, then you want to go see the donkey fuck a girl?" Jesus H. Christ, we must have been walking down the wrong street. I steered my mother back into a shop to admire little knobs with bluebirds painted on them.
"Oh, I wish they had had that stuff back when your father was alive?" she said.
"What stuff?" I asked.
"That Viagara. After he got diabetes he could never have an erection and that was very upsetting for him. Not that I cared one way or another."
Oh. My. Frigging. God. That was a billion times more information than I ever needed to know. "Mother!" I said, "I don't want to know about that."
"Well, I was just saying...." It was almost as bad as the time I asked her why she had these purple plastic high heeled shoes. "Well, when your father gets depressed because of the stroke I take my clothes off and walk around naked in front of him wearing them. It cheers him up."
This was over 10 years ago, and I'm pretty sure I suffered internal sunburn from the degree of embarrassed redness.
Blurry yellow.
Which reminds me of the last time I was in Nogales, Sonora with my mother. We walked across the border and wandered through the tourist portion of town. Shops crammed with ticky-tacky stuff, a tired old burro to pose pictures with, and the street hawkers trying to sell you stuff.
"Hey man," says el hombre, a little older than me, "You need some Viagara?" Christ, couldn't he see that was I with my mother?
"No thanks," I said, my face turning red with embarrassment.
"Okay, then you want to go see the donkey fuck a girl?" Jesus H. Christ, we must have been walking down the wrong street. I steered my mother back into a shop to admire little knobs with bluebirds painted on them.
"Oh, I wish they had had that stuff back when your father was alive?" she said.
"What stuff?" I asked.
"That Viagara. After he got diabetes he could never have an erection and that was very upsetting for him. Not that I cared one way or another."
Oh. My. Frigging. God. That was a billion times more information than I ever needed to know. "Mother!" I said, "I don't want to know about that."
"Well, I was just saying...." It was almost as bad as the time I asked her why she had these purple plastic high heeled shoes. "Well, when your father gets depressed because of the stroke I take my clothes off and walk around naked in front of him wearing them. It cheers him up."
This was over 10 years ago, and I'm pretty sure I suffered internal sunburn from the degree of embarrassed redness.
Monday, February 16, 2004
Is it wrong to lust for your plumber? The guesthouse bathroom clogged up again and a call to a different plumber brought John G. over, exactly on time. Handsome, salt and pepper hair, a nice smile, pretty eyes, and a great ass. Now, I wouldn't have minded if he had plumber's butt.
John climbed up on the guest house roof and thrust his long, snake-like appendage into the appropriate hole. A few minutes of intense probing action, and that darn blockage was gone.
The downside- $165 down the drain, but I cheerfully wrote the check as a figured out ways to take pictures of the lustworthy plumber without being too obvious.
I think this is the naughtiest entry ever on this blog. Sigh.
John climbed up on the guest house roof and thrust his long, snake-like appendage into the appropriate hole. A few minutes of intense probing action, and that darn blockage was gone.
The downside- $165 down the drain, but I cheerfully wrote the check as a figured out ways to take pictures of the lustworthy plumber without being too obvious.
I think this is the naughtiest entry ever on this blog. Sigh.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
The Gay Guys Valentine's Day Party was a success. Fifteen single men, you'd think there would be total debauchery. Instead the boys snacked and made plastic bead mosaics.
Jeffrey S. and his creation.
Reuben is all smiles.
Things got really wild when I pulled the Twister game out.
Panchesco plots his next move.
Richard and I had a camera duel, I think he probably won, since I'm still learning what all of the buttons mean on my new Nikon.
Richard at the craft table.
The only downside was having to ask the Magic 8 Ball the same question (Will I get a boyfriend this year?) three times before I got a satisfactory answer.
Jeffrey S. and his creation.
Reuben is all smiles.
Things got really wild when I pulled the Twister game out.
Panchesco plots his next move.
Richard and I had a camera duel, I think he probably won, since I'm still learning what all of the buttons mean on my new Nikon.
Richard at the craft table.
The only downside was having to ask the Magic 8 Ball the same question (Will I get a boyfriend this year?) three times before I got a satisfactory answer.
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Happy Valentine's Day. It is really exciting to see all of those gay and lesbian couples getting married in San Francisco. The two guys in the picture below appeared in today's Arizona Daily Star, almost as cute as their babies. I'm very happy for all of the newlyweds.
I hope you have a nice Valentine's Day too.
I hope you have a nice Valentine's Day too.
Things I hated about Michelle's going away party. Michelle is leaving for Israel Sunday and at her party in my guesthouse there were a lot of hippies and otherwise interesting people. But there were a lot of godawful things going on including:
- a guy singing the "Fuck" song at the top of his lungs outside my bedroom window. Not endearing.
- blondes with dreadlocks. Nasty, matted, dirty. Ruins perfectly nice bone structure.
- being told by your friend that his very hot boyfriend, standing next to you, is limber and well hung enough to give himself head. And the boyfriend confirming this is in fact true.
- tribal drumming until 2:00 AM is so 1968.
- seeing 20-somethings so stoned that they couldn't speak clearly- yuck.
- the cutest guy at the party, the one who kept checking me out, turns out to be straight.
On the other hand, Michelle was having a lovely time and I will really miss her as she goes on this adventure. I hope she is safe in Israel, I wish that country would sort out its problems with the Palestinians, but then I wish I lot of things. Like maybe getting me a limber boyfriend...
- a guy singing the "Fuck" song at the top of his lungs outside my bedroom window. Not endearing.
- blondes with dreadlocks. Nasty, matted, dirty. Ruins perfectly nice bone structure.
- being told by your friend that his very hot boyfriend, standing next to you, is limber and well hung enough to give himself head. And the boyfriend confirming this is in fact true.
- tribal drumming until 2:00 AM is so 1968.
- seeing 20-somethings so stoned that they couldn't speak clearly- yuck.
- the cutest guy at the party, the one who kept checking me out, turns out to be straight.
On the other hand, Michelle was having a lovely time and I will really miss her as she goes on this adventure. I hope she is safe in Israel, I wish that country would sort out its problems with the Palestinians, but then I wish I lot of things. Like maybe getting me a limber boyfriend...
Friday, February 13, 2004
Runaway Nose. Cue dramatic music. Lights, action, kleenex. In this episode of Homer'sWorld our protagonist is suffering from what is believed to be a fatal case of runny nose. As concerned cast members and extras arrive at the hospital, the camera presents a close up of Homer's bright red nostrils. Someone asks, "Is it alive?" As a stream of mucous jets out during a particularly violent eruption, a long lost friend appears, trapped in an alternative dimension, loosened by the magical combination of anti-hista-whatever-it-is-that-I-can't-spell, paper towel, and Joey Cat. Someone else comments on the weird scent in the air, to which smell-challenged Homer cries out, "There's got to be a morning after!" Panchesco arrives on Magda, and waves his fiery wand. Is it too late for our hero? Will the Single Gay Guys Valentine's Day Party be a gigantic blowout, or will it just plainly blow? What sort of pizza goes best with Sudafed? Stay tuned for the answers to these and other exciting questions....
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Thanks San Francisco. Tomorrow the sun will rise, commuters will drive to work, I'll drink a diet Coke, President Bush will say something really stupid, etc., etc. The world will not have ended because two elderly lesbians got hitched in San Fran. Many religious conservatives will get their panties in a bunch. Who gives a flaming fuck what they think? I mean, the same crowd has been wrong-wrong-wrong on all of the other "issues" they have played cry baby about. Inter-racial marriage, the end of slavery, relaxed divorce laws, the end of prohibition- none of these brought about the end of the United States. Each of these actions actually strengthened our country.
If by some off chance you are one of the idiots who oppose gay marriage, and you found your way to this website, go fuck yourself, I'm certain nobody else will do it.
In other news, I'm recovering from my sniffles, have been productive at work, flirted shamelessly on the phone, as well as paid my bills (and actually have some money leftover!). I really like my new camera and need to find some interesting things to take pictures of. And last night's Angel episode was really good. As a friend of mine would say, Good Times.
If by some off chance you are one of the idiots who oppose gay marriage, and you found your way to this website, go fuck yourself, I'm certain nobody else will do it.
In other news, I'm recovering from my sniffles, have been productive at work, flirted shamelessly on the phone, as well as paid my bills (and actually have some money leftover!). I really like my new camera and need to find some interesting things to take pictures of. And last night's Angel episode was really good. As a friend of mine would say, Good Times.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Breaking news: Drive By Shooting! Occasionally I hear gunshots. A few minutes ago I HEARD gunshots. Like, right next to my house. So close, I was truly alarmed as my cats ran about frightened. I ended up lying flat on the floor as more gunshots rang out. Bang-Bang-Bangedy-Bang!
And then I remembered that there was supposed to be a fireworks show on the mountain next to my house because it is the 50th anniversary of the Gem Show. So I went outside and watched for a while, coming back inside because it is kinda cold.
Drive by fireworks.
And then I remembered that there was supposed to be a fireworks show on the mountain next to my house because it is the 50th anniversary of the Gem Show. So I went outside and watched for a while, coming back inside because it is kinda cold.
Drive by fireworks.
As the Stomach Turns. I haven't whined about it, but I have been suffering from acid reflux for the last 35 days or so. Almost every time I eat I develop a burning sensation in my chest. Sometimes I can even taste the acid if I burp. Next week I go to the doctor to find out what can be done. In the meantime I am taking one of those well-advertised brightly colored pills. So far it hasn't helped.
