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The Rest of the Weekend

Took Duncan to the airport this morning, hit the supermarket, and then experienced SF Gay Pride firsthand as I tried to find a parking space in the same zip code as my house. I repeat my call for the parade to be shifted back to its old route (ending in the Finacial District rather than Civic Center, which is way too close to home).

Now, groceries stowed (if a little wilted after driving around in circles), I’m munching on a chocolate doughnut from Alberston’s and watching Fatal Vision on A&E. I’m Proud™ to be home, Proud™ not to be wearing an ugly white tank top and rainbow beads, and VERY Proud™ not be sweating or sunburned.

I may vacuum later, once again using the Glade Carpet Neutralizer which means I can’t smell the embedded cigarette smoke, even though everyone else probably still can.

Duncan’s visit was fun. In addition to Santa Monica, we made some nice long drives to nowhere (a patented Planet SOMA activity) and ate well. I finally saw the second series of Tales of the City and we hit the corner saloon briefly on Thursday night. A couple of nice men fondled me while Duncan waited patiently at the bar. And we had dinner with Dan and Jamie on Friday night.

 

It’s very much whetted my appetite for some more time in LA. Details to come. For now I’m Proud™ that I have plenty of toilet paper so I don’t have to leave the house again today…

Be forewarned that this picture has absolutely nothing to do with anything else on today’s front page…

Well, some days it’s just fun coming home and reading the email. Today’s collection brought an offer to write essays for an actual printed magazine (for money even) and an interview for an upcoming article in the Portland Oregonian. I think this is my first actual legitimate newspaper interview. My importance to the article will be minimal; I’ll be coy and say that the subject invoved bottles…

So all in all, I’m feeling pretty happy with today. My ego has been stroked. And I’m still happy about how nicely several other parts of my body were stroked Sunday at the corner sex bar. Note to cute spiky-haired boy: spitting is not really any more or less “safe” than swallowing. And watch those teeth, dammit…

Sorry. I was just practicing for the essay gig; it’s supposed to be vaguely sex-related, and since I don’t really write about sex much lately (as there hasn’t been much sex to write ABOUT lately), I’m a little out of practice…

The length of that last sentence might have cost me the job anyhow…

Digital Reminiscing

Vague nostalgia this afternoon. After reading the nice things Becky said about me on her new site, I started thinking back to who inspired me as I was getting started with Planet SOMA back in the dark ages of the mid 1990s.

Unfortunately, a lot of the sites I was looking at back in 1995 and 1996 no longer exist, with the notable exception of Justin’s Links from the Underground, which could easily be called the grandfather of the personal web site. I guess it’s been a primary inspiration over the years, even though I rarely stop by anymore.

The personal sites I look at regularly these days would include these:

I don’t get around much these days. Life is about spending less time in front of the computer, not more time…

Neither do I spend as much time on email. I was moving all my archived mail from ZIP disks to my hard drive today and I looked at some of the older stuff. I realized that:

  • I used to engage in serious ongoing correspondence (daily even) with people I’d never met. I don’t do nearly as much of this now.
  • I used to have email relationships with a few people which were considerably more flirtatious than I remember.
  • There are a lot fewer people using AOL than there used to be. Or at least a lot fewer of them are contacting me.

I’ve reached the bottom of the page and I’m hungry, so I’ll stop short of tying this all together into ny sort of coherent thought or theme.

Sex, Resolutions, and Things I Love

I made a boy grits this morning, after having been awake with him most of the night. Use your imagination…

It was a little odd. I haven’t brought anyone much home in a long time, much less allowed them to spend the night and get the whole breakfast package. I had no intention of doing so last night either. I was already worn out at midnight, and I really intended to have one quick beer at My Place, maybe avail myself of the backroom, and come home to sleep.

Anyway, I had fun. He was cute as a bug’s ear, intelligent, and even nice. I barely noticed that he was (gasp) 13 years younger than me. I wouldn’t even mind a second go-round, which means I’ll probably never hear from him again.

All the same, I sure would like to have had just a little bit more sleep last night…

Resolutions for July:

  • Quit smoking.
  • Answer the email a bit faster.
  • Pursue design and writing jobs more aggressively.
  • Eliminate the part-time job I hate so much.
  • Do the laundry once a month whether I need to or not.
  • Obtain health insurance with the money I’ve saved by not smoking.

I should be able to do all those things, shouldn’t I?

Things I love today:

  • Safeway Select Garlic Lovers’ Salsa
  • The idea of being asleep in half an hour or so.
  • Andy Griffith Mondays on Nick-at-Nite.

Superlatives du Jour

Best unexpected song heard in a queer bar this weekend:

  • “Ah Leah” by Donnie Iris.

