yotz

2003-03-12T08:55:00.000-08:00

Umm.... looks like I was wrong about that whole thing about Amerie being the next big thing huh.. :)

2002-10-09T05:43:00.000-07:00

Just a post to verify my obvious hiatus. Back in December.

2002-08-30T11:23:00.000-07:00

A few reflections on the VMA's....

- That Dashboard Confessional guy is really cute and all, but he looks like the type to break every dish in the house after one little disagreement. Would his obvious sweetness be worth the drama ?

- Britney,.. I know you're stressed and trying to assert your womanhood and all that, but for the love of God, Scavullo's been looking for that hat all over the place, give it back so the man can have some peace.

- Ummm..., I love Christina Aguilera. I think she's wickedly talented and eventually will be seen as one of the better voices of our generation. However, if she continues to push the boundaries of skankdom, no will care how she sounds. A few more outfits like that, and that big fat house everyone made so much commotion about is going to end up on the auction block.

- It was kind of fucked up how Jimmy Fallon made a joke about Fat Joe eating one of the Olsen twins right after he lost for best Hip Hop video. I saw a Diary on him after he got nominated and he seemed so psyched at the possibility of winning. When they panned over to him, not only did he look like he was being assaulted by that chair he was crammed into, but you know he didn't see the humor in that shit.

- Didn't expect I'd end up feeling bad for Axl Rose. The re-birth of Guns-N-Roses (and I use re-birth in the same way you'd use it were you referring to food that made it's way back up your esophagus) looks like it's going to be painful to watch. Axl sounded horrible and looked like just doing his patented side-to-side slide was wearing him out. And what was the deal on the braids...

2002-08-29T06:48:00.000-07:00

I've had this post rambling around in my head for the last couple days. After downloading more Amerie, I'm still smitten, but it's fading. The production on her album reminds me a lot of the first MJB album becuase it's very basic. With the exception of I Just Died (which is a fantastic song), most of the other songs are pretty generic R&B/Hip Hop. Not painful to listen to or anything, but not groundbreaking either. She is stupidly beautiful though, [not as in Marilyn Monroe-ish kind of beauty (which I don't find attractive), but as in were she to pass you on a street, you'd be so busy gawking that you might walk into a wall or something] and genuinely talented, so I imagine she'll be a success despite her uninspired production.

I've been trying to download more David Bowie. Yesterday I downloaded God Know's I'm Good and aside from it being so depressing I considered pitching myself off the roof, is really quite beautiful in a simple way. Bowie is one of those phenomenons that never quite translated into my 80's era Caribbean upbringing. I always knew who he was, but I gave him the same equivalence as say...Bon Jovi (and yes, that is kind of scary). Now that I'm older and realize that he set the ball rolling in a lot of different ways, I dig him... it's just kind of tricky treasure hunting the MP3 landscape and seperating the gems from the crap.

2002-08-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

It's about 9:46 and my favorite co-worker hasn't shown up yet. This will make three times in the past two weeks that she's called in, if that's what she's actually doing. I feel nervous for her. She went on a mini-vacation this week and I wonder if she's stuck on some neighboring island right now.

I went out this weekend. To the same club I go to every weekend. To see the same people, listen to the same music, and drink the same 3.5 Heinekens that I do every Friday. The whole thing was depressing. The bar is filled with acquaintances, and I'd come in hope of finding someone who wasn't there. I ended up blathering on about Love, and why the f*cker was so late to make his appearance in my life. Scared off at least two friends who could empathize, but were a little too drunk for the flailing arms and frantic gestures that accompanied my speech. I left after about an hour becuase it was all just a little too much for me.

"if you don't like your job maybe you should quit, stop being a bitch and love yourself"

... a little Jaguar Wright. I got her album in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago and I've been loving it. Now if I could just get myself to live it...

2002-08-22T10:33:00.000-07:00

After a two month absence, I was so shocked and affronted last night, that I simply had to post about it... I mean, Tamyra ???!!?? Come on America! I was feeling the Afro-puff too, but TG has more talent in her split ends than Nikki does in her entire body. I missed Tuesdays episode, and from what I understand, TG was a little off during her first performance, but come on... There's no way Nikki could have been better.

Shock aside, it's probably better that TG got eliminated now. I don't see the winner of American Idol having a huge career. For some reason, people who gain their celebrity in this type of forum (via some kind of reality/game show type thing) never last long. The audience ends up knowing too much, too soon, and they lose intrest. Think about it, no one's talking about any of the Survivor winners, or any of the Real World or Road Rulers. So the quicker she gets off the show, the better. It's just a little distressing that her obvious and overwhelming talent was trumped by good packaging (I won't lie, that Nikki's got style to spare).

BTW... is anyone feeling Amerie? Why don't we fall in love is rocking my world. I've had it on my playlist on repeat for the last two weeks. There's something about her that reminds me a little bit of Mary J. Blige, well... the first album at least.

2002-06-17T13:48:00.000-07:00

i've always been a bit of a follow fashion...

Ok, some things I love...

• waking up on Saturday, thinking it's Friday, but realizing it's not before you get out of bed
• my Grandmother
• "old man, if you give those dogs one more piece of my food, I'm going to kick you till you're dead"
• Rufus Wainwright
• Limewire, and other sharing software that's broadened my horizons
• Puerto Rican Boys
• finding out that I'm not HIV positive after all
• ramen noodles with just a little bit of tabasco
• kissing on dancefloors
• the fact that I'm going to leave here in three months
• remembering that i can do anything i want to do
• Cribs, cause I'm a coveter yo
• God
• Lane Fuller
• the inside of a brand new sweatshirt
• Lex, despite myself
• Bjork
• the everlasting blogstalker, (miss you much)

links to come....

2002-06-13T13:19:00.000-07:00

In the midst of a funk. On the upside, I'm with good company. After pie-assing for the past two years I've reached the point where i MUST get off this island before I implode ; before the pressure of trying to maintain my closet (and all the petty beneath-me bullshit that that entails), cuases me to crack up and cave in on myself. So, having come to this conclusion, I've now begun the planning/saving process. After meeting with some friends last night I realized that my "plan" was both A. underfunded and B., underplanned. So, it's looking like I'm going to have to get a second job in order to finance my exit. Sucks. I've been down here for two years, and had I applied myself like a good drone, I'd have all kind of savings by now... but no, I had to grasshopper the time a way, and now I'm assed out.