Compounding this is a little cold that I picked up from a co-worker. God-fucking-dammit. He had it much worse than I do, and I know it was him because I had to listen to his cough-cough-coughing. I'm feeling mighty stuffed up myself, I guess a result of the drive to Sierra Vista today, which is at a slightly higher elevation than Tucson (3,800 ft versus 2,500). So I'm going to huddle at home in front of the little electric heater. Play with the cats (Puff and Mama are waiting to be petted). And have a nice someone-sticking-a-knife-in-my-guts kinda evening. End of whine. Was it good for you?
Compounding this is a little cold that I picked up from a co-worker. God-fucking-dammit. He had it much worse than I do, and I know it was him because I had to listen to his cough-cough-coughing. I'm feeling mighty stuffed up myself, I guess a result of the drive to Sierra Vista today, which is at a slightly higher elevation than Tucson (3,800 ft versus 2,500). So I'm going to huddle at home in front of the little electric heater. Play with the cats (Puff and Mama are waiting to be petted). And have a nice someone-sticking-a-knife-in-my-guts kinda evening. End of whine. Was it good for you?
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
And a little later. So cheap, generic wireless keyboards are actually cheap, worthless keyboards. That don't work. And will have to be dragged back to Circuit City for a refund. Although the packaging is totally ripped to shreds. And I'm having to type this using the vomit-keyboard. Blech.
And don't go to Circuit City the day your tax refund comes and you end up buying a Nikon Coolpix 4300. Which I did. Which takes much better pictures than the old camera. The very first photo is presented below. Please note that Bear is not the puking cat, he just looks like Puff.
First photo, Bear.
And don't go to Circuit City the day your tax refund comes and you end up buying a Nikon Coolpix 4300. Which I did. Which takes much better pictures than the old camera. The very first photo is presented below. Please note that Bear is not the puking cat, he just looks like Puff.
First photo, Bear.
Disgusting Puff. Likes to sit on the top of my monitor. Well, when I came home tonight I discovered he had been sitting up there when the urge to puke happened. So gobs of puss vomit were running down the screen and covered much of the ketboard. Attempts to remove it from in between the keys have proven impossible. I'm heading off to buy a new keyboard now, since as I type this the puke is squishing up between the w and e keys. Fuck...
Monday, February 09, 2004
Almost famous. Jim mentioned that the only celebrity he has seen in person was Tiny Tim. So on the way to work I started thinking of famous people I have bumped into, Here's my list:
Charlie Sheen- at the gym, he was filming a movie in Tucson
Stephen Baldwin- at the gym, he lived in Tucson
Ted Danson- at the airport in LA
Keanu Reeves- at a restaurant in LA, he was attending a birthday party
Ricky Lee Jones- at the same restaurant, at the bar
John Stossel- walking down the street in NYC
And that is it for the accidental list. I guess I'm not a magnet for the rich and famous. The on-purpose list includes: Gerald and Betty Ford, George and Barbara Bush, Dan Quayle, Walter Mondale, Howard Dean, Jesse Jackson, Robert Ballard, and Maya Angelou. And perhaps the most bizarre- Colonel Sanders.
So who have you seen in person?
Charlie Sheen- at the gym, he was filming a movie in Tucson
Stephen Baldwin- at the gym, he lived in Tucson
Ted Danson- at the airport in LA
Keanu Reeves- at a restaurant in LA, he was attending a birthday party
Ricky Lee Jones- at the same restaurant, at the bar
John Stossel- walking down the street in NYC
And that is it for the accidental list. I guess I'm not a magnet for the rich and famous. The on-purpose list includes: Gerald and Betty Ford, George and Barbara Bush, Dan Quayle, Walter Mondale, Howard Dean, Jesse Jackson, Robert Ballard, and Maya Angelou. And perhaps the most bizarre- Colonel Sanders.
So who have you seen in person?
Sunday, February 08, 2004
At the Gay Man's Sex Expo, I decided to get vaccinated for Hepatitis A and B, which are apparently becoming more prevalent here in Tucson. The 20 minute HIV test results were ready by the time I had been poked by three needles- negative. I did not attend the spanking workshop, although Jeffrey T. and Jeffrey S. said it was "interesting."
Afterwards, Mark Q. and I went out to Gates Pass and walked out onto the nearby mountain. I met Mark back in September, another cute redhead, and he called me out of the blue last week. Kevin had mentioned my name. His sense of humor is as goofy as mine (he'll protest, saying mine is goofier, when it is actually just more juvenile).
Mark Q., half in shadow.
As usual I focused on details, the lichen covering rocks, the water-fattened saguarro.
Lichen.
Saguaro.
We scrambled off the rocks as the sun went down, our conversation rambling from one topic to another.
Sunset.
Afterwards we had middle eastern food at Ali Babas and came back to my place, where he was impressed by the linoleum art. It ended up being a really nice time and I'm sitting here wishing, in a pleasant way, that more Saturdays were like that.
Afterwards, Mark Q. and I went out to Gates Pass and walked out onto the nearby mountain. I met Mark back in September, another cute redhead, and he called me out of the blue last week. Kevin had mentioned my name. His sense of humor is as goofy as mine (he'll protest, saying mine is goofier, when it is actually just more juvenile).
Mark Q., half in shadow.
As usual I focused on details, the lichen covering rocks, the water-fattened saguarro.
Lichen.
Saguaro.
We scrambled off the rocks as the sun went down, our conversation rambling from one topic to another.
Sunset.
Afterwards we had middle eastern food at Ali Babas and came back to my place, where he was impressed by the linoleum art. It ended up being a really nice time and I'm sitting here wishing, in a pleasant way, that more Saturdays were like that.
Friday, February 06, 2004
Letter to editor. The letter I wrote last week showed up in the Tucson Citizen, our conservative newspaper today. I'll be getting some hate mail soon- religious tracts, or maybe a letter from a fake address telling me I'm a pathetic shithead. It is so easy to rile up conservatives.
I've been thinking about the woman who told me she was voting for Bush again. The backstory is that this woman is white and and is married to a black guy. Until 1959 this sort of marriage was illegal in Arizona. According to Arizona law, a "white" person (of European or Mexican background) could not marry a black, Asian, or Native American. The ACLU finally filed suit and when it was apparent the law would be thrown out the state legislature caved in and sacked the miscegenation laws.
The gay marriage issue is on the same track, but this time around the Republicans are pushing for a constitutional amendment and George W. Bush is backing them. Anyone who supports him is supporting his policies. If the woman wants to vote for Bush, go ahead. But she shouldn't expect me to be her friend anymore. I'm not looking forward to being a second class citizen.
I've been thinking about the woman who told me she was voting for Bush again. The backstory is that this woman is white and and is married to a black guy. Until 1959 this sort of marriage was illegal in Arizona. According to Arizona law, a "white" person (of European or Mexican background) could not marry a black, Asian, or Native American. The ACLU finally filed suit and when it was apparent the law would be thrown out the state legislature caved in and sacked the miscegenation laws.
The gay marriage issue is on the same track, but this time around the Republicans are pushing for a constitutional amendment and George W. Bush is backing them. Anyone who supports him is supporting his policies. If the woman wants to vote for Bush, go ahead. But she shouldn't expect me to be her friend anymore. I'm not looking forward to being a second class citizen.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Newcomers. I added a few new blogs that I've been reading. Cosmic Goober is a guy living in Denmark- look at his branding pics in the November archives. Ouch! Not something I would do- although cat-induced scars almost count. Looking for Sam is another Tucson blogger with a mystery he is trying to solve. Homo-lame-o relates stories of life in southern California. Lastly, I like Mr. Happy Sad's use of images.
I shouldn't climb back in bed in the morning after I have had insomnia. I typically have bizarre, scary dreams. This morning I dreamt of nice Grandma. I was at her house playing cards with a bunch of relatives and there she was, putting her coat on and heading outdoors. I asked her where she was going and she hurried out. I realized that she was running away, but my mother caught her and she came back inside.
Grandma died six years ago and I sometimes really miss her. She was a hard person to understand, kept her emotions well hidden. But every time I went back to Michigan I would stop and spend a few days with her. We would do the things she liked to do- go to Salvation Army to look for bargains, have lunch at the FlapJackShack, watch Wheel of Fortune. We didn't agree politically- she was an ardent Republican. But I blame that on the horrid newspaper and television stations she had access too. Grandma helped me out financially three times when I really needed help, and for that I guess I can excuse her politics. [Side note- it was shocking to see how many awful Republican fund raising letters she would get every day- from scum like Oliver North. One time I returned out to Jessie Helms suggesting in quite colorful terms where the envelope belonged].
It was nice to see Grandma in my dream. I wouldn't mind if she showed up there more often.
Grandma died six years ago and I sometimes really miss her. She was a hard person to understand, kept her emotions well hidden. But every time I went back to Michigan I would stop and spend a few days with her. We would do the things she liked to do- go to Salvation Army to look for bargains, have lunch at the FlapJackShack, watch Wheel of Fortune. We didn't agree politically- she was an ardent Republican. But I blame that on the horrid newspaper and television stations she had access too. Grandma helped me out financially three times when I really needed help, and for that I guess I can excuse her politics. [Side note- it was shocking to see how many awful Republican fund raising letters she would get every day- from scum like Oliver North. One time I returned out to Jessie Helms suggesting in quite colorful terms where the envelope belonged].
