Thursday, November 27

Cause I need to Say it First Off...


See MILK!!! SEE IT SEE IT SEE IT SEE IT!

Except, Elizabeth. She must wait until I am home to see it with me.

Such a good movie and if after you see it you don't think Sean Penn is amazing. Or that Harvey Milk was a truly incredible man. Then you obviously are a Conservative Christian.

I balled my eyes out. BALLED!

Once again:
SEE IT SEE IT SEE IT SEE IT!

Except, Elizabeth. You don't see it until you see it with me. Deal? If I find out otherwise, you'll ruin my life.

I am Thankful for...

  • My wonderful friends (Eric and all the Jeff's I've met) who I am going to New Orleans with. Making me laugh and understanding my eccentricities. No matter how unique they may be.
  • My roommate, who has allowed me to feel comfortable in my living situation for the first time in 2.5 years. It's been a nice feeling to have her always close by, I hope she feels the same way.
  • My Ex-Husband, no matter who else he dates or if he withholds information from me. He will always have a special place in my heart and soul.
  • K, the lady who is twice my age, but loves me for me. As I love her for her.
  • My Florida Lover, who keeps me entertained for hours.
  • My Australian connection. His wisdom and smarts make me smile. His comments I always take to heart. He is a beacon of positive energy and I know whenever I am down. He will send a wonderful comment my way.
  • Jim, who lives across the country, but showed me that caring can cross these lands without any trouble.
  • Anita Morris. Patti LuPone. Judy Garland. Liza Minnelli. Betty Buckley. Barbara Cook. All those Diva's who's voices that have entertained my ears everyday for years.
  • My strength and determination. Though sometimes I am the Maid of Constant Sorrow on here. I am in a place I haven't been before, it's a good place.
  • My family who is supportive and will always love me. No matter how much of a Wayward Prince I may be to them. To my mother, father, brother and sister. I love them all, even if I don't show it all the time.
Thank you all, Happy Thanksgiving.

Monday, November 24

Snakes, Speedos and Sexuality

Tonight I snaked the toilet! For fun I wore my Red Speedo. I was feeling sexy. Not to mention the absurdity of playing around in toilet water while wearing this:

Pose much? Actually, I always stand this way.

It all seems very strange, right? But, why not put on your bathing trunks when you're about to go swimming? Oh if I could have taken a picture with the Yellow Rubber Gloves!

Now this leads me to my next point. As far as my body goes, I do believe I am in the prime of my life. I am very proud of my body, for the first time in a while. It makes me happy that when I lift my arms, abs are visible. You have to understand 4 to 6 years ago the idea of abs were a legend that I would talk about with people over firesides.

Sit back and listen as I tell you a tale. Horses that have horns are called Unicorns. Men who have goat legs are called Satyrs. People born with Abs are called Abnormals!
It was the only way I could deal with the idea that people are just BORN with 6-pack Abs. They can eat as much as they want and never lose them. Now I sort of have them [really only when I lift my arms or in the right lighting] and I'm happy with that. It's not that I don't run and lift weights at the gym. I do! So excuse me while I brag for a moment...

Bragabsbragabragsbabsbragbragbragarbabs

Okay, I'm done gloating. It's also ironic in this time. The prime of my life. I have decided to withhold my body from the touch of others. As much as looks shouldn't matter in dating and love, in the cruel reality, they do. We all want people who turn us on sexually.

The Tall Man was in great shape, but there was one night he showed me pictures of himself, when he was fatter [because you show fuckbuddies who you have no feelings for embarassing pictures of yourself when you were huge. Right? That's what I've come to understand.] So his body reflected this when examined up close. Stretchmarks, but a very flat stomach. His pectorals were well defined, but if uncared for could easily turn into man bosoms. I loved his body, more than anyone else I've met in my life [to date]. I felt hot when I was with him, because I thought his body was perfect. It obviously wasn't the textbook definition of "Hot". The abs were absent and the muscles on the body were not always all that well-defined.

When we fucked though, you could feel all the muscles working.

When I lost him, I think I mourned the loss of his body most of all. That's not that bad of a discovery. I didn't love him, I loved his body. His personality obviously needs some major improvement, though it was a decent personality, it was still a Gay New York Males Personality.