When I was nineteen, I spent a summer with my grandmother in Ohio. After two battle-filled months, I was scheduled to leave on an early morning flight. Despite the hour of said flight, I went out and got drunk on Xanax and beer anyway. Next morning at the check-in counter, I was so spaced out that I'd forgotten, my wallet (including ID), a package for my sister, and an entire suitcase. ON the drive home, with my grandmother muttering something about me being "on drugs", I just remember feeling like such a dumbass. I feel a little bit like that now.

2002-05-29T06:44:00.000-07:00

Budget be damned, I went to Puerto Rico this weekend. PR was crazy. I knew that a lot of people were supposed to fly in for Memorial Day, but I had no idea. I don't know how, I don't know why, but PR is the spot for the brothers on Memorial Day. I have never seen that many fine, gay black men in one place. And when I say fine, I mean the type of goodlooking that you fear might cuase your head to tilt and your tounge to involuntarily roll out of your mouth. I'm in my mid-twenties, so I knew they existed, I've just never witnessed them in masse. When I was a growing up, it seemed that there were only two gay black men on the island, a drag queen named Champagne, and Rickii, a pre-op transexual hairdresser who held the dubious honor of introducing the hair extension to Caribbean women. Everytime I'd pass them in the street I'd hold in my breath and do my best to observe as much as possible without being noticed. As far as I could tell, they were the only ones, and therefore I figured it would only be matter of time before I picked up a bottle of relaxer and began to spend my afternoons figuring out ways to catch up on One Life to Live. I saw my future as confined to either a hair salon or a clothing boutique. It feels horrible to write this, but it's basically the way I thought untill I was about seventeen. I never realized that you could be body-checking someone on the basketball court, and still have a hankering to suck cock. The two seemed to be polarized against each other. This isn't even to say that I'm that kind of straight -acting guy, becuase I've realized that's a kind of bullshit stereotype too. It was just really nice to have a couple of conversations with some beautiful, intelligent stable black gay men and realize yet again that you really do define your own reality. That, and a threesome with an Egyptian chap and his Puerto Rican host, were the highlights of the trip.

Oh, and just for clarification, Ex means exclude that motherf*cker from all aspects of your life.

2002-05-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

oh yeah... I saw Spider-Man last night. WTF ??? How did this movie make such a stupendous amount of money. I like Tobey Maguire's ass as much as the next guy, but 114 million in three days ? There were rumblings on the net to suggest that it wasn't going to be as good as I hoped, but I tried to ignore them. I like to think of myself as a movie buff, and one day I'm going to make my living off of films, but I can't for the life of me understand the Spider-man phenomenon. It was poorly written, the acting was mediocre, and honestly, though it's a convenient way to get around, web-slingling looks like it would induce endless muscle aches, and at the very least, motion sickness. Overall, it was ok, but I wish I understood how it broke all those records.

2002-05-24T06:23:00.000-07:00

Three day weekend coming up. I'm itching to get off this rock, but there are some things to consider. I'm planning a move in the Fall, and in order to finance it was going to start a very strict budget in June. All purchases (food, movies, socializing, etc...) will be limited to $100 per paycheck, in order that all other funds will be devoted to the Moving fund. However, the best thing about a self-induced cash drought, is the spending bonanza that precedes it. One last hurrah, if you will. Originally, before plans changed, I was going to go to Puerto Rico with Lex and spend the weekend whoring. However, Lex decided against the trip (which sucks in nine different ways, only one of them connected with the trip) and I can't afford to do it alone. The dilemma (for the next eight hours at least) is should I go on the trip and risk being behind on my bills, (but sexually and socially sated) or, should I stay home and suspend the trip for another couple months... or just cancel it all together. Staying home feels like the textbook answer.

Yet again, I'm facing one of the central debates in my life ; fun or responsibility. I need a little break (that's my story and I'm sticking to it), but is this the right way to do it ? This is one of theareas where maturity comes in. I'm getting older, and I don't think I get trapped in some of the bullshit that held me up in my late teens and early twenties. In some respects, I actually do know better. But what's the point of knowing better if you pretend that you don't ? Deep down, I know the correct choice to make, but it stinks. Maturity stinks. Lex stinks. Staying home while only miles away there are thousands of gorgeous, easy latin boys on the make.... stinks. [sigh]

2002-05-13T07:38:00.000-07:00

OK... pretty eventful eight days. Though I just heard a story that has makes last week seem tame, despite the very empowering feelings it produced, and kind of skews the point of this blog. In fact, the weight of this story and the characters involved have completely taken me away from any previous desire I had to actually do work (though, to be honest, it doesn't take much). It's just the kind of surprising tale that makes one chainsmoke, if only to give your brain time to process it. But first... (and more importantly), a little bit about Lauryn Hill (God bless her).

Last week I saw (or more appropriately witnessed) the Lauryn Hill MTV Unplugged special. I love Lauryn. Despite the fact that she said a couple of stupid thoughtless things when she was younger, the good by far outweighs the bad, and I think she's a star. I don't mean Star in the Tom Cruise/Mariah Carey variety of stardom, I mean that she's a beam of hot light that brightens what can be a overcast and cloudy journey. A beacon if you will. The special was mainly just Lauryn sitting with a guitar and trying to clue us all into what's going on with her. There are so many things I could say about her performance, but suffice it to say that I was humbled and inspired by her honesty and bravery. I aspire to be that open in my dealings, even if it means potentially being misconstrued as an ass, or worse yet (by American standards at least) weak. She bawled for a love that wasn't working out, she railed against a corrupt and overwrought judicial system, and most of all, she allowed us to look straight through her ribcage and observe her heart, beat by beat. Naked and raw, she imparted the simple wisdoms that we all tend to forget. It's sad that's it's so easy to get so wrapped up in the going-on's of your own life that you forget that you're just one person out of about seven or eight billion. We're all going through the same shit, just separated by time and space ;the same insecurities, the same struggle for balance and truth, the same daily anchoring of mind and soul. Some of us just handle it better than others.

I saw the special last Saturday, and I just remember feeling so lucky to have witnessed it. This is what f_cking role modes should be; people who are brave enough to chart the scary more winding routes for you, so you don't have to flail around alone. Basically, ain't nothing wrong with being confused and afraid, so long as you answer the challenge it offers. Face those f_cking fears. Who are we to not re-define ourselves ? Who are we to not evolve ? Even if the process is unsettling to those who think they know us best, it's a necessary part of life. Anything that doesn't change, is dead. Take a moment and wrap your head around it... if you don't change, you're dead. I wish I could bring it through to you, and clearly as it came to me. The very nature of life is change. So... with this knowledge in hand, I embarked upon my week. And though there are some things I wish had gone differently, I don't regret a minute.