It was nice to see Grandma in my dream. I wouldn't mind if she showed up there more often.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Driving north on Mission you can see that the Catalina Mountains are covered in snow, with fat clouds clutching at the highest peaks. I wish I had my camera because the shadows and the purple hue is amazing. I'm guessing though that the camera wouldn't catch that very well, so I am content to memorize the scene instead. On my left, to the west, is a forest of saguaros, a few tick-tacky houses interspersed. On the right is the hell of mobile homes and palm trees, plunked down on the floodplain of the now-dry Santa Cruz River. I wonder what will happen when the next 500 year flood comes. Will the mobile homes wash away, taking with them the collections of plates and crystal figurines elaborately described in the Parade magazine each Sunday?
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
And I'm voting for him again. She said. What do you say when a friend tells you she voted for George Bush? It makes me feel very strange. Bush's buddies would look at me and view me as a perverted queer (only if you ask nicely) and someone doomed to burn in hell (yeah, whatever). And because of Bush's tax cutting mania, the particular place this woman works has lost one third of its staff positions in the last two years. She is moving on to a new job soon and it is unlikely that her position will be filled. So I don't get it. It is right up there with the whole idea of infinity and what was there before the Big Bang.
My friend Mike came over to look at the guest house and will probably move in. He's a super guy and it would be nice to have him in there.
What else? Rupaul sent me an email recently, thanking me for a note I wrote him. I think he is the coolest.
I think the Janet Tit incident is pretty stupid. Hmm, Janet's WMD (Woman's Mammary Displayed) needs to be instantly investigated, according to the head of the FCC, whose children had to sit through Hard-On adds only to see a BOOB. Yes, this investigation will get to the bottom of that horrifying terrorist incident! Meanwhile, Georgie, after months of controversy, has decided that maybe we should stop stalling and find someone to blame for his missing WMDs. Stupid fuck.
My friend Mike came over to look at the guest house and will probably move in. He's a super guy and it would be nice to have him in there.
What else? Rupaul sent me an email recently, thanking me for a note I wrote him. I think he is the coolest.
I think the Janet Tit incident is pretty stupid. Hmm, Janet's WMD (Woman's Mammary Displayed) needs to be instantly investigated, according to the head of the FCC, whose children had to sit through Hard-On adds only to see a BOOB. Yes, this investigation will get to the bottom of that horrifying terrorist incident! Meanwhile, Georgie, after months of controversy, has decided that maybe we should stop stalling and find someone to blame for his missing WMDs. Stupid fuck.
Monday, February 02, 2004
Taxes and election and Janet. Theresa, my cute Korean H & R. Block tax person, finished my tax returns and I promptly signed them. All of the money will go to pay off my credit cards. Tomorrow is primary day and I'm voting for Dean. I just plain like him and the fact that he was courageous to sign the civil union legislation in Vermont makes him pretty heroic in my eyes.
I didn't watch the Stupor Bowl so I missed seeing Janet's teat. Yawn. Who fucking cares. I wished I was interested in keeping abreast of this issue, but I'm not interested in hyped controversies on the boob tube. I watched parts of two Queer Eye shows, and really wished those five guys would come help me out. I mean, I really need advice on exfoliation. And my wardrobe is pretty lame- in case you didn't know, people in Tucson, Arizona are not particularly interested in fashion. So I buy clothes at Old Navy that are comfortable. And I don't have many dress up duds. Help, Fab Five!
I didn't watch the Stupor Bowl so I missed seeing Janet's teat. Yawn. Who fucking cares. I wished I was interested in keeping abreast of this issue, but I'm not interested in hyped controversies on the boob tube. I watched parts of two Queer Eye shows, and really wished those five guys would come help me out. I mean, I really need advice on exfoliation. And my wardrobe is pretty lame- in case you didn't know, people in Tucson, Arizona are not particularly interested in fashion. So I buy clothes at Old Navy that are comfortable. And I don't have many dress up duds. Help, Fab Five!
Sunday, February 01, 2004
24 Hours. I worked on my book, finding the Kingdon family in Illinois and Kansas. I stopped at the health food supermarket and sampled a disgusting healthy snack chip. At running charades my list- e-mail, spam, Viagra, Nigerian dictator, lower mortgage rates, teenage sluts, penis enlargement, enough- was decidedly difficult and no one caught on to the theme. Doug the tympanist was very cute and had a sexy demeanor. I invited him to my upcoming party. I developed a stomach ache, unfortunately.
This morning I read the New York Times and the Arizona Daily Star. I clipped a coupon that saved me three dollars. The neighbor kids asked if I would pay them to rake my yard. I agreed, and I'm guessing the $10 went to candy and popcorn at the movies. At Ace Hardware I bought flower seeds. At Queen Donut I treated myself to a lemon -filled and a huge Diet Pepsi. Then at the pet store I ooed and ahhed at the cute cats and puppies. I switched lines so that I was waited on by Ryan, the incredibly good looking clerk. I had a moment of lust. On the way back home, while driving down Oracle, I saw a prostitute sauntering up the street, looking for some business. I bet her last 24 hours was a lot different, and perhaps more interesting, than mine.
This morning I read the New York Times and the Arizona Daily Star. I clipped a coupon that saved me three dollars. The neighbor kids asked if I would pay them to rake my yard. I agreed, and I'm guessing the $10 went to candy and popcorn at the movies. At Ace Hardware I bought flower seeds. At Queen Donut I treated myself to a lemon -filled and a huge Diet Pepsi. Then at the pet store I ooed and ahhed at the cute cats and puppies. I switched lines so that I was waited on by Ryan, the incredibly good looking clerk. I had a moment of lust. On the way back home, while driving down Oracle, I saw a prostitute sauntering up the street, looking for some business. I bet her last 24 hours was a lot different, and perhaps more interesting, than mine.
Friday, January 30, 2004
Out on the town. So I made an honest mistake and went out to two of Tucson's fine gay bars. Walking into the Venture Inn you are immediately assaulted by cigarette smoke. It clogs every pore, you feel like an ashtray. I run into Peter and later Rick. It is pretty awful, no, depressing. So I end up over at IBTs and hang out with Gavin and Kevin and see a cute redhead that I am too shy to say hello to. Again, the cigarette smoke. I don't get it. It's not sexy. It stinks. Who wants to kiss a guy with ashes in their mouth. Not that there is anybody at IBTs to kiss. At home Mama Cat is all over me. I almost make a coarse joke, but refrain because I am a gentleman or something similar. How are the gay bars in your neighborhood?
Dog days. Seems like dogs are everywhere. Yesterday I went with Patti to the Humane Society where she was picking out a cat. While she cooed over a rather ugly long-haired tabby, I inspected the dogs. There were three in particular that caught my attention. A scruffy long-haired terrier mutt and a pair of older mutant dogs, probably let go when their elderly owner could no longer care for them. The dogs get so excited by attention.
On the way home I saw the old lady who wheels about town in her giant tricycle, with her big fluffy dog riding happily in its basket. The woman smiles as broadly as her dog. I'm glad that have each other.
And then a few minutes ago I called Animal Control on my neighbors. They live two houses down and raise pitbulls. The fucking assholes take little care of the dogs and this afternoon the two adult dogs got in a fight and ripped into each other. I peered out my window to see the couple trying to pry the dogs apart, as blood covered the beasts heads. The man was calling to someone inside the house to come help, that person didn't seem to be in any hurry. I hunted down the number and called and I guess being a dispatcher for animal control isn't a job for a polite person. She was very abrupt and really didn't want to send somebody. You have to give your name, which I did. I'm just sick of listening to the dogs howl, the male always wanting to get at the female and her puppies. We'll see if the neighbors come knocking.
On the way home I saw the old lady who wheels about town in her giant tricycle, with her big fluffy dog riding happily in its basket. The woman smiles as broadly as her dog. I'm glad that have each other.
And then a few minutes ago I called Animal Control on my neighbors. They live two houses down and raise pitbulls. The fucking assholes take little care of the dogs and this afternoon the two adult dogs got in a fight and ripped into each other. I peered out my window to see the couple trying to pry the dogs apart, as blood covered the beasts heads. The man was calling to someone inside the house to come help, that person didn't seem to be in any hurry. I hunted down the number and called and I guess being a dispatcher for animal control isn't a job for a polite person. She was very abrupt and really didn't want to send somebody. You have to give your name, which I did. I'm just sick of listening to the dogs howl, the male always wanting to get at the female and her puppies. We'll see if the neighbors come knocking.
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Letter to the Editor. Driving across town and listening to NPR sometimes results in my sending letters to the two local newspapers. I have had over a dozen published in the last year. I composed this letter tonight as I drove, the words spilling forth as I raged about the US Appeals Court deciding that gays couldn't adopt children in Florida. We live in a time when Sauron or Voldemort has raised his ugly head:
What does the future hold for the United States? A look at our neighbor to the south is helpful. In Mexico, a relatively small percentage of the population controls the vast majority of wealth, valuable real estate, industry, and the media. For years the PRI party maintained control through coercion and corrupt relationships with business. The majority of the population is trapped in poverty, with no safety net, earning wages that do not adequately cover the basics of housing, food, and medical care. Is it any wonder that millions seek better opportunities elsewhere?
The current United States government is leading us toward this reality. The Republican
tax cuts have provided much money to the rich, who have shown no inclination to revive the
economy. The consolidation of wealth has accelerated while more and more Americans struggle to make end meets while working for mega-corporations, such as WalMart, that do not pay a living wage. The Republicans have consolidated their power by gerrymandering congressional districts in places like Texas and Pennsylvania, preventing competitive political races. The Bush administration seems more concerned with rewarding corrupt businesses, such as Enron and Halliburton, than in insuring that Social Security and Medicare are adequately funded. As the deficits grow ever larger, Bush asks for new tax cuts and proclaims that “temporary” cuts be made permanent. For the first time, the company running my 401K has sent out a newsletter telling its investors that Social Security will not be there for the baby boomers. The dream of many Republican theorists is to end all social programs, and bankrupting Social Security and Medicare through deficit spending appears to be the chosen path.