When the going gets tough, the tough calls you on the phone and feeds you bullshit.

I allowed myself to get lost for a moment. Excuse me. Yet, the outcome of that memory dive was a positive one. Positivity. A reoccurring theme this year.

Lastly, and I know you were thinking this the entire time reading. Yes, I did shower after I snaked the toilet.

Sunday, November 23

Miss Otis Regrets...

So much to not say. So little not to do. Where doth the time fly?

New Orleans, this Thursday. Back on the plane, this time heading towards the gorgeous South! Land of Plastic beads and Tennessee Williams! Oh, perhaps I should reread some 10? I sometimes long for him, I long from that time when I first read his words and felt whole new worlds opening. Beautiful and tragic. The Kingdom of Heaven does not come at an easy price!

Today has been a day of no work. Shame, shame, shame. I did discover Patti LaBelle's version of Miss Otis Regrets that has sent me giggling like a 14-year-old school girl every time I start it! You need to hear it to believe it! She turns it into a harrowing tale.
When she woke up and found that her dream of love was...GOOOOONNNNNE! Madame! She ran, she ran to the man! Who lead her astray!

And from under a black velvet gown! She drew a gun and SHOT her love down...Madame!

Miss Otis Regrets! She's unable, unable, UNABLE! To lunch...TODAY!

When the mob came and got her! And dragged her from the jail! MADAME! They strung her up! Up! UP! On the Willow across the way!
Tonight a boy I have befriended has revealed that he has feelings for me. It was straight-forward and to the point. I appreciated that, and felt warmly happy inside. I responded with, "I am all types of unstable right now. Just be my friend for now." He's young and naive and I feel that if I touched his body it would melt like a freshly fallen snowflake.

I want him to be in my life. As a friend for now. I don't know how I feel about him, but I like his friendship. That's what's important, right? To value the friendships you have before anything else. Perhaps someday I'll be able to feel that same way in return. Of course, then it will be to late and I'll realize how "Julia Roberts" my life has become.

Lastly, I leave you with various pictures of Jennifer Holliday making weird faces at the Tony Awards:

The one that got her the Tony Award:

Miss Otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.

Friday, November 21

Making Dinner Tonight

So much is changing so quickly. We now have a digital Cable box Converter. Which means that for the first time in years, I can watch TV. Right now, I have PBS on and Wishbone is playing. Wishbone! I get upset that PBS's connection is a little looser than the others. It's PBS, what can I say. Heh, loose.

Oh, and there's the Traffic Channel! A Channel that plays security cameras from various intersections. Amazing! I haven't seen a commercial in so many years, some of them hurt my brain. Or the Christian Channel! Now that one is a pisser! A lady dressed all in sequins plays the organ. Or the old man, who I am convinced is GOD, discusses the bible, "The best book that's been around for over 2000 years."

I built a coffee table out of beechwood and spit. It was quite and accomplishment and came out looking like this:

It's all those years I spent building with Legos. Look at that, I have material possessions. I have revenue! Oh, good I can go bankrupt like all the rest.

I enjoy putting things together, not necessarily building them from scratch. That's where my faults lie, and it seems to be the theme of this semester. I knew taking two classes that are about scene stuff would just destroy me. I'll get through it, worry not, I am sure I'll get through it.

I am going to New Orleans next week. I'll bring my laptop, but I'm not sure about Internet connection. I'm going there poor, but I'll not let it worry me to much. I have a little amount set back. Just means no souvenirs for anyone, a couple small things for myself and just money on food and drink.

Homework was the theme of the day, and that's what I did. Nothing exciting!

OH! Yes, the good news. There must be some good news, shouldn't there?

I have a chance to get some experience in wardrobe. It's not paid, but they will feed me! That's decent work and it's experience outside of college. So we'll see, it's networking and such. Let's work it you. This is why you're here!

I have to much homework, but I'll get it done. I think I will, maybe I won't. Maybe this is where I stop and fail? I hope not. I keep thinking about the future, what's going to become of Iguana? It's like a cry in the darkness really. No one cares to answer the cry though.

My friend has two different guys he's going back and forth between. While I am incredibly jealous, I am also very happy that he has that to worry about. Not other issues like health or moving or loneliness. I'm happy for him. I wouldn't mind just one guy giving me problems with my love life, we'll get there.