Over the course of the week, I wrote my first song, came out to some long-time (though still peripheral) friends, made a date with a long standing crush, rekindled an old flame, had a potentially friendship ending (though much needed) argument with my first bonafide boyfriend, and realized that I'm not the center of the universe (ain't it great).

Now as for that aforementioned story..., it involves an orgy with some of the best looking, surprisingly bisexual (didn't have a clue), eligible bachelors on island. It all went down about two hours AFTER I left the party. This might be the sex addict speaking, but I can't help feeling like I missed out. On the one hand, I'm not really up for a lot of the regret that comes with insecure straight boys (they always end up blaming you, and really, who has the time ?). But, DAMN!!! there was like six of em', and trust me they've run through my fantasies enough to guest star in my reality at least once. We'll see what the future brings on this.

2002-04-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

First of all, Danny & Oswald ROCK! F-ucking rock! ... but more on that later.

I just wanted to take a second and clarify how i feel about my departure (or rather pause) from the blogging world. About a year ago, I was contemplating tearing off my clothes and run screaming from my office, when I opted to just surf and maybe chat with some boys instead. I came across this guy, and through his blog and links spent the whole day marveling at how open and generous people could be. At first, I blog surfed just to get my head off of this island and see that somewhere on the planet there were stable, happy gay people ; to find some reality instead of the stupidity I'd witnessed in West Hollywood, and the outright bullshit that was projected on gay people at home. Gradually I developed a genuine fondness for some of the bloggers and appreciated that they were willing to share what it was like to be a happily coupled real estate magnate in new orleans , or a sweetheart of a record exec in LA , or a post-rave pre-family seattilite who still found time to dance (and a host of others, but i'm too lazy to update my links). I kind of felt that if they could take the time to post about all of the good, bad, and sometimes ugly things in their lives... than maybe I could too. I mean honestly, we're all here to love right ? And if four or five lines a day could bring some stranger across the globe the same happiness I felt when I quietly listened in on the lives of bloggers, wouldn't that be kind of cool?

Of course, there was also some ego involved (teensy bit, wee i tell ya), but mainly I figured that at best, I could make some chat buddies and maybe even a few friends, and at worst I'd cheat my job out of a few pennies worth of time (ok dollars, hundreds and hundreds of dollars) that I would've just wasted some other way. But having done it for a while, the best thing is having been able to share what it felt like to be in this year of my life, and kind of define where I want to be next year through that. Sounds a little sappy, but whatever. I hope that i gave a little back of what I got, and after I think about it, i'll probably be back to give some more.

Now, as for team Cha-Cha-Cha..., last night while I was waiting for J'ouvert to start (it's Carnival time here) I stopped to watch the Amazing Race on TV. Now, I've always been opposed to The Amazing Race, becuase it's produced by Jerry Bruckheimer, and I feel he's swindled me out of enough money already, and it's downright evil of him to now invade the already crap-infested waters of television. However, watching D&O outwit, outplay, and out-class the rest of the competitors on last nights show more than made up for that ten bucks i blew on Armageddon in '99.

Picture this, it's a race around the world with no sleep, no accomodations, and four other teams breathing down your neck... With possible elimination on the line, D&O seperated from the pack, brushed of alll the bullshit and had a good old time. While the other teams were fighting like rats in a barrel for a spot on a flight out of Hong Kong, D&O had booked an earlier plane through an agent and were shopping at Gucci. Smart. And better than that, cool and level headed, and looking like they were having the best time ever. Love em, love the hat, love the shoes, love the whole damn thing. If I'd been able to see more gay people like them when I was younger, I'dve gotten over the whole boy/boy thing years ago. In fact, I'll go so far to say that just watching them a little bit eased me into the most comfortable feeling about myself. Some might think it silly to base so much on TV, but I'll be damned if I wasn't smiling throughout the whole two hours.

oh..., and gary..., thanks :)

2002-04-23T06:26:00.000-07:00

Well, after practically no thought, I've decided that this just might be my last post. I never quite got the hang of stopping in, dropping off some intresting tidbit, and flitting away without revealing too much, and yet not too little. Maybe it's that I only post at work, and therefore feel limited, maybe it's just that i'm a boring motherfucker..., or maybe it's just that i kind of looked at blogging like a fiber optic high school, only with cooler kids, and never fully realized that high school is long since over. So.... I think this might be it, for now at least. I like the idea of blogging, but I'm not sure if this is the best way for me to concentrate my energy right now. So, to that one reader I had, so long... I'll be back, but i can't guarantee that it'll be soon. :)

2002-03-25T07:05:00.000-08:00

Last night after a very disappointing tea dance, I decided that it was better to live, than sit around watching the Oscars, and made myself go back out and survey the scene at SIN (actually, it's Service Industry Night, but around these parts, that's very much the controversial title for a party). The cool/shitty thing about SIN, is that it goes from 11pm -5am on Sunday night, which pretty much insures that all of the people in attendance want to party, but also insures that my tired ass will never be able to fully take advantage of it. Anyway, it was still early and there were only about six people on the dance floor, two skinny chicks in strappy backless shirts who were rock star-ing it for the evening, this guy I met a couple of weeks ago named Hector who was kind enough to buy me a couple of drinks, an anorexic chick who kept giving me eyes, her clueless date, and me. The music was old, but well mixed cream-of-the-crop old, and the vibe was decent (a little funky, but the aforementioned music made up for it). Somewhere between "sing it back" and "gifted people", the straps on skinny girl #1's oh-so sexy backless shirt decided to randomly go on strike, and suddenly there were nipples on the dance floor. The unexpected nippleage was followed by about six minutes of tandem knot-tying between girls 1 & 2, and another six minutes of recovery on the wall, for the unexpected embarrassment. Now me, being the conscientious gay man that I am, and intimately acquainted with public embarrassment, figured that it would be really good of me to say something sweet, to assuage any feelings of self-consciousness this girl may have been feeling, and return her to the dance floor. Flashing my best benign-gay guy smile, I walked up to her and whispered in her ear "Don't let unreliable clothing keep you off the dance floor" to which she hurriedly explained that she was just resting and gave me a look reserved for dirty old men and people who let their dog shit in front of your building and don't clean it up. Now admittedly, sometimes I aim for sweet, and land at snarky ...., but was that a completely misguided comment ?