If we continue down this path, how long before Americans will be heading to Canada or
Europe to look for healthcare or employment? It is important for voters to look past the social
issues that the Republicans will use to cloud the election. What difference will gay marriage or school prayer make in the larger scheme of things when you can’t afford health insurance, college tuition, or even food to feed your children?
What does the future hold for the United States? A look at our neighbor to the south is helpful. In Mexico, a relatively small percentage of the population controls the vast majority of wealth, valuable real estate, industry, and the media. For years the PRI party maintained control through coercion and corrupt relationships with business. The majority of the population is trapped in poverty, with no safety net, earning wages that do not adequately cover the basics of housing, food, and medical care. Is it any wonder that millions seek better opportunities elsewhere?
The current United States government is leading us toward this reality. The Republican
tax cuts have provided much money to the rich, who have shown no inclination to revive the
economy. The consolidation of wealth has accelerated while more and more Americans struggle to make end meets while working for mega-corporations, such as WalMart, that do not pay a living wage. The Republicans have consolidated their power by gerrymandering congressional districts in places like Texas and Pennsylvania, preventing competitive political races. The Bush administration seems more concerned with rewarding corrupt businesses, such as Enron and Halliburton, than in insuring that Social Security and Medicare are adequately funded. As the deficits grow ever larger, Bush asks for new tax cuts and proclaims that “temporary” cuts be made permanent. For the first time, the company running my 401K has sent out a newsletter telling its investors that Social Security will not be there for the baby boomers. The dream of many Republican theorists is to end all social programs, and bankrupting Social Security and Medicare through deficit spending appears to be the chosen path.
If we continue down this path, how long before Americans will be heading to Canada or
Europe to look for healthcare or employment? It is important for voters to look past the social
issues that the Republicans will use to cloud the election. What difference will gay marriage or school prayer make in the larger scheme of things when you can’t afford health insurance, college tuition, or even food to feed your children?
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
I'm waiting for Reggie to call so we can go have dinner. I am hungry and that means I have to think about food. I like to eat, really ought to be fat, but then I can never sit still so I burn up a lot of energy. More specifically, I have a terrible sweet tooth. Yum- donuts, chocolate, those honey-waffle things you can get in Amsterdam (something like stroopwaffles), pastries, pies. I'm not a big cake fan though. I also like cheese, except for those vile moldy ones, I mean that stuff should just be tossed into the garbage. And fresh bread-right out of the oven. And mashed potatoes. And onions. Christ, I'm starving. Reggie, please call NOW...
In other news, the Democratic primary in AZ. Dean has been to Tucson twice- he's impressive in person and comes across as a very straight forward, truthful man. Leiberman was here once, but got little coverage. The rest- not a glimpse. I find Kerry to be rather wooden, but his military career is certainly better than GW Dipshit's AWOL military "career." I dunno, I just want that piece of crap to be thrown out of office.
In other news, the Democratic primary in AZ. Dean has been to Tucson twice- he's impressive in person and comes across as a very straight forward, truthful man. Leiberman was here once, but got little coverage. The rest- not a glimpse. I find Kerry to be rather wooden, but his military career is certainly better than GW Dipshit's AWOL military "career." I dunno, I just want that piece of crap to be thrown out of office.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Oh my gosh. I'm trying to think of something interesting to write about and suddenly have realized that at this exact moment I am probably the most boring, dull, uninteresting person in the world. That is not an exageration. It surprises me, because this is exactly opposite of what I would like. So now I am puzzling over how to solve this situation.
Should I become a serial killer and stalk hapless victims? No, too messy and way too much work. Become a porno star? While some people I know could handle that, I'm afraid I am a terrible actor. Vote for Al Sharpton in next week's primary? Oh my, now that would be interesting, but rather stupid. I think I will have to settle for doing the rest of my laundry in my fabulous new washing machine.
Speaking of stupid, I called Senator McCain's office here in Tucson yesterday and asked his staff person why he was campaigning in New Hampshire for that idiot George Bush. The guy that answered the phone could hardly keep from laughing. From what I can tell, none of his staff members hold the miserable failure in much regard.
Should I become a serial killer and stalk hapless victims? No, too messy and way too much work. Become a porno star? While some people I know could handle that, I'm afraid I am a terrible actor. Vote for Al Sharpton in next week's primary? Oh my, now that would be interesting, but rather stupid. I think I will have to settle for doing the rest of my laundry in my fabulous new washing machine.
Speaking of stupid, I called Senator McCain's office here in Tucson yesterday and asked his staff person why he was campaigning in New Hampshire for that idiot George Bush. The guy that answered the phone could hardly keep from laughing. From what I can tell, none of his staff members hold the miserable failure in much regard.
Monday, January 26, 2004
With Sympathy. I'm so sorry that my friends out on the East Coast and Midwest are freezing their cojones. In response I went to the tree in my front yard and
picked this orange, along with about 20 others. I took them inside, washed them off, and
sliced them in half. I then placed the juicer attachment on my 1950s Sun Beam mixer and
made a big glass of orange juice. Yummy, nice and fresh.
So I hope this brought a little cheer and joy. It made me goddam happy and the vitamin C is sure to ward off lots of potential illnesses.
picked this orange, along with about 20 others. I took them inside, washed them off, and
sliced them in half. I then placed the juicer attachment on my 1950s Sun Beam mixer and
made a big glass of orange juice. Yummy, nice and fresh.
So I hope this brought a little cheer and joy. It made me goddam happy and the vitamin C is sure to ward off lots of potential illnesses.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Washing away the blues. I've been a little down this morning, a post-Ex situation that lingers on and on. It is why I have avoided seeing him, because there are a few emotions that hang on including loneliness.
Up early this morning awaiting the appliance delivery persons. They arrive exactly on time. Justin, who was the young man in charge, had his name tattooed across the back of his neck amid a bunch of scrolly lines. Sexy now, but one wonders what it will look like in 20 years. I should invest in tattoo removal laser stock now. He was a whiz at hooking the washer up, and it works so quietly. The old washer thump-thump-thumped loud enough that I always knew when the load was finished. Now I have to open the back door and listen carefully.
Michelle is moving out and it looks like Chrissy is moving in. She's coming over to chat with me about it, apparently worried that her March 1 move-in date will be a concern. Instead it will give me time to do some work on the place.
A vegetarian shepherd's pie is just finishing in my oven. A Homer original, it sure smells good. I've been doing a lot of cooking, something that tapers off dramatically in the summer. If only these annoying, wasted feelings would taper away as well.
Up early this morning awaiting the appliance delivery persons. They arrive exactly on time. Justin, who was the young man in charge, had his name tattooed across the back of his neck amid a bunch of scrolly lines. Sexy now, but one wonders what it will look like in 20 years. I should invest in tattoo removal laser stock now. He was a whiz at hooking the washer up, and it works so quietly. The old washer thump-thump-thumped loud enough that I always knew when the load was finished. Now I have to open the back door and listen carefully.
Michelle is moving out and it looks like Chrissy is moving in. She's coming over to chat with me about it, apparently worried that her March 1 move-in date will be a concern. Instead it will give me time to do some work on the place.
A vegetarian shepherd's pie is just finishing in my oven. A Homer original, it sure smells good. I've been doing a lot of cooking, something that tapers off dramatically in the summer. If only these annoying, wasted feelings would taper away as well.
At the Venture Inn I saw a lot of people. Jeffrey T. was there, looking fine in his cowboy hat and his tight jeans. Panchesco and I are growing our hair out. Niles and I have similar glasses. Chris and Douglas and Patrick out on the patio, the rain has stopped for awhile. Patrick has the best moustache in town. The Ex was there, and it still bothers me to talk with him because I miss the old times, miss having him as a best friend. He, perhaps, doesn't understand this. David A. was there, smiling as usual. And Miguel or Mike, I can never remember what he goes by but you cannot forget his pretty smile. And Derek and Reuben, who I had dinner with last night and who is shy out at the bar. And there were lots of people I didn't know and a sexy leather guy who told me I was handsome. And a lot of cigarette smoke and the bar closing at 1 AM because in Arizona nobody is 'sposed to have fun after 1 AM. And now at home the cats sit close to me, but not so close because the cigarette smokiness of my clothes stinks.
Saturday, January 24, 2004
I revived the economy today! I purchased a new washing machine, two pairs of pants, and three pairs of socks. As a result, I completely erased our country's annoying $500 billion dollar deficit! While at Sears, I discovered the missing Iraqi weapons of mass destruction hidden in a Kenmore refridgerator! Amazingly, I also caught Osama bin Laden in the dressing room at Old Navy. He was trying on the last large light blue oxford shirt. A bunch of half naked FBI agents burst out from the dressing rooms where they were being fitted for boxer shorts. They hauled Osama away, although the agents really wanted to stop at Abercrombie & Fitch and ogle the larger-than-life sized wall porn.
I went to the White House to collect my bounty money and walked in on George and Dick as they were making toys for Laura and Lynne. George was mad because Dick's "toy" was bigger. I told him, "George, you'll always be the biggest dick I know." The two dudes had decided to go fight "enema" terrorists. I had to explain that they should be looking for enemy terrorists instead.