I'm making dinner for K tonight, she's back from San Francisco. Oh joy, oh rapture!

Edit: The dinner was very successful! I cooked a full mean successfully!

Thursday, November 20

Right There, In Front of Me

I was waiting on the train. Worrying a little about life. Reading On The Road and listening to The Fantasticks. There was a woman next to me, she seemed to be practicing dance moves while listening to her iPod.

The novel by Jack Kerouac is amazing. It's much better than I ever gave it credit. I wish it were still possible to bum around the country. To hitchhike. To see America. To live off 50 bucks, realistically.

I was listening to Much More from The Fantasticks and thinking about how crazy the girl is. How crazy I am. How crazy life is...

Then I noticed a small puddle coming towards my feet. My eyes quickly followed the fast forming steam to it's source. In between the woman's legs. I've never seen a person unwillingly give into the demand to urinate. I have had close calls in life, when I drink a touch more than necessary. I have pee'd on subway platforms, alone, but that's more information than anyone needs to know.

I looked at her face, since I'm perverted that way. It was a cross between humiliation and relief, which caused my heart to reach out to her. I moved away from her, I felt guilty. I couldn't pretend pee wasn't about to make close realtions with my shoe. I left her there, as subtly as I could. The relief quickly disappeared and shame was left. People began to notice something was off. As she left the subway at the next stop, hanging her head. She started to walk towards the way I moved in the subway. Without warning she did a U-Turn. She was ashamed of me fleeing, I just know it.

I felt bad for her, and hope not to many people noticed. Wherever you are, whomever you are, you should really get that checked out.

Tuesday, November 18

To Anyone Who Has Gone To College

To Anyone Who Has Gone To College:

What the fuck? I start off by asking you a simple and plain statement. What the fuck? I was led to believe that college would be the carefree years of my life. That I wouldn't have to worry about real issues until I had graduated. Whoever told me, told us, these things, lied.

Perhaps it's because I went to school in New York City. I exposed myself to soon, I became to involved. Whenever, I sit back and think about my life, it's a wonder to even myself how I did it. I didn't get four years in the middle of nowhere. It's just been on continuous journey. The friends I have now, I will not lose once I graduate. I will be in the same place I am once I graduate. I will need to find a job and see what happens from there.

There was only two years of dorm life, and two years of unadjusted "real life" living. I still get motion sickness when I think about those days. In June, there will be no packing up. There won't be any graduation parties or Senior Formals. It'll be working for a diploma and a continuation of a program already in process.

So I ask you, I ask you people who have gone to college. What the fuck? I am told all the time, "Stay in school! Stay as long as you can!"

Seriously? For real? I can't even get a loan to live comfortably. Perhaps when you went to school in the mid-90s, when they were giving out loans left and right, yes it was an easy life! I want to work with my wardrobe shop, but my college has deemed that I cant' do that by not allowing me the proper loans, because my parents are rich. It's an eternal paradox I can't seem to grasp my head around.

Oh, the complaints go on and on and on. I am okay, it's just one small thing amongst many other things.

I want normalcy. I would like some regularity, a source of income. No part time work, but focusing on a future. Call me old fashioned. I don't want AWOL apartment situations, scabies or sadness. I don't want insecurity and confusion all the time. I would like a little order. God, I am trying for order.

To those who have gone to college. Was I to hasty in my decision to come to the city? Did I cheat myself out of some experience later in life? If I had gone to school in a smaller town and learned life's lessons in simpler ways, then moved here and understood it all, would it have been easier at all?

Alas, worrying about the past cannot happen. It promotes nothing! You lived as you have lived and there's nothing that can change it! No time machine, no magic incantation, nothing!

Tonight I had dinner with a guy my age, but with less knowledge of life than I. In the ways of life, as it were. He's a sweet person to have around and makes me smile. We listened to music and I cooked for him. I told him things and he actually enjoyed hearing them.

I am in love with the idea of this guy, but I know he is far outside of my reach. I could never appreciate his naivety to it's fullest extent, I would always be tainting it somehow. He enjoys my company though, I make him laugh. I refresh him, or so he tells me.