Most idiotic comment heard on the Discovery Channel this weekend:

  • “If it weren’t for George Washington, it’s quite possible we’d all be speaking Canadian now.”

This Week in…

Until today, it had apparently happened to just about everyone in San Francisco but me. I was so excited that it was finally my turn to get hit in the head by a nice big gob of pigeon shit while walking down Seventh Street.

Other than that, though, it’s been a passable week. There was slutdom on Saturday night, followed by a different flavor of slutdom on Monday night, dinner and fireworks with Dan and Jamie on Tuesday night, and lots of sleep on Wednesday. I think I’ve recovered just in time for the upcoming weekend.

Sixteen years ago this week, I was dumping a boyfriend and actively seeking a replacement. Fourteen years ago this week, I was dealing with someone who sort of became a boyfriend but sort of didn’t. Thirteen years ago this week I was still dealing with him. Nine years ago this week, I had finally learned that having boyfriends was no fun and I was being a major slut on a two-month trip to Charlotte. Three years ago this week, I reconsidered briefly but I came to my senses pretty fast, and I’ve pretty much stayed sane ever sense.

While we’re in the archives (for this month’s “I can’t think of any original content” journal entry):

  • Twenty years ago this week, I stole my mom’s car. I was not yet 16. She suspected. It was not pretty.
  • Fifteen years ago this week, I quit being the rock and roll DJ at the local queer bar. I still stick by that decision and was proud of my stand to protect the downtrodden heterosexuals of the world.
  • Two years ago this week, I was taking on the idiots who wear giant backpacks in crowded bars at night. They continue to annoy me.
  • This week last year, I was having my annual midlife crisis. Let’s not speak of 1999 again. I didn’t enjoy most of it.

Poor Athertonians

My heart really goes out to the poor bluebloods in Atherton whose garden parties have been disturbed by construction noise. It must be very distressing to them, and a real comfort to know that their economic clout can put and end to construction on weekends and holidays.

I understand their pain, because my neighborhood faces construction noise every day, and now we’re going to start hearing it every night too, since CalTrans has scheduled freeway retrofit work outside my window from 4-10 AT NIGHT for the next two months or so. I hate to think of the effect this will have on MY garden parties.

Of course, I didn’t pay five or ten million bucks for my house, so my predicament is naturally less important than the one faced by Atherton’s residents. My only consolation is that the yuppie idiots in the shoddily-constructed live/work loft across the street probably will hear (and feel) even more of the pile drivers than I will.

Speaking of idiots, check out David K’s intersting take on these idiots. Yes, I was quoted. Yes, I would have been amused even if I hadn’t been quoted. May be your only chance to read a Carl Jung citation on a smut site.

While you’re looking around, you might also check out this great page on the TenderNob, from a pretty darned good all-around site.

I’m now waiting for the UPS guy to show up. I hate UPS. As a company, they elevate incompetence and bad customer service to epic proportions. But that’s another rant…

Tastes Like You Spent Minutes

Could there be a better comfort food than Jello No-bake Cheesecake? As my friend Jon used to say, “Mmmm. Tastes like you spent minutes.”

Not, mind you, that I was feeling particularly uncomfortable today. I just had one on the verge of expiring and I figured I deserved it for getting so much done this week. Of course, had I gotten nothing at all done, I also would have believed I deserved it, as a stress-reliever.

This would explain my ample frame, no doubt.

Speaking of pre-packaged dessert products, time is running out for your submissions to the next installment of Did You Bring Bottles. I’ve already had one anoymous bit of mail with lots of great information, not to mention a couple with actual names attached to them. You could be next.

Speaking of food, I’m once again pondering the idea of my birthday gathering in August. Last year, I invited any intersted complete strangers (and a few friends), and it was pretty cool. I’m thinking of Tad’s again, just because it works so well when you have no idea how many people will show up. Other suggestions welcome. Gifts are neither required nor encouraged.

I’m also interested in hearing from anyone who could offer me some fascinating journal ideas, since I apparently have none right now. If only I were in the mood to go out, get drunk, and do something (or someone) stupid. Alas, I’m not. Oh well…

Gold Country

This one was just too much to resist. Came up with lots of exciting photos while driving through Gold Country on Sunday. An email correspondent pointed out that a vintage Safeway could be found in Pollock Pines, and that’s about as much of an excuse as I need for a quickie road trip.

In case you’re planning to send some of your friends or co-workers there, Jackass Hill Road (and presumably the hill itself) can be found off Highway 49 between Angel’s Camp and Sonora. It’s just down the road from the Glory Hole Center. What a convenient state California is! Jackass disposal and glory holes only a few miles apart.

Something of substance tomorrow, I promise.

I may not keep that promise.

Thanks

Thanks much to Adric (whose email address I also can’t find) for the two great books. Email me, wouldja?