Afterwards I went to Coldstone Creamery and had cookie dough ice cream with Mark, and Corky, and Wayne. We ran into Adam and Panchesco, who were putting a few too many toppings on their dessert. It was the best day ever!!!
I went to the White House to collect my bounty money and walked in on George and Dick as they were making toys for Laura and Lynne. George was mad because Dick's "toy" was bigger. I told him, "George, you'll always be the biggest dick I know." The two dudes had decided to go fight "enema" terrorists. I had to explain that they should be looking for enemy terrorists instead.
Afterwards I went to Coldstone Creamery and had cookie dough ice cream with Mark, and Corky, and Wayne. We ran into Adam and Panchesco, who were putting a few too many toppings on their dessert. It was the best day ever!!!
Friday, January 23, 2004
When I was five. I watched Captain Kangeroo. Learning that the actor, Bob Keeshan, had died today made me think about the show. I was always a fan of Bunny Rabbit and Mister Moose. I don't why I found that them amusing. It certainly was a lot different than the shows kids watch today, which seem to be focused on selling toys, junk food, and soda pop.
The year I was five was the year when I should have gone to kindergarten but didn't. My mother decided to keep me at home because I was too small (I was undersized until I was in college- soooo skinny!). And I watched Captain Kangeroo in the morning, played cards with my mother, went to the supermarket (which was a tiny store at the time) where the cashier always patted my head. I would get up every morning and go have a raspberry Twinkie with Grandpa, who lived next door. I watched as he made me a leather tooled wallet which I still have, hidden away somewhere. I accidently burned down my sisters' playhouse with all of my toys inside. I sucked my thumb religiously. On my birthday I went to Ace Hardware and picked out a toy truck and house trailer for my present. That was so much fun- it had furniture inside and I spent houses playing with my PeeWee dolls, sometimes having dramatic accidents.
I also played house and carpenter downstairs, once sawing off the end of my thumb. I sat at the bottom of the scary steps, which were frightening to me to climb up, and cried until my mother came and rescued me. My mother says it was the best year of her life, a selfish year in which she got to hang out with me alone. I'd have to say that with the exception of sawing off the thumb part, that it was a pretty good year. Thanks Captain Kangeroo!
The year I was five was the year when I should have gone to kindergarten but didn't. My mother decided to keep me at home because I was too small (I was undersized until I was in college- soooo skinny!). And I watched Captain Kangeroo in the morning, played cards with my mother, went to the supermarket (which was a tiny store at the time) where the cashier always patted my head. I would get up every morning and go have a raspberry Twinkie with Grandpa, who lived next door. I watched as he made me a leather tooled wallet which I still have, hidden away somewhere. I accidently burned down my sisters' playhouse with all of my toys inside. I sucked my thumb religiously. On my birthday I went to Ace Hardware and picked out a toy truck and house trailer for my present. That was so much fun- it had furniture inside and I spent houses playing with my PeeWee dolls, sometimes having dramatic accidents.
I also played house and carpenter downstairs, once sawing off the end of my thumb. I sat at the bottom of the scary steps, which were frightening to me to climb up, and cried until my mother came and rescued me. My mother says it was the best year of her life, a selfish year in which she got to hang out with me alone. I'd have to say that with the exception of sawing off the thumb part, that it was a pretty good year. Thanks Captain Kangeroo!
Thursday, January 22, 2004
A Big Loser. As in I managed to lose three important things today- an artifact tag, an envelope of children's stories, and a pair of drawings. All three were eventually located, after a great deal of effort. But what a waste of time.
And then on the way home I got a call from someone looking for Cafe Mixteca. Now, I've had my phone number since September 1999. You would think people would finally realize that the number is no longer associated with that restaurant (which must have been good, given the number of calls). Also, the Chi Rho sorority is one number off from mine. No, you can't get a hold of Maggie or Suzie or Tiffany by calling me. Believe me, I do not have the correct number for either place. And I'm not interested in looking them up for you.
The rain is making little wild flowers pop up all over my front yard. It is going to be exciting to see all of those different flowers bloom in March through June.
And then on the way home I got a call from someone looking for Cafe Mixteca. Now, I've had my phone number since September 1999. You would think people would finally realize that the number is no longer associated with that restaurant (which must have been good, given the number of calls). Also, the Chi Rho sorority is one number off from mine. No, you can't get a hold of Maggie or Suzie or Tiffany by calling me. Believe me, I do not have the correct number for either place. And I'm not interested in looking them up for you.
The rain is making little wild flowers pop up all over my front yard. It is going to be exciting to see all of those different flowers bloom in March through June.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Tax time. I'm probably odd because I don't mind paying taxes. I think of it as an obligation, paying for government services. Of course I wish I could pick where the money went. Instead of bombs and big bucks for the Bush-Cheney crowd I would be sending it to poor people. Like that would ever happen.
So I dig through my box of receipts, bank statements, credit card bills. And for some reason I can'f find last year's tax forms. I know I had them early last year when I got a second mortgage, but what did I ever do with that folder? It isn't the end of the world if I don't have it, but it also confounds me. Where, of where has 2002 tax form gone?
In other news, Jenny and I finished looking at the thousands of bones from the Chinese well today. It was a very interesting collection- more than half pig, which is unusual for Tucson. Very little wild game. Imported fish and cuttlefish (a squid-like creature). A cat, some kittens, and a puppy all chopped up. The beef bones were all high quality cuts. The five or six Chinese farmers who were living a couple of thousand feet from my house were eating very well, much better than many of their Anglo and Mexican neighbors.
Now back to finishing some other reports and then I need to go to the boss and ask "What's next?"
So I dig through my box of receipts, bank statements, credit card bills. And for some reason I can'f find last year's tax forms. I know I had them early last year when I got a second mortgage, but what did I ever do with that folder? It isn't the end of the world if I don't have it, but it also confounds me. Where, of where has 2002 tax form gone?
In other news, Jenny and I finished looking at the thousands of bones from the Chinese well today. It was a very interesting collection- more than half pig, which is unusual for Tucson. Very little wild game. Imported fish and cuttlefish (a squid-like creature). A cat, some kittens, and a puppy all chopped up. The beef bones were all high quality cuts. The five or six Chinese farmers who were living a couple of thousand feet from my house were eating very well, much better than many of their Anglo and Mexican neighbors.
Now back to finishing some other reports and then I need to go to the boss and ask "What's next?"
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Okay! Bald is beautiful. And at least I don't wake up looking like President Bush every morning! If I did I would apply to Extreme Makeover and have that simpering smirk removed from my puss.
Kurt sent me a link to an interesting Bush commercial.
Kurt sent me a link to an interesting Bush commercial.
People say the darndest things. Last night David G. said, "Gee, you are really going bald!"
I will now pause and hold Puff a while, rocking back and forth in my chair.
I will now pause and hold Puff a while, rocking back and forth in my chair.
Monday, January 19, 2004
Civil rights are an important topic for me. Basically, I am tired of being a second class citizen in this country because I am gay-queer-faggot- whatever you fucking want to call me. It is amazing how so-called moral Christians can hate people with such abandon. But then many people have this bizarre need to feel superior in some way to others, it makes their lives so much better and fulfilling. Very strange.
Homosexuality runs in my mother's family. Her aunt Bessie was a lesbian, back before there were lesbians. And no one put 2+2 together (except me). She was a WAC during World War II and had a special "friend." Lived in a military retirement community in California far away from pestering relatives. Sent my sister a letter when she was getting married telling her "There are other options besides getting married to a man." No one caught on. Last year a distant relative stopped emailing me after she sent me an anti-gay email and I had to inform her that there were many queers in our family. Poor woman.
Thanks Aunt Bessie, for being such a cool individual. I'm sure you would be glad to know you are appreciated.
Aunt Bessie, circa 1945.
Homosexuality runs in my mother's family. Her aunt Bessie was a lesbian, back before there were lesbians. And no one put 2+2 together (except me). She was a WAC during World War II and had a special "friend." Lived in a military retirement community in California far away from pestering relatives. Sent my sister a letter when she was getting married telling her "There are other options besides getting married to a man." No one caught on. Last year a distant relative stopped emailing me after she sent me an anti-gay email and I had to inform her that there were many queers in our family. Poor woman.
Thanks Aunt Bessie, for being such a cool individual. I'm sure you would be glad to know you are appreciated.
Aunt Bessie, circa 1945.Sunday, January 18, 2004
Shopping Day. I've been awful busy being poor lately, so now that I have a paycheck in the bank and the bills are paid, I get to go shopping. For exciting things like food and cat litter and toilet paper. But the highlight will be going to buy a new washing machine. The old one had been making horrible sounds for several years and finally kicked the bucket. It "works" on a couple of settings, but doesn't get all of the soap out. So I'm off to Sears and instead of that new digital camera I've been wanting I'm getting a Kenmore. That deserved an exclamation point, but I just couldn't get the energy to press the shift key for it.
Oh and all of you poor freezing East Coast people, it is going to be in the 70s here today.
Oh and all of you poor freezing East Coast people, it is going to be in the 70s here today.
Friday, January 16, 2004
I've been bad, I've gone to the Shelter without Panchesco as a guide. But Jeffrey T. wanted a drink and I can't go back to Kon Tiki for another ten years or so.
We had gone to an Ethiopian restaurant for dinner. Nice, healthy, filling. So a drink was in order. The Shelter is all about the 60s, at least the tacky part of that decade. My favorite things at the bar are the Kennedy-King-Kennedy tv dinner tray and the Jetson's chandelier above the bar. I can't say the Cosmopolitan martini was a favorite. Although after I pulled the orange peel out it was a little better.