He's so innocent and young. How am I refreshing? My character is refreshing? I sometimes don't understand what people mean? I don't view my life in terms of comedy, I see it terms of struggle more or less. When you laugh at my life, I see it for a moment as refreshing. I am making someone smile, for a moment. Then I see it only as sadness. My struggle is startling enough to make people chuckle? I don't remember laughing when I was bleeding from all that scratching. There was no fit of giggles that came when I was trapped in a sling? I wish I had heard the applause when I was packing my suitcase and being kicked out of my apartment.

Oh I am losing my point. I am tired and beginning to feel weak. This was just a moment to vent. It's confusion and not in a particular kind of order.

I have finished reading, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and Wings. We're moving onto On The Road. I need to read/listen to happier things.

In short. To anyone who has gone to college. What the fuck?

Monday, November 17

A Monday Completed.


A Monday Completed
A Poem

Marc:
you there man?
me: hey
who is this?
Marc: would love to see that big cock of yours on cam...
:-)
marc
me: haha Marc who?
do I know you
Marc: 10" dick that you wanted back in the summer.
we've never met
but you said,
me: Oh okay yes

Marc: I love the idea of tackling something that big. I'm really turned on by that right now. I decided I'm to tired for the gym. So I'm gonna crawl into bed. When are you free.
and i quote.

me: It's coming back. Sorry I'm in the middle of building a coffee table right now. I'm not that horny either. Try again another time
Marc:
haha
alright
me: yes, yes. That was me in my dirty mind. woof. But tonight. Not so much right now.

It was a valiant gesture on his part. Bravo, dear sir.

Other than that, I am stressed out a little. I will be working soon. I'm tired, I wish to sleep.

Sunday, November 16

The Weekend Returns

I'm using it like a student. That counts for something.

When I'm not killing cockroaches, I am seeing horrible plays like To Be Or Not To Be. Or going to brunch and having decent food. Or doing homework assignment after assignment.

That's all.

The Cockroach and The Sandal

Picture a cockroach, now picture a cockroach that's bigger than that one you originally thought of. Okay, does he look like this. Yes? Good we're on the same page here.

She's been living in my room since August. Maybe it's not even the same one since August. Maybe it's her sister. Well regardless oh which generation she falls into. She is now dead. I killed her with a sandal. She tempted me, deceitful slut. Showed her face and danced into my sight.

Elizabeth was intent on kill her, but she didn't like my roommate. After the first search was through I sat by myself and not before to long she popped up again. The tango started and I got my sandal. She ran into a trap of her devices, into my bookshelf. She ran into a corner and I swatted, not wanting to crush her on my rare copies of books.

She ran up the sandal and fell back downwards and I took one quick swipe and she EXPLODED!

WHOA, what? Cockroaches explode? When does this happen? What video did I miss that told me this fact?

I ran out of my room screaming as if I had just killed a family of four and woken up in their blood. "I killed it! It exploded and it's terrible!!!!"

We quickly got rid of the body and I washed all the tools involved. My fingertips reek of bleach, but no traces will ever be found. Dear god, she exploded.

Sweet dreams.

Friday, November 14

A Paper Bag Over My Head

I was upset so I sat in my room with a paper bag over my head. Inside the paper bag I looked around, felt cramped and absurd. If someone could see me the would probably break out in laughter. So in my stress I broke out in tears.

Realist, let's be real right now! In less than two weeks I am going to New Orleans, I feel like such a world traveler. I will watch my wallet, but I intend to enjoy myself. I can do this, I think.

The job search. When does it happen, I have a couple of lame options. They're options though.

I finished reading The Beautiful Room Is Empty. Very good novel, so earnest and sincere.

I have been feeling sad recently, it's a tough feeling to fight. It's fall and things are changing. We are trying new things (ie: Paper Bag on head) and seeing different results (ie: Tears).

This weekend is dedicated to homework. Model building, studying, outlining, drafting, etc. Just need to get through this semester and it'll be okay. It'll be okay.

Thursday, November 13

New York Protesting



Thanks to Jeff for taking these :)

Tuesday, November 11

Thank you kindly.



This is it. We are speaking out, we are upset.