On other fronts, I was kind of disheartened when getting my morning blog on to read about Steven from the Real World's arrest for car theft and prostitution. OK, just for clarification, Steven is an ass, in fact Steven is so completely f*cked in the head, that to call him an ass is to disgrace the entire sexless population of donkeys. But..., having observed his obvious closet-rash on the Real World, and knowing what that's like, I can't help but feel a little sorry for him. I mean, apart from Bilou (who attempted to pitch herself out of a ten-story window during Road Rules Europe), Steven is the most painfully insecure & mentally unstable cast member they've produced. That being said, having ISSUES dosen't give you license to be a complete idiot. I'm a big believer in karma, and I hope he's burning off a couple pounds during this particular cycle of world wide humiliation. Ending up stealing cars in between your busy ass-selling schedule is not exactly my idea of a happy life. Not that I have anything against hustling, it's just that I've seen the workplace on the end of Santa Monica Blvd., and that shit doesn't look easy. In light of this new information, I can almost forgive him for being such a cranky bastard during the RW/RW Challenge. I think it was hard for most of us to deal with being gay. I'm just happy, that my tendency towards procrastination was in full effect during the summer of 97, when I was itching to be on that stoopid show, and I never got the tape in the mail. Otherwise, I too could've had the pleasure of going through all of those extremely personal and trying changes on TV.

2002-03-22T08:54:00.000-08:00

A couple of months ago Janet released "Someone to call my lover" I loved the song instantly, and was a little surprised that it didn't make her more money. I don't know how it made other people feel, but for me... it was that rare pop song that perfctly captured my mood. Depsite the upbeat tempo, it encapsulated the quiet, complacent, melancholy that I felt about the entire dating scene. I mean, who are any of us kidding, we'll never meet that perfect guy at a bar or a club, and deep down inside, we know it. But does that stop me from trying damn near every weekend, noooo. To me the song has always had this sad undertone to it. Not BAMBI-GETS-HIT-BY-SIXTEEN-WHEELER sad, just the kind of long sigh one gives when you pass by an unrequited crush, or hug an ex who almost meshed with you, but didn't work out anyway. Anyway, that's my mood right now. Optimistic, despite the situation.

Plus I'm a little bummed that I missed out on this, I already had a playlist in my head and everything.

2002-03-21T05:36:00.000-08:00

[stetching and yawning in a most catlike fashion]

Well, I never made it to Atlanta, I ended up slutting through Philly and New York. I haven't posted in forever becuase I was a big enough whore that I wasn't sure I wanted to blog about it, and then I got over myself. Luckily, the details of my debauchery have blurred into one giant puddle, of which I can only remember a couple of towels, an unintelligible Irish bloke, and a 3hr. wait in a San Francisico free clinic. But it was definitely fun (well, most of it at least).

2002-02-09T09:50:00.000-08:00

Going to Atlanta in 2 hrs. It's just going to be a quick family/shopping trip. Mainly just getting off of this rock and making sure i don't bump into anyone I don't want to see, or who might not want to see me. Plus, I'll be heading to a city with enough gay men that I might actually get a chance to flirt a little. Depending on how loud my inner slut is yelling (usually he's wailing at aRobert Plant-like pitch), maybe even a little more,. Anyway, if like the one person who happens to read this blog, just happens to live in Atlanta, and just happens to feel like meeting a somewhat happy, caribbean transplant, with a nice smile and good hygiene for coffee.... email me. Actually, email me regardless of where you live, cuase i'd love to hear from you. Bueller...., Frye..., Bueller....

2002-02-06T05:21:00.000-08:00

Well...., I broke up with Lex last night. On a plaid sheet, with his back before me, we hammered out some simple truths that neither of us wanted to accept. An imbalance of affection was developing, and better to stop now, when it's still just affection and not something more painful. I don't know how to feel about things. I like Lex a lot, but i don't think I could ever be in love with him, and (deservedly so) he sought to remove himself from such a scenario.

As we had sex for what may be the last time, it felt good to hold him. Better than it had the first time we slept together, and better than the most recent time. His back was hot as it curved against my stomach, and felt good against my body. Even his lips tasted good, despite the two day stubble that scratched my cheeks and tickled my chin and neck. It felt good waking up and finding him still nuzzled in my chest. Of course, I've never been in love before, so what do i know..... The whole thing is like the bizarro version of the way things should work. One moment we're rolling around mock arguing and tickling each other, and the next, the bed is poisoned with ominous statements that you can't back down from. Questions are asked that you don't really want answered, someone gets hurt.... I'm trying to write this and find some poetic way to convey it all, but the truth is, it's all a muddle. I've always felt that if you like someone, but don't love them, than you should bow out and let them move on. If you're not with the person you're going to be with for the rest of your life, than you're wasting your time. But with Lex, despite the obivous karmically correct choice, I wanted to wait it out a little longer..... Just in case I was wrong.

I don't know..., we only went out for two months right ?..., even if he was my first bonafide boyrfriend. I'm not going to bullshit like I'm heart-broken or anything..., but it sucks. Even if it is for the best, it still sucks.

2002-01-29T07:41:00.000-08:00

Such a weird mood today. My car (which I share with my brother and sister), is going to require $200 or so bucks to get fixed. Lex gave me a lift to work today, but that felt kind of weird too. When I got into work, I checked my email and someone sent me an email about a book I sent them, which kind of just left me feeling again,...a little weird (which is mainly a me problem, but whatever). I just feel like .... I've been soaked in bleach and overdried, and everything that was once intresting and different is now just some washed out version of what's in the Macy's window. No longer fresh, just derivative and redundant.

Sinead O'Connor titled some long ago album "I do not want, what I haven't got". I've always loved that title. It just spoke to me. Or rather, about how the ideal version of myself would be. To just walk down the street and not be concerned about the things I couldn't afford, or the graces I lacked, or the various inadequacies that I see in myself. Can you dig it ? Just to feel completely content with the stink of your own shit, and thereby realize that you are the Shit. No covetous glances, no longing stares at passing automobiles, just a warm "yes" humming in the background of your esteem. I'm better at it now than I was ten years ago, and imagine that ten years from now I'll be closer still..., it just seems sometimes, that it's such a long road.

in the midst of a funky mood.....

2002-01-28T10:44:00.000-08:00

It's odd. I started this post to detail the hi-jinks that ensued after Lex and I went for Chinese last night, (and the noxious gas the szechuan snapper produced, we're talking straight past broccoli, and right into cauliflower here folks), but the last six-odd posts are all Lex related and that seems downright chicken-headed. So..., instead we're going to talk about..., the evil masquerading in a bunny suit that is Queer As Folk.