If I was a straight woman I'd hang out at that bar- the guys are pretty good looking. Even the dowdy blonde had some big muscle-bound lug hanging onto her, as Jeffrey and I noticed.
We had gone to an Ethiopian restaurant for dinner. Nice, healthy, filling. So a drink was in order. The Shelter is all about the 60s, at least the tacky part of that decade. My favorite things at the bar are the Kennedy-King-Kennedy tv dinner tray and the Jetson's chandelier above the bar. I can't say the Cosmopolitan martini was a favorite. Although after I pulled the orange peel out it was a little better.
If I was a straight woman I'd hang out at that bar- the guys are pretty good looking. Even the dowdy blonde had some big muscle-bound lug hanging onto her, as Jeffrey and I noticed.
Thursday, January 15, 2004
I'm supposed to be in bed but I've been running on full steam all day long. Looking at bones, answering questions, doing research. Came home and discovered two gigantic cockroaches hiding out underneath a cat little box. Super yukky. I was amazed when I moved to Arizona to see how big roaches can get. These were about 1.5 inches long. I wish I had taken a picture of it to gross everyone out.
So now I'm off to bed. And tomorrow more of the same.
So now I'm off to bed. And tomorrow more of the same.
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Comments, if you please. So my old comment section mysteriously disappeared. I have successfully added Haloscan, so will be looking forward to hearing from people.
Outside it is raining- a slow drizzle that should help the wildflowers sprouting in my front yard. I can't wait for them, this year I have a lot more and a greater variety.
Spent the day working with Jenny on animal bones from a Chinese gardeners well dating from about 1880 to 1900 that were dug up a few years ago. We are going through bags, identifying which animals are present and which parts of the animals. As an example, there are a lot of pig bones, ranging from little baby pigs to the skulls of almost fully grown hogs. Obviously, they were growing pigs on their farm. Also finding smaller amounts of beef and mutton, along with chicken, duck, and even a little kitten. I sent the fish bones out to a guy in California who identified them- 19 species from Arizona, the Pacific coast, and from China. Why is all of this important? Basically the Chinese men who lived in Tucson didn't leave any records of their lives. So the artifacts and bones from the well tell us what foods they ate, how they prepared them, and even what they did in their spare time. It adds a few facts to the history of Tucson. And helps pay my bills!
Outside it is raining- a slow drizzle that should help the wildflowers sprouting in my front yard. I can't wait for them, this year I have a lot more and a greater variety.
Spent the day working with Jenny on animal bones from a Chinese gardeners well dating from about 1880 to 1900 that were dug up a few years ago. We are going through bags, identifying which animals are present and which parts of the animals. As an example, there are a lot of pig bones, ranging from little baby pigs to the skulls of almost fully grown hogs. Obviously, they were growing pigs on their farm. Also finding smaller amounts of beef and mutton, along with chicken, duck, and even a little kitten. I sent the fish bones out to a guy in California who identified them- 19 species from Arizona, the Pacific coast, and from China. Why is all of this important? Basically the Chinese men who lived in Tucson didn't leave any records of their lives. So the artifacts and bones from the well tell us what foods they ate, how they prepared them, and even what they did in their spare time. It adds a few facts to the history of Tucson. And helps pay my bills!
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Acid stomach. Argh, occasionally I have acid reflux or something similar. I've been lucky and haven't experienced this for several years. Well it started last Thursday in Saint Louis and now whenever I eat I developed a burning feeling that doesn't go away, no matter how much pepto or anti-acids I consume. Perhaps that is the reason I feel extraordinarily cranky. Screaming at other drivers cranky. Wanting to interrupt older people to tell them to shut up or get to the point cranky. Fudgety, fudge fudge.
I'm supposed to be at a meeting at this moment and supposed to have a newsletter put together tomorrow but the stomach issue makes me ignore these pressing problems, so instead I look at important websites instead:
1). Lovely shoes.
2). Create your own comic.
3). A buddy's budding weblog.
4). Plastic bead mosaic mania.
I'm supposed to be at a meeting at this moment and supposed to have a newsletter put together tomorrow but the stomach issue makes me ignore these pressing problems, so instead I look at important websites instead:
1). Lovely shoes.
2). Create your own comic.
3). A buddy's budding weblog.
4). Plastic bead mosaic mania.
Monday, January 12, 2004
Okay so ranting about GeoWBush is just plain useless. So I wouldn't bother reading the babble below because I'm guessing it is something you have already processed and if you disagree with it, then you probably shouldn't read anymore anyway.
I had a completely lazy night and found myself strangely drawn to the Average Joe television program. Beauty queen and a bunch of nice/strange "average" guys. It really is scraping the bottom, and the most interesting guys are the freakiest. I wouldn't date any of them. And I wonder what the gay version would be- a bunch of "average" (ahem) guys competing with a bunch of "above-average" guys for the chance to be with some hunk? Bravo channel, are you paying attention???
I had a completely lazy night and found myself strangely drawn to the Average Joe television program. Beauty queen and a bunch of nice/strange "average" guys. It really is scraping the bottom, and the most interesting guys are the freakiest. I wouldn't date any of them. And I wonder what the gay version would be- a bunch of "average" (ahem) guys competing with a bunch of "above-average" guys for the chance to be with some hunk? Bravo channel, are you paying attention???
Benefits of being away. It was nice to not bother with newspapers, television news, and the internet while I was gone. I didn't have a clue really as to what bullshit G. W. Bush was putting the nation through. Oh wait, we are going to establish a moon base and send astronauts to Mars. And suddenly we love illegal aliens. Jesus fucking Christ. If he isn't full of stinking crap. Like the Republicans have any intention of pushing space travel. But it sounds nice... And people who vote for George and Dick probably haven't wondered how the hell we can pay for that very expensive undertaking. Maybe welfare moms don't need money for food and housing after all. Better yet, why not have an all-welfare-mom moon base!!! And the illegal alien thing, that was pretty brilliant. Perhaps it will garner them a few votes. Who knows. All I know is that our nation is being run by a cabal of fucked out money whores.
End of editorial.
My comment section just disappeared into the air. I have no clue why that has happened, I was at work busy spending your tax payer dollars when it took place. Maybe Republican welfare moon base Mexican moms hacked into Blogger and did it. Or maybe it was Senator Santorum!
End of editorial.
My comment section just disappeared into the air. I have no clue why that has happened, I was at work busy spending your tax payer dollars when it took place. Maybe Republican welfare moon base Mexican moms hacked into Blogger and did it. Or maybe it was Senator Santorum!
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Can't sleep. Not surprising as I'm home and Mama Cat is climbing on me and I just cleaned the litter boxes (blech!) and my stomach is still a little off. So I uploaded my pictures.
Standing beneath the huge arch.
I'm always somewhat skeptical about grandiose architecture, but the arch in St. Louis is really spectacular from the outside.
I walked up to it this morning from the hotel, a little chilly. Went to the horrid museum below. Whoever designed the exhibits believed more-is-better and as a result I didn't want to look at anything. And there were these creepy animatronic people- scary.
I love sexy statues.
Apparently, I'm not the only one...
Standing beneath the huge arch.
I'm always somewhat skeptical about grandiose architecture, but the arch in St. Louis is really spectacular from the outside.
I walked up to it this morning from the hotel, a little chilly. Went to the horrid museum below. Whoever designed the exhibits believed more-is-better and as a result I didn't want to look at anything. And there were these creepy animatronic people- scary.
I love sexy statues.
Apparently, I'm not the only one...
Oh I'm back. A very tiring day filled with endless airport waiting, acid reflux, and a return to a stinky house. Someone was supposed to stop by and check on the cats and it didn't happen. Luckily I had put out a huge amount of food and left out enough water. But, anyway. And Joey managed to pee on both couches, although the oilclothes prevented anything from soaking in. Blech. Only a few months and she will become an Amish cat. Puff is damn happy to see the human, and is now sitting on my lap.
Some new pictures to post tomorrow and I'll be attempting to fix the scrolling problem. [update- my sitemeter was the culprit] Until then, can you guess which confession is mine?
Some new pictures to post tomorrow and I'll be attempting to fix the scrolling problem. [update- my sitemeter was the culprit] Until then, can you guess which confession is mine?
Friday, January 09, 2004
Meet me in St. Louis. I'm at the St. Louis Public Library. Hanging out with the homeless guys, most of whom seem to have email accounts. I've had a low key couple of days. Was intending to go out and actually do something last night but a falafel sandwich I had for dinner gave me a wretched stomach ache. I lay in bed until 2 am feeling sorry for myself. And why does hotel cable television suck so supremely???
My presentation went well yesterday- I always do a good job. Have seen only a handful of people I know here- most of my friends stayed home this year. The library is 5 blocks from the hotel. Some nice buildings and I looked up today and finally noticed that big arch. But like many places downtown St. Louis is dead. A preponderance of government buildings and not enough housing. I forgot my toothbrush and asked the hotel concierge where the nearest pharmacy was. "Two miles away." Fuck. How do people live without cars?
And Eric, I didn't mean to sound mean! And I'll try resetting the column width, which Blogger seems to have reset by itself. And Sush, I hope you are having a lovely day. Later.