San Francisco Reflection


I wrote this on the plane ride home today:

San Francisco to New York. Fleeing the daylight as quickly as I can. The other end of the country, a place that came and went in five days. I left at 4:30 AM and had to hold back tears. It’s not like I suddenly hate New York City, but the difference of the cities is stunning.

I am excited to return to New York and I plan listening to Liza Minnelli Live at Carnegie Hall . When she sings, I Happen to Like New York and then finishes with New York, New York. I will be home.

San Francisco is where I will go to die, I think. No, no that’s a touch harsh. It’s true what they say, “You don’t move to New York to rest peacefully.” I think I may have made that saying up. Or a wise man once told me, I forget which. I can only presume that the opposite end of the country is where you go to rest peacefully.

I met some of the locales and enjoyed their quirkiness. Jim is an interesting guy, my San Franciscan Connection, for this I am eternally grateful. Cool, cute and calculated. He’s got a plan and intends to follow through. He captures the world through a camera lens and I find that a worthy cause to live for. I love his photos.

The waitress at It’s Top’s Diner. During both my trips there she discussed politics rather heatedly. She ran the counter and chatted with me as if I’d come into the diner everyday for years. She wasn’t annoying and she often got her point across eloquently enough.

The girl from New Orleans, but not lives in San Francisco whom sat next to me at Hemlock Tavern. She placed her wine down and simply said, “I am just putting this on the table. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be friendly or anything.” I smiled and we joked back and forth. Then quickly added, “I’m holding you up from being rude.” It was a completely harmless and fun interaction.

In New York, you’d probably get a lewd look, luckily I left the New Yorker Attitude on the East Coast. The only time it slipped out was when we missed a Trolley Car and I screamed out, “WELL FUCK YOU, TOO!” Since it was a tourist area, not to mention little kids were around, I got off looks. You can take the boy out of New York City...

When San Francisco is sunny, it’s like seeing an classic movie in Cinema-Scope. The colors are so lush I found my eyes tearing from the saturation. When it’s rainy the city changes drastically. It isn’t like a gray day in New York. It seems as if the city is in mourning. At one point during my stay the city became completely engulfed in fog. I couldn’t see an inch in front of me. My entire mood fell and thus I allowed myself to weep.

Will I move there? Why is that a question I keep hearing? The waitress, K, my mother and different others would randomly asked that. Is San Francisco where New Yorkers go to when they’ve had enough? I suppose it’s only of the other cities to escape to. For it’s almost impossible to live in anything else after New York.

My soul, my spirit, my body and my mind have all been shaped by such a cruel mistress. In San Francisco, I was able to recapture something. To relive memories of my childhood I’d all but forgotten. Life would be quieter if I moved there, it’s only a fact that the city closes down at 2 AM. Silly Westerners, there were nights when my being didn’t begin until then.

I am home though. I am back in the state where I was born and raised. I am back in New York and the bloodline that connects me to this city, tainted yes, is of a superior strain. To move West would mean to change. To escape. Am I ready to escape?

Not quiet yet. It’s all a matter of order. Finish college, this annoying priority is ahead of any other decisions I make. I am 23-years-old...

I'm back home and finishing up a project. I'm sleepy and tired, but it feels nice to be back. Elizabeth was here to greet me. A friend texted me and asked if I wanted to go into the city for
dinner. The 5-hour plane ride I just got off of obviously didn't seem to matter, I should still come out into the city. It's acts like that that remind me, I am home.

Open your Golden Gate.

Sunday, November 9

Lost It Today

Today was a rainy day in San Francisco. At one point the fog swallowed the landscape completely, the view was ruined and nothing could be seen.

I decided to check my bank account status. The honeymoon was over. I'm still on vacation, and I will enjoy myself. As I bought some books today and ordered tickets to Alcatraz for tomorrow. I just realized how low my bank account is.

When K returned to the apartment I burst into tears. I wrote myself a postcard. I told myself to stay strong, that these issues are only for now. I reread it aloud to K and was crying by the end of the postcard.

It was expected though, the tears I mean. So much excitement and happiness over the last few days. Then the fog comes in and I turn into an emotional mess. I am realizing that life is here to stay, you can't live in Oz forever. Eventually you'll have to return home.