Actually, QAF isn't really worth four full sentences of commentary. The plotlines are steaming heaps of shite, the characters are poorly developed (and Gale Harold, you might be on the cute side, but that's no excuse for the way you mangle the already shitty lines), and the whole show usually just depresses me after viewing. There was a time when I longed for the day that I'd be part of gay society and be able to mingle in an exclusively homosexual element. But if it's anything like QAF, I'll take isolation in the Caribbean. There has to be more to gay society than a bunch of cottage West Hollywoods, spread all across the land. I know it's just one depiction of how it goes down, but does it have to be so bad ?. Anyway, that's enough griping.

2002-01-22T06:21:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, MLK day, Lex and I took the rare oppurtunity of a shared day off to go to a neighboring island and just get into each other. We hiked through the bush and beneath a light and completely non-annoying rain, talked about past lovers, and future plans. We made it to the beach, which was about 75 yards of bright white sand, curved in a crescent with rock out-croppings on either end. The water was perfectly clear and where the sand met the surf, there was a flickering stripe of gilded teal as the waves made their final, gentle break against the shore. The beach was small, and populated primarily by other gay men, so we could kind of frolic and be silly. God...this sounds so damned sappy. I mean, it was..., but it was more fun too.

After staying at the beach untill our fingers were pruned and Lex was as tan as he was going to get, we walked back to town and had the best surprise Italian dinner at a bistro called Roma's. It was the kind of eclectic cafe where none of the tables have the same chairs, and there are kids running in and out of the kitchen. All in all, it was a pretty good day. The longest time I've ever spent with lex in one sitting, and definately the most time I've spent with him outside of his apartment.

2002-01-18T06:17:00.000-08:00

I started this post to bitch about a co-worker who had shamelessly attempted to manipulate me through flattery (which makes me feel like an asshole, and you look like an idiot since we both know you're about as sincere as Puffy on the witness stand)... but as I was typing I looked down and noticed a teeny tiny spider crawling up my forearm. Small and fragile and completely harmless. It was just really, really cute (and I'm not a cutesy-wutesy type of person). A lot of people are weirded out by spiders, but this one was so tiny (it must have just hatched or something) and had this whole "new to the world" air about him that I think he could've cured an arachnophobe. I like how God keeps surprising you. How the unexpectedness of the spider just settled my whole spine and pushed me into an entirely different emotion.

Plus, I'm listening to "As You Are" by Travis, which is just lush and beautiful, and were I not in the confines of this drab little office, I'd definitely sing aloud to.

2002-01-16T12:19:00.000-08:00

After a lengthy waiting process, .... it appears that my mutant powers will never kick in. It's safe to say that I'll never be able to phase through walls, levitate, or hurl the occasional fireball. I realized this today when my repeated efforts to make a co-workers head explode failed. Wouldn't it be nice to be a mutant though... (we're think of the non-disfigured variety here). Wouldn't it be nice to be telepathic. Actually, given my tendency towards overthinking everything, telekinesis would probably suit me much better. If you could have any mutant power, what would it be ?

2002-01-16T05:14:00.000-08:00

Damn Them. Damn. Them. Damn the twin evil programming geniuses that are Bunim/Murray. Damn them because once again, they've roped me. Like Whitney Houston on a crack rock, they've found my teat and I'm helpless but to suck. I'd already decided that I wasn't even going to follow this season's Real World because

A. I don't have the time,
B. It's actually one steaming heap of bullshit, and they completely exploit the cast (did you see the rocks on Bunim's chain in last year's casting special.... hello),
C. It's too involved to even resemble reality,
D. Drama wise, you just can't top RW8 Hawaii (Ruthie rocks my world, drunk or sober),
E. They always find a way to pick the most moronic black people (I know with 40,000 applicants they could of came of up with someone better than the guy they got this year).

This being said, I was planning to sidestep the whole bloody thing. But sure enough come 10:30 I'm sitting their in front of the TV like the boob that I am. I could've actually turned it off, were it not for the lure of Chris the new gay guy. He hasn't decided to come out to the rest of the cast, and he has no specific reason not too, and I can relate to that. Even though at 25, I feel that I'm way past my acceptable age to be still in the closet. But it was when they cornered him in the pool and asked what was special about him. How about a hand for good editing. There are six shots at once all zooming in on him..., it gives him the most adorable dear-in-headlights look. A look that says "this is the best possible time to spill it all, but I know I can't make my mouth comply". And there, in a nutshell, was how they got me. Maybe it's the shared perspective, or maybe it's the freshly scrubbed, babe returning to the woods look that seems etched on his face (OK, he's gorgeous, but that's really a given since this is a Bunim/Murray show)..., but basically I think I'll be wasting plenty of the time at MTV (they really are evil, but I love them) in the near future.

2001-12-23T10:04:00.000-08:00

HI. Sorry for the long absence. Server problems have kept me off line for the better part of the last two weeks (on the upside, I've never been so productive at work... I actually had to start slowing down before people realized why we were mysteriously ahead of schedule).

I was just about to bop out the door, when I felt the tight new wifebeater that Lex bought me for Christmas, gripping my stomach snuggly. For Christmas he gave me a 3-pack of wifebeaters, and some tommy underware and socks. Just the right gift for a three week extended fling that feels a lot like a relationship [ :) ] Not that I'm Pip or anything, but I've never actually bought any wifebeaters for myself. They've usually been approximated from my brother after he's already stretched them out to accomodate his larger frame. So this is perhaps the first set of fresh ones ever to grace my chest. They're so tight and comfy that they make me look kinda buff (plus fasting for Ramadan has kind of brought on that Somalia look that's oh-so-fashionable these days). So I just wanted to take a moment to remind myself how pleasant it is to be liked by a boy. How completely great it is to have some reciprocal loving. I'll probably muck it up in the next couple of months (I can already feel the grumblings), but for now, I'm one-day-at-a-time-ing it, and it sure feels nice (actually, nice is reserved for well laid cement, and the behavioir of children..., it feels more like the inside of a cheesecake, soft and sweet and rich and creamy).

I like him.

2001-12-09T10:33:00.000-08:00

Things are rolling right along. Lex is a riddle, though he's showing some peculiar personality traits. For example..., I slept over last night and he agreed to wake me up at 5:30. At 6:15 he nonchalantly rolls over and says, "it's 6:15 you'd better go".. "Didn't you set the alarm for 5:30" I asked..., no comment from him. I asked again, still no comment. Now you know, maybe I'm just an ass..., but if you know someone's trying to avoid an interrogation, and get home in time to eat and drink the only food and water they'll have for the next 12 hours... wouldn't you at least admit that you hit snooze. I'm wasn't asking for an apology or anything..., but a response would've been nice.

But aside from that, he's perhaps the easiest man to sleep with on the planet. Which brings in the question... is he easy to sleep with, or are we compatible ? And if we're compatible than why am I quibbling over grumpy-morning-muteness ?