My presentation went well yesterday- I always do a good job. Have seen only a handful of people I know here- most of my friends stayed home this year. The library is 5 blocks from the hotel. Some nice buildings and I looked up today and finally noticed that big arch. But like many places downtown St. Louis is dead. A preponderance of government buildings and not enough housing. I forgot my toothbrush and asked the hotel concierge where the nearest pharmacy was. "Two miles away." Fuck. How do people live without cars?
And Eric, I didn't mean to sound mean! And I'll try resetting the column width, which Blogger seems to have reset by itself. And Sush, I hope you are having a lovely day. Later.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Up, up, and away. I leave in a couple of hours for the metropolis of St. Louis to attend an archaeology conference. Normally I look forward to going, but this year a culmination of budgetary forces has resulted in my having poco dinero in my bank account. So if you happen to see me scrounging in the dumpsters behind restaurants, kindly look the other way. Perhaps no blog entries until I get back.
While in complaining mode.... if you say you are going to call and that we are going to have breakfast/lunch/dinner/etc, it would be nice if you actually made the effort and did so. Twice, recently, this has happened. Phone calls left unanswered. It doesn't take a PhD to figure out a lack of interest, but how hard is it to tell someone that fact (well, actually it is difficult, but I'm the one whining here). Plus, I'm owed two meals. I'm not taking someone out for dinner for a while.
Plus my washing machine has broken. I knew it was on life support, gasping for air. But the sudden death was a total shock. As well as very inconvenient. Actually it still runs on the permanent press setting but when you wash blue jeans on that setting they come out horribly soggy because permanent press clothes (which I deny owning) apparently don't get spun as much as "normal" clothes (that's what the washing machine calls them). I wonder if Eric has any permanent press clothes?
Lastly, has anyone else noticed that it is impossible to scroll down past a couple of entries for my recent posts? I'm wondering if it is just my particular browser doing this.
While in complaining mode.... if you say you are going to call and that we are going to have breakfast/lunch/dinner/etc, it would be nice if you actually made the effort and did so. Twice, recently, this has happened. Phone calls left unanswered. It doesn't take a PhD to figure out a lack of interest, but how hard is it to tell someone that fact (well, actually it is difficult, but I'm the one whining here). Plus, I'm owed two meals. I'm not taking someone out for dinner for a while.
Plus my washing machine has broken. I knew it was on life support, gasping for air. But the sudden death was a total shock. As well as very inconvenient. Actually it still runs on the permanent press setting but when you wash blue jeans on that setting they come out horribly soggy because permanent press clothes (which I deny owning) apparently don't get spun as much as "normal" clothes (that's what the washing machine calls them). I wonder if Eric has any permanent press clothes?
Lastly, has anyone else noticed that it is impossible to scroll down past a couple of entries for my recent posts? I'm wondering if it is just my particular browser doing this.
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Plasticity. Goddamn, sometimes I amaze myself. My mother was here for the Holiday craft party and saw how much my friends loved making doodaas, so for an Xmas present she sent me this plastic bead mosaic kit. Basically you have these plastic boards with small pegs that you position plastic beads on. Once you have finished the design, you iron it and the beads fuse into colorful mosaics. I thought that it was really stupid, but when I was utterly bored in my freezing house I made one and it was the most fun EVER. Well, perhaps that is worded a little strongly. It was entertaining. And I have made Michelle, Mimi, Larry, and Eric all do one and they agreed, it was the most fun ever. So at the end of the month or in early February I am going to have a single-gay-boy craft and pizza party. Maybe we will even play spin the bottle and twister, you never know.
The most fun ever, or, I need a boyfriend badly.
The most fun ever, or, I need a boyfriend badly.
Monday, January 05, 2004
Kon Tiki is a trashy Polynesian-themed bar/restaurant (although who would really want to eat the "Pu Pu Platter?" here in Tucson. I decided to frequent the place for the second time in 10 years, along with Jeffrey T. While there he had a really strong drink while I sipped my thankfully weaker one. We discussed school, Mexico, cockroaches, and observed heterosexual bonding behavior while surrounded by palm fronds, beaded thingys, carved idols, and other inspired foolishness. The whole place looked like it would explode in flames at any moment, turning us into a cannibal barbeque. Luckily that did not occur and we survived, perhaps to return ten years from now. Afterwards Jeffrey and I hung out and talked about his lovely, although sometimes wicked, cat Magic.
Jeffrey T.
Jeffrey T.
Sunday, January 04, 2004
My character flaws.
1). I'm addicted to caffeine- but hate coffee.
2). Chocolate is an important source of vitamins.
3). I'm more interested in the truth.
4). Cigarettes stink.
5). Gossip can be educational.
6). Animals are much more likeable than Republicans.
7). Why can't exercising be fun?
8). I eat too fast.
9). I like flowers and cried when the X gave me a bouquet.
10). I think 40 is the new 15.
11). I don't bite, really.
1). I'm addicted to caffeine- but hate coffee.
2). Chocolate is an important source of vitamins.
3). I'm more interested in the truth.
4). Cigarettes stink.
5). Gossip can be educational.
6). Animals are much more likeable than Republicans.
7). Why can't exercising be fun?
8). I eat too fast.
9). I like flowers and cried when the X gave me a bouquet.
10). I think 40 is the new 15.
11). I don't bite, really.
Saturday, January 03, 2004
Well worth waiting. A nice dinner, pleasant conversation, a roaring '73 Mustang. Good time. And when I got back home I finished the footnote editing for my book- 520 pages and 4,433 footnotes- so far. I'll be publishing it on the web since it is going to be too long (and expensive) to print. And what will I be doing on Sunday?
Wait, wait, waiting. Time goes real slow when you are expecting something. Like a date or the workday to end. Of these, the first is more exciting. So I wait, wait, wait. And when it happens time will speed up and go by so fast. Why can't it be the other way around, that the good times seem to last forever?
Friday, January 02, 2004
Redheads. So the first day in 2004 was running a little slow and dull, I have to admit. I worked on my book, getting so close to finishing the review of footnotes. I played with the cats. I wore my red hat because it was cold. I went to Target and pondered DVDs but remembered that I was going to be buying a new computer instead. I went over to work to print out some emails and my cell rings.
"I bet you don't know who this is?" he said. And he was right. One hint and his distinctive voice was remembered. It was the cute redhead fireman from Halloween night. He explained that he had been a little embarrassed to call me because he had been so tipsy that night. I was glad he called, I had been looking for him. So I asked him out on Saturday night.
And then today at the photo store, there was a really cute redhead named Andy. He was cute, tall and lanky, nice features. Oh my.
At home now the only cute redhead is Joey. She is sleeping on her pillow, behaving herself for the moment. I pick Puff up and he snuggles on my lap. The second day of 2004 has been kinda nice, I have to admit.
"I bet you don't know who this is?" he said. And he was right. One hint and his distinctive voice was remembered. It was the cute redhead fireman from Halloween night. He explained that he had been a little embarrassed to call me because he had been so tipsy that night. I was glad he called, I had been looking for him. So I asked him out on Saturday night.
And then today at the photo store, there was a really cute redhead named Andy. He was cute, tall and lanky, nice features. Oh my.
At home now the only cute redhead is Joey. She is sleeping on her pillow, behaving herself for the moment. I pick Puff up and he snuggles on my lap. The second day of 2004 has been kinda nice, I have to admit.
Thursday, January 01, 2004
I'm a terrible backseat driver, but last night as we drove from Cafe Terracotta to Julie's house I had to say something. We had finished a very expensive, somewhat mediocre meal at a very fancy restaurant (with only one vegetarian entree, come on, it is the 21st century!) and we crammed back into the car. I was in the back with Len and Gordon, a nice couple from Vancouver. We followed Julie's car and once out in the desert Larry pushed the accelerator to the floor, up and down hills, around tight corners. No street lights, very dark. I became more and more apprehensive as we whisked around yet another corner and I was shoved into Len. He and Gordon were starting to make little noises as well.
Finally. "Larry?" "Yes?," he asked. "You gotta slow down, it is getting scary back here." Larry protests that he is driving fine, but then assumes I am feeling carsick. I play that up because it is a useful excuse and he returns to a nice safe speed and I can relax. I will not be a tragic New Years Eve traffic fatality. Actually, since I had my seat belt on, that was unlikely to happen, but I really wanted to not have to pick broken safety glass and cactus spines out of my hair. So apologies to Larry, if you read this. Next year I think I will drive, though.
Finally. "Larry?" "Yes?," he asked. "You gotta slow down, it is getting scary back here." Larry protests that he is driving fine, but then assumes I am feeling carsick. I play that up because it is a useful excuse and he returns to a nice safe speed and I can relax. I will not be a tragic New Years Eve traffic fatality. Actually, since I had my seat belt on, that was unlikely to happen, but I really wanted to not have to pick broken safety glass and cactus spines out of my hair. So apologies to Larry, if you read this. Next year I think I will drive, though.
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Thirteen years ago- or was in 14? I was at nice Grandma's house on New Years and the phone rang and my grandmother called me. That was very unusual because only family knew I was there. It was my roommate calling me from Toronto to tell me that Philip had been murdered. He had the dubious distinction of being that year's first homicide victim in Dallas. Mugged, shot in the head, cursed at as he lay dying.
I didn't know Philip very well. I was a second year grad student, he came in the year after me. But we were the only gay guys in the department and there was that little bond. He was over-tanned and more concerned about clothing and cologne than I was. He studied bones and I would see him outside my office while he was awaiting, with the other physical anthropology students, to dissect a cadaver. Finally at the end of the year we hung out a little and even went out to one of Phoenix's gay bars. And the next fall he decided to take a break and was working at a hotel that night. Walking home with a friend. The police in Dallas never made a great effort to find who killed him. After all, he was only a queer.
Although I didn't know Philip well, I knew he was more than that. He was a son, a brother, a friend of many people. He was handsome, perhaps a little too mechanically tanned. He was funny, smart, and yes, he was queer. He worried about the same things that other gay guys worried about. He didn't deserve to be shot in the head over a wallet and then called vile names.
On New Years Eve I often think of Philip and wonder what would have happened if he had left work five minutes early. Life, and death, can be so cruel.
I didn't know Philip very well. I was a second year grad student, he came in the year after me. But we were the only gay guys in the department and there was that little bond. He was over-tanned and more concerned about clothing and cologne than I was. He studied bones and I would see him outside my office while he was awaiting, with the other physical anthropology students, to dissect a cadaver. Finally at the end of the year we hung out a little and even went out to one of Phoenix's gay bars. And the next fall he decided to take a break and was working at a hotel that night. Walking home with a friend. The police in Dallas never made a great effort to find who killed him. After all, he was only a queer.
Although I didn't know Philip well, I knew he was more than that. He was a son, a brother, a friend of many people. He was handsome, perhaps a little too mechanically tanned. He was funny, smart, and yes, he was queer. He worried about the same things that other gay guys worried about. He didn't deserve to be shot in the head over a wallet and then called vile names.
On New Years Eve I often think of Philip and wonder what would have happened if he had left work five minutes early. Life, and death, can be so cruel.
Tuesday, December 30, 2003
Lessons learned. 2003 is almost done, about ready to be consigned to a shelf or an archive. So what have I learned in the last calender year?
1). First and second impressions are often wrong. In a good way or, more often, in a bad way, as in, "I didn't expect that..."
2). Confidence is sexy. Cave men are sexier.
3). Repeat a lie loudly and often and the majority of people will want to believe it is the truth.
4). Money and corruption pretty much go hand in hand.
5). Calling you representatives' offices and yelling at staff members is probably useless but is an excellent stress reliever.
6). Cats have short memories.
7). I have a long memory.
8). I'm going to be an annoying old person.
9). The internet is better than religion.
So what have you learned this year?
1). First and second impressions are often wrong. In a good way or, more often, in a bad way, as in, "I didn't expect that..."
2). Confidence is sexy. Cave men are sexier.
3). Repeat a lie loudly and often and the majority of people will want to believe it is the truth.
4). Money and corruption pretty much go hand in hand.
5). Calling you representatives' offices and yelling at staff members is probably useless but is an excellent stress reliever.
6). Cats have short memories.
7). I have a long memory.
8). I'm going to be an annoying old person.
9). The internet is better than religion.
So what have you learned this year?
Monday, December 29, 2003
That night. Thawed out, the house is still pretty cold. A police helicopter is circling around outside and a siren grows louder and then softer, although can a siren ever really be soft?
Conversations with JR and Robert and Larry today. Robert is leaving the soap opera soon, starting his new show in Dallas. Luckily JR is not planning on going to Dallas, although that would be ironic. Instead he has started the process of making breakfast happen at Something Sweet. Larry spent his day dealing with the idjits who work for QWest, our local phone "service." And I struggled valiantly to the credit union, where unusually weird people stood in line in front of me. After one obviously drugged-up boy slurred to the cashier that he needed four, yes four, money orders, I muttered "This is pointless!" and left, a half hour of my life wasted.
Conversations with JR and Robert and Larry today. Robert is leaving the soap opera soon, starting his new show in Dallas. Luckily JR is not planning on going to Dallas, although that would be ironic. Instead he has started the process of making breakfast happen at Something Sweet. Larry spent his day dealing with the idjits who work for QWest, our local phone "service." And I struggled valiantly to the credit union, where unusually weird people stood in line in front of me. After one obviously drugged-up boy slurred to the cashier that he needed four, yes four, money orders, I muttered "This is pointless!" and left, a half hour of my life wasted.
Hell freezes over. I'm at home in my freezing cold house with frozen hot water pipes. Sigh. I need to get to work so I am heating up some water so I can at least shave. The pipes have frozen at work as well. I'll probably remember this fondly next summer when it is 115 degrees.
Sunday, December 28, 2003
Cold Mountain. It is always a few degrees cooler next to Sentinel Peak, and today is the coldest of the cold days so far. My house absorbs cool, clutches it in the thick fired adobe bricks. Releases the wickedness inside where the cats huddle in certain spots for warmth. Puff slumps across the top of the monitor. Mama and Bear and Princess squat on the window sill. Joey is, as always, off on her own on a pillow, curled tightly.
The cats are mad. I've closed off the study and their bathroom, turned on the little electric heater. A closed door presents an obstacle, whatever is on the other side must be better, inside the cat's mind. They peer beneath the door, reach under with their paws, attempt to pull the door open. When they fail they become disgruntled. Mama Cat swats at Joey, Puff complains loudly. If they get outside they immediately want back into the warm sanctuary, where that amazing human, you know the one that feeds us and gives us pets, hides in front of the box that makes that funny sound.
I read the New York Times today. Eating a bit of chocolate, I set the paper aside for a moment because I can't eat chocolate and read about human suffering- earthquake in Iran, wounded Iraqis, exploited Wal Mart employees. To divert myself I check Google and am pleased to see that the unofficial Senator Santorum webpage is now ranked fourth. I imagine indignant conservatives stumbling across that website and it warms my heart. For a moment I forget about the cold.
The cats are mad. I've closed off the study and their bathroom, turned on the little electric heater. A closed door presents an obstacle, whatever is on the other side must be better, inside the cat's mind. They peer beneath the door, reach under with their paws, attempt to pull the door open. When they fail they become disgruntled. Mama Cat swats at Joey, Puff complains loudly. If they get outside they immediately want back into the warm sanctuary, where that amazing human, you know the one that feeds us and gives us pets, hides in front of the box that makes that funny sound.
I read the New York Times today. Eating a bit of chocolate, I set the paper aside for a moment because I can't eat chocolate and read about human suffering- earthquake in Iran, wounded Iraqis, exploited Wal Mart employees. To divert myself I check Google and am pleased to see that the unofficial Senator Santorum webpage is now ranked fourth. I imagine indignant conservatives stumbling across that website and it warms my heart. For a moment I forget about the cold.
Saturday, December 27, 2003
Oh crap! Sometimes I wonder how much more I can cram into my head. I have so many names, dates, and anecdotes inside me I feel like I can burst. Sometimes I'm too smart for my own good. Sometimes I'm wrong but I won't admit it. I burn with embarassment if that turns out to be the case.
"Nobody likes a crybaby," I say to Puff as he meows at me. Minutes later I realize the cat food dish is empty and he has been trying to tell me that he is hungry. Right now I can hear the crunch-crunch-crunch as he chomps away. In contrast, my stomach is full from Chinese food from Guilin, a leisurely meal with Larry and Eric. Too many spicy string beans. But a little room for chocolate when I come home. A missed call blinks on my forgotten cell phone. I often forget to carry it with me because my head is to full of other important things. When does your head say enough is enough?
"Nobody likes a crybaby," I say to Puff as he meows at me. Minutes later I realize the cat food dish is empty and he has been trying to tell me that he is hungry. Right now I can hear the crunch-crunch-crunch as he chomps away. In contrast, my stomach is full from Chinese food from Guilin, a leisurely meal with Larry and Eric. Too many spicy string beans. But a little room for chocolate when I come home. A missed call blinks on my forgotten cell phone. I often forget to carry it with me because my head is to full of other important things. When does your head say enough is enough?
Friday, December 26, 2003
Grilled. John R. is in town so he calls me and comes over and we go to the Grill downtown. It is a cool diner, ripped vinyl booths and cracked paintings. We sat at the counter and gossiped while John ate his mad-cow burger (very well done).
Painting on the wall at the Grill.
John moved to Phoenix a couple of years ago and I don't get to see him as much as I would like.
John.
Afterward we went thrift store shopping- nothing to purchase. And then stopped by Something Sweet where Lacey brought out fattening desserts and we played cards.
As the picture suggests, I was having a good day.
Painting on the wall at the Grill.
John moved to Phoenix a couple of years ago and I don't get to see him as much as I would like.
John.
Afterward we went thrift store shopping- nothing to purchase. And then stopped by Something Sweet where Lacey brought out fattening desserts and we played cards.
As the picture suggests, I was having a good day.
Thursday, December 25, 2003
A cold perhaps? Or bad allergies, I am suddenly a snot factory. If only there was money in it.
Christmas dinner at Shane, Brian, and Ed's house. A small group of nice guys. We ate, drank, and talked. My cheesecake went over well. I sat between Shane and John. I had met John at my 40th birthday party and had been impressed by his easy going nature. So today we visited and later I sat on the front porch with his partner Gordon and Brian and talked some more. I purposely ate little and feel absolutely normal, except for the runny nose business.
John. I have a friend Mike who could be John's younger twin.
Gordon. He and John have a new pickup truck- nice and shiny.
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Christmas dinner at Shane, Brian, and Ed's house. A small group of nice guys. We ate, drank, and talked. My cheesecake went over well. I sat between Shane and John. I had met John at my 40th birthday party and had been impressed by his easy going nature. So today we visited and later I sat on the front porch with his partner Gordon and Brian and talked some more. I purposely ate little and feel absolutely normal, except for the runny nose business.
John. I have a friend Mike who could be John's younger twin.
Gordon. He and John have a new pickup truck- nice and shiny.