I didn't think I was a snuggler until I met him. But, nose beneath chin, finger against cheek... contented and calm we slept through the night. If I hadn't gotten so flummoxed on the departure, we could've had a little morning sex... but there's always tomorrow.

2001-12-06T07:28:00.000-08:00

Something is happening. I don't know exactly what, and I'm not sure how... but something is definitely happening. I'm don't know where to begin becuase I feel like you should already know. But..., Lex, (the boy we met last weekend), is definitely occupying more space in my picture. Last night I slept with him and slowly began to understand why some people refuse to trick. I began to understand why some people only want to have sex with one person. These are intresting revelations. I've been having sex with guys for almost ten years, but this is the first time I've ever felt like this one should be just for me. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I've never had sex with guys who I wanted to see again, or have relationships with... it's just I've never felt that they should only have sex with me, or I with them. I've kind of had a real slutty outlook on the whole monogamy thing. But this is... virgin territory.

2001-12-04T10:30:00.000-08:00

Feeling Good

Anthony Newley, Leslie Bricusse
sung by Nina Simone

Birds flying high you know how I feel
Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Reeds driftin' on by you know how I feel

(refrain:)
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

Fish in the sea you know how I feel
River running free you know how I feel
Blossom in the tree you know how I feel

(refrain)

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean
Sleep in peace when day is done
That's what I mean

And this old world is a new world
And a bold world
For me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel
Scent of the pine you know how I feel
Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

2001-12-03T06:52:00.000-08:00

Why do we come to work ? There must be some better way to earn money. I'm not against the idea of putting effort into something you love, and laboring for the result... but this idiot process of punching time cards and signing off on documents has got to go. It's mundane. I wish I had the courage to rise from my chair, rip off my shirt and run screaming from the building. I think, no wait, I KNOW I'd be better off. It'd be a bitch to find another "job", but one can only guess how much that would do for my soul.

2001-12-03T05:15:00.000-08:00

Intresting weekend. I met a boy and ended up at his house twice. He's neat, and I'm going to do my best not to let myself spoil it.

I'm a little bummed that I didn't get any email about my W.A.D. post. I didn't put it up for response, but I wouldn't have minded getting one or two. Admittedly, it's crappy writing, but it was such a surprise to realise how difficult it would be to write. Eventually, I''m going to write it over and do it the justice it deserves.

2001-12-01T09:37:00.000-08:00

This is harder than I thought. Originally, I thought I'd just sit in front of the computer and the words would sail out of my fingers as they normally do. But I can't. Talking about the death of my my father, and the decimation of my nuclear unit, is more difficult than I expected.

I wanted to put this up on Friday, so it would have a full 24 hrs. of AIDS day to affect someone, but every time I sat to type, I found a reason not to. SO, as quickly and bluntly as possible, my father died of AIDS on May 20th, 1989. I've been thinking about how to convey this to you for two weeks, and after much procrastination, I've realized that I'm just not ready to deal with it yet. I looked though a box of recently relocated pictures this morning, trying to condense the swirl of emotions I have concerning my fathers death. And sitting here right now, the best I can say is that I have maybe 35 pictures of the man who gave me half of my genetic code. 35. And that's about it. 35 scraps of bent, glossy paper are all I have left to establish the memory of the man responsible for my long torso, and kinky hair. 35 pictures and a few scattered memories are all i have of my children's grandfather.

My father was the sun in the morning. He was beloved by all who met him. He went to the old folks home and talked to the people who didn't have any one. He stood up to the crackheads and pimps who dared sit on his stoop in Harlem. He sent his parents on a trip to China for their birthday. He arrived in Berkeley with a sock full of quarters and left with a degree in medicine. He was the stuff of legends, and that's all I have left of him. I used to play "what if" and speculate about how my life would have changed had not he died. When I couldn't get to sleep, I'd stare at the sealing, and allow images of my other life to dance across it. I stopped eventually because it never helped me get to sleep, and only made me more restless. I miss my father today at 25 as much as I did when I was 12.

It's tragic because I never got to talk to my father as a man. I barely got to talk to him as a boy. He died when I was 12, and hadn't fully realised the one thing that he and I alone shared. I feel robbed, and more than a little bitter. Especially when his death could have been prevented by a .99¢ piece of plastic. It's tragic, and it's tragic because it's completely unnecessary.

2001-11-28T06:02:00.000-08:00

I'm lucky. Before my mom died, we got to spend a year together in which we pretty much disclosed everything that we couldn't when I was a child. For this, I'm think I'm pretty unique. Back then I was bi, now I'm gay... but basically, my mom could see it in the cards and after the initial shock, was pretty cool about it. I told he I was bi when I was 18 or 19, but I always knew she'd be cool about it so it wasn't really like coming out. So now, I've got in my head that the only way I'm going to have some type of lasting happiness is going to be coming out to everyone..., including my grandmother. This is where our current dilemma begins. I've been living with my Granma for about two years (my grandfather had a stroke and she asked me to come back). IN that time, I haven't gone out on one date, or even recieved calls from girls (other than the ones I've known form high school, that she already knows)... so she's gotta know something is up. But, given that the tide of denial is strong, she's allowed herself to believe that I'm choosey (she's right actually, it's just that I only choose the ones with dicks... ) So now, despite my desire to just reveal the truth, I'm worried about how that's going to affect an 84 yr. old woman. She doesn't even understand homosexuality, she thinks it's some kind of spell that you get put under, kind of like a hex or something So the question is, do i tell her for my own selfish reasons regardless of what the truth might do to her, or do i not tell her for my own selfish reasons, and remain in the false security of the closet ?

2001-11-26T06:23:00.000-08:00

I'm starting Ramadan today (yeah I know I'm about 9 days late, but it's between me and God, thank-you-very-much). I'm getting off to a late start this year. I'd like to excuse it all on the arrival of my brother, and the necessary celebration that followed, but I don't really have too much of an excuse.

Ramadan is held according to the lunar calendar, which means that the start date fluctuates from year to year. Sometimes it's around Christmas, other thimes it's way off in February. Late Ramadans are the best, becuase the days are shorter and if you plan correctly, you can sleep through most of the sunlight hours. I hate it when Ramadan falls during the holidays, though it's a lot easier to fast as an adult than it was to fast when I was in high school. In high school, not only did I have the added joy of hearing about everyone elses Christmas gifts (which is a holiday Muslims don't celebrate by the way), but then I had a whole Christmas break to kill while not eating, drinking, or thinking about sex. It's a wonder I'm not more fu..., (oh yeah, you're not supposed to curse either) screwed up. It's not as tough now. The not-eating-food-thing, a snap since I forget to eat half the time anyway...., the no-drinking-water-thing, not too tough though by five pm you're parched, it's the not-thinking-about-sex-thing... that's a toughie. Try to not think about sex for five minutes ..., not that easy is it.

Anyway, when we were kids, my Mom used to forbid listening to music or watching TV during the fast (daylight hours only, for you folks who don't know too much about fasting). Apparently that was just a little added torture, since I checked up on the requirements and it doesn't list either as fast-breakers. Thank God for small favors. I don't know how I'd make it through work without my headphones.

The point of Ramadan, for those of you who think it's an affectation of some dinky little terrorism-inclined religion, is to take a little time out and focus on your relationship with God. All the time that you would spend procuring the things that give you pleasure and sustainance (food and sex), is re-directed towards God, so you can think about your place in his world, and the state of your life. At least, that's the way I've always understood it, though I'm not exactly the worlds best muslim (they've got this pesky no-cock-sucking rule). If anyone has any questions at all, I'll do my best to answer them.

2001-11-23T05:02:00.000-08:00

I hope everyone enjoyed their Thanksgiving festivities. My family had splintered into not one, but three seperate dinners... which wasn't so bad, except that I ended up going to the one with the crappy food. I called James last night and Jaimz was there, which was a good surprise. She's going to Paris on Monday. How nutty is that ? On the one hand I'm proud of my friend who can travel across the globe without knowing one Parisian, she kicks ass.... on the other hand, I hope she's ok, and that nothing happens to her.

James was trying to convince me to come back to LA. I was so happy to have someone want me so empatically that for a minute it seemed like the clear and obvious choice. The truth is, within a week, I'd feel like crap again, and within a month, we'd be sick of each other. I'd be exactly where I was two years ago, and what's the point in that ?

I wish, that I could just be pleased with myself.

2001-11-21T10:48:00.000-08:00

Missed most of the Thanksgiving lunch, but that's ok becuase last year the macaroni tasted like paste, and the turkey needed to be rehydrated. It's just as well... My brother's back on island, and that's really cool becuase he's got all of this good energy. I'm hoping that I'll get caught up in it. I'm hoping that it'll lift me right out of the funk I've been in.

2001-11-19T07:37:00.000-08:00

just read ariel's birthday revelation..., and it kind of kick's the pants off mine...

2001-11-19T06:48:00.000-08:00

A pretty good blogger, (who i don't know, but wouldn't mind knowing) has requested a personal tidbit in lieu of an actual birthday gift. Something I ordinarilly wouldn't reveal... so I'll try, but mind you, I'm a pretty upfront person so finding said tidbit might be a little tough.

.... I've got three nipples (the third one's kind of cute actually, it's so odd-looking, it 180's from hideous to endearing), and during my brief high school football period I was nicknamed "trips". But that's not terribly shocking or revelatory, it's just weird.

.... I've had sex with about 50 men, but only had one boyfriend. And let's face it, that's not shocking either, it's just sad.

.... I know a guy who claims to have had sex with Ricky Martin, but that's neither here nor there (wouldn't it be nice if this wasn't just a tease, and actually a story detailing a hump and bump with our favorite latin closet case).

.... I sent Philo a book after I read of his awful day. Now, that would've come out eventually, but since it hasn't yet I guess it will do. It's not really shocking or anything, but it might be just enough to bring about a smile... and that's the purpose of this right.

Anyway, happy 30th birthday Choire.

2001-11-18T00:19:00.001-08:00

It's saturday night, and while I'm killing time waiting for what's supposed to be the meteor shower of the millenium, I figured I'd blog. Or rather... the club yielded no prospects, and I still haven't accepted it, so now I'm typing before surrendering this night. I've been thinking abouth this blog, and about how accurately I want it to depict my mood and emotions. If I'm completely truthful, and I want to be in case someone else hapens upon this page and can relate (and thereby not feel like a complete lunatic, as I sometimes do), things may take a rather bleak turn. Not like I'm saving up sleeping pills or anything, just that I'm very frequently depressed, and that might be hard for some people to read. Or rather, hard for me to type. I don't really know waht I want this blog to be, and that kind of hinders my use of it.

2001-11-18T00:19:00.000-08:00

2001-11-15T10:25:00.000-08:00

While I was wandering at work today, I was reminded of Unravel by a random post. Below are lyrics to Unravel, which is one the sweetest songs on earth. I'm weird about Bjork..., were I going to go stalker, she'd probably be the one I'd pick. Half the time I don't even know what she means, but it connects with me nonetheless, and gains it's own meaning. This particular song is about being apart from your mate. In the chorus she sings "he'll never return it", but with her Icelandic lilt, it sounds like "memory torments" which is so fitting becuase that's just how being away from your sweetie is. The thought of what you could be doing were they here, the memory of what once was and now isn't. Torment. I haven't figured out how to link up a song yet (working on it), so I can't upload Unravel... but you're probably just wasting time anyway, so you might as well try and download it from somewhere.

while you are away
my heart comes undone
slowly unravels
in a ball of yarn
the devil collects it
with a grin
our love
in a ball of yarn

he'll never return it

so when you come back
we'll have to make new love

2001-11-15T07:09:00.000-08:00

Sometimes when I'm online, and whittling away at the time I'm supposed to be here, I got to places I probably shouldn't. Places that were they known, would crack the closet door a little wider than I'm prepared to accept... actually, the closet door would be shredded, with only pressed wood clumps remaining around the hinges. But still I go. I'm usually pretty careful about it, I scan the room for the shuffling of feet or any sudden movement that might bring someone my way. I scan with the vigilance of a new mother surveiling the playground for potential molesters. Nothing gets by me... well, almost nothing. Today, around 9:50, as I was indulging my loins and perusing pictures of pretty boys... my boss crept up on me like 50 to a baby-boomer..., all of the sudden and all too soon, she was just there. No brimstone, no lightning... but my world swirled and my stomach tried to escape though my throat.

This wasn't good.

I managed to hide the Explorer window behind an Illustrator window, hoping I could ride out her visit with aimless chit-chat. But she was brandishing a disk... a disk she wanted me to open...., a disk she wanted me to minimize my window, go to the desktop, and open..., a disk she wanted me to minimize my window, go to the desktop, reveal the BULGING CROTCH of the Calvin Klein model hidden beneath, and open.

Defintely not good.

Thinking fast, I tried to work on some other things I'd put off, that she'd asked me to do earlier. Checking email and stuff... I crained my eyes to the screen hoping that if I thought it hard enough, she'd follow my psychic impulses and wander over to the water dispenser. Despite my wordless yelling, (and let me tell you, I was bellowing loud enough for Professor X to hear me) she hovered still. Waiting. I felt like I did when I was 16, and the cashier at the Newstand caught me with two Torso's and a Blueboy stuffed in my jeans. Like my world was shifting, and I was powerless against the tide of change. I felt like I was over. And yet,... when it could be avoided no longer, I clicked on the window and closed it before the screen could draw all of the image. There was no noticable sign of recognition from the boss.., no anger, no exclamation of rage, no indication of anything. She muttered her thank you's as she always does, and stalked away. The crisis had been averted, and yet I was still left with the aftermath. Butterflies still flopped against the top of my throat, my pulse could still power a sledgehammer, my eyes still were dialated to heroin like levels... and yet I survived. No angels, or beams of light protuding from the roof, but perhaps something better.

I'm actually glad for the distraction. For that rare rush of adrenaline that has proven that despite the almost comatose pace of my life, my heart beats yet. Not saying that I'm itching for my boss to catch me perving on the job..., but I felt alive for a minute. Instead of bored out of my skull like I usually do. I want some more. Maybe not with the same stakes, but some more action. Something other than what I've been doing. Something other than this semblance of a life. A life that I've been wading through, half-lidded yet cognizant. I've got to get off this island. Actually, the island isn't the problem. I've got to resist the urge to wait for things to happen. This just empasizes it, and brings it to the forefront. I'll never know if I really escaped my boss, or if she already know I'm the gayest thing in the building and is just being amazingly cool about it. I do know that it sucks that the highlight of my week is escaping near-canning for looking at naked guys, and being thrilled about it. I know I can do something about that.

2001-11-14T07:15:00.000-08:00

hey. I want to talk about GG, but the more intresting spectacle was the MJ 30th anniversary gala (I guess gala covers it, though I'm not really sure what to call it). First there was Mya and Usher in what would have been a great performance had it not emphasized how difficult it is to sing "Wanna be Starting somethin", and how mediocre their vocal talent is. Than we were treated to Whitney Houston modeling the latest in crack whore fashion. Damn Bobby Brown ! I was discussing with a friend last night if Whitney's descent is her fault, or should all be pinnned on Bobby. Ultimately we decided that Whitney's inner junkie would have found it's way out eventually, though it's sad that she doesn't realize it. It must suck to be surrounded by sycophants... how else could she have made it onto the stage in that get-up ?

I love MJ, but last night was bizarre. Through the ruins, you could still see bits of the old fire that defined his talent. I think he can't hit the notes he used too anymore, but I couldn't tell if I was wrong or if he was lip-syinching and just handling the mike weird to hide it. He can still dance his ass off, but he hasn't made any attempts to update himself, and that's why Invincible will ultimately fail.

Anyway, moving as far away from reality as possible... Can I just say that I love Paris.She has taken uptight to previously unheard of levels. That girl is wound up so tight, if you shoved a lump of coal up her ass, in two weeks... (what I'd give for another ferris movie). That girl is something special. I can't wait till she and Rory get past this pesky nemisis phase. I still don't fully understand how it began to be honest, I know it had something to do with Tristan (deliciously smarmy, and curisously absent this season). Can't wait till next week when we finally get to have some fun with Luke's nefarious nephew.

2001-11-10T14:31:00.000-08:00

Well, just got back from seeing K-Pax [spoilers ahead], which (though it discussed one of my favorite concepts... the infinite possibility and importance of light) was mediocre. I'm so sick of seeing movies about doctors with fresh perky wives, doctors who live in beautifully landscaped, tastefully furnished houses with fantasic views. Why can't we have some miserable doctors... some doctors with no fashion sense or social graces. Some doctors who fluked it through med school and keep losing tools during surgery. Yeah... that's the ticket.

Alas, this is the high point of my creativity today.

2001-11-07T12:59:00.000-08:00

blah....

2001-11-05T10:33:00.000-08:00

just to remind you .... not everyone understands house music, it's a spirtual thing, a body thing, a soul thing.

2001-11-03T09:54:00.000-08:00

Sitting here in the middle of Saturday, trying to decide whether I should catch a ride to the movies, or wait till Rick is finished doing the mysterious chore for his grandfather, and mooch a ride out of him. I don't even think there's anything cool to see, but I love being in a movie theater.

After the thrilling experience of adding links, (in the land of the easily amused, I wear a crown) I'm determined to expand this page into a full-fleshed site. I was planning to do that this afternoon, but my enthusiasm has waned a little.

2001-11-02T07:00:00.000-08:00

It's been a strange week. Jam packed with health issues, unexpected debts, exploding head gaskets, hospital visits, and a double headed pimple that just won't die. However, despite all of the crazy shit that's gone down of late.... I feel kind of good. I mean I haven't been terribly pro-active about any of the above, but I don't feel overwhelmed. Am I finally learning how to roll with the punches ? God that would be sweet. Sitting here typing this, evaluating the full magnitude of this stress-inducing week, and yet not worried in the least. yay me ! I'll have to explain all of the above later, but for right now, life is good.

2001-11-01T05:41:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the help of certain seattlite, I realized that my site doesn't have to look like ass and changed my template. I just finished adding some links, and feel a little like Bob Villa. I can't wait to start telling people about the site, I just don't have enough content yet.

2001-10-09T10:16:00.000-07:00

I just read that they're expecting an HIV vaccine in the next ten years. I guess I really should be happy, and on some level I am, but the stronger emotion is anger. I don't know if anyone else in my generation (I'm 24) feels this way, but I feel I've been screwed out of the best fucking years of my life by HIV. I was hoping maybe we could have this vaccine by my 30th birthday, when I'd still be in my supersexy prime...., but by 35, I really hope I'm not slutting around anymore.

2001-10-09T07:31:00.000-07:00

Just back from court, and it appears my procrastination has not doomed my chances at victory. Now I just have to call the process server and I should be ready to go by the 23rd. I think I love our legal system.

It's my second day back at work and it's painfully obvious that I haven't been missed. Now I figured that if I hid behind my headphones and drowned out the consistent blather of my co-workers, that eventually we'd kind of not see each other. I just didn't expect it to feel like it does. Whatever.... you can't like everybody, and sometimes, you're bound to be on the recieving end of this simple truth.

Anyway, I've got bigger fish to fry... namely, the appearance of this site. To put it mildly, it sucks. And how can I possibly have anyone over for tea when my salon is so tacky. More on this later...

2001-10-08T09:03:00.000-07:00

hello world