I sat there crying and fretting. I need a job! There's so much homework to be done! How am I ever going to graduate? Why can't this happiness last? Will the city be grayer when I return?

The last time I felt like I wanted to cry this much was on April 1st. I had to remind myself that the game of life was starting again. I had to make sure I still was alert. It's time for a job, somehow you'll work. Someway you will work. Think and it will become a reality.

Life will always be this way, you have been neglecting your duties as a human being. You've been allowing yourself to much joy. Is that a true fact? Personally I blame my college, which is why I feel like it was so easy to leave it.

I'll return and get my shit together, the memories of San Francisco fresh in my mind. The tears have stopped flowing and I have regained my composure.

Friday, November 7

Anti-Prop 8 Protest and The March of City Hall

Tonight I was part of an Anti-Prop 8 Protest in San Francisco. We stumbled upon it right outside of K’s apartment. It started off as a group of about 40-60 people blocking the street shouting out, “What we do we want? EQUAL RIGHTS! When do we want it? RIGHT NOW!!” I felt a charge, nothing major, but one that put a smile on my face and an extra beat in my chest. Yet, I wondered if these 60 people were the only ones who cared about Equality.

After about Ten minutes the group of 40 slowly turned around to face the other side of the street. There was a quiet calm and in the distance a huge mass of bodies was moving down Market St! They had walked to Dolores Park and back. Gathering more and more followers in their wake. Now they were ready to march on city hall (which was only two blocks away from where we were). I quickly called K, told her to move, cause we were marching on City Hall!

K and I quickly joined the march. Shouting proudly and walking amongst people who all believed in Equal Rights! Oh, the energy of it all! It was astounding. Suddenly, I knew that I have discovered a passion I feel so greatly towards. My friend (a native New Yorker) was telling me that Homosexuals from the West are to complacent and not passionate about anything anymore. Was this complacency? Does that mean the homosexual population in New York City is close to death?

The whole feeling was amazing! Coming here at 15, having just come out. I never foresaw in 8 years I would be returning and marching for such a historic cause! This trip keeps making circles in my life. I feel increasing clarity each day. Though I know the real world will return the moment I set foot back in the city. I will be jobless, I will feel alone, I will still worry at night and I know that all these feelings won’t just go away. Tonight though! Tonight was for discovering, for experiencing and for taking it all in.

We reached City Hall and continued to shout. I grabbed K’s hand and quickly got us as close as I could to the hall. I texted friends back in NY and just felt so exhilirated to be there! We shouted and I took a step back. Suddenly, I bumped into a deity, I wanted to fall to my knees in Rapture. Our Messiah has descended.

A Drag Goddess dressed in all gold made her way up to the steps. She didn’t have a name, she was just one of the many who were here and were proud! Ironic as it all is, no one thought to bring a megaphone. Yet her voice rang out, not mic’d and as clear as any voice in the dark. The crowd soon fell silent.

“We are here for a common cause! We all believe in Equality! This march was formed spontaneously through text messages and emails. Through Myspace and Facebook messages! And somehow, I seem to have been voted as the leader!” The crowd broke out in loud cheers of excitement!

“Tonight a straight couple was walking down the street with their baby in a stroller, because they believe in equal rights! A lesbian couple was walking with their baby and I turned to them and said, ‘When your child is grown. No matter what sexuality, gender or race he will be. He WILL have the right to marry whomever he chooses!” We cheered more than ever! “It may take a while, but we will get there! Tonight is only the beginning!” Eva Peron had spoken and the Casa Rosada was alive with hope!

Oh, to be there was powerful! I have never protested for anything, because I rarely feel so strongly towards anything. I find everyday I want to be part of a gay cause. Fighting HIV/AIDS or fighting for Equality. Something, but for tonight, I was part of something and it will stay in my memory for the rest of my life!

The Castro

I felt like Dorothy leaving the house and entering Oz, everything was in color. The Castro is gayer than I ever pictured, but in a good way. In a way that writers unfold in their novels. It's so different from New York City, it's refreshing in a way. No one was cruising me when I walked by them, and I know it's not cause I'm ugly.

I met a Live Journal friend. Jim, whose name I'm not afraid to use, met me for lunch and we talked. The circle is complete. I know that I was a little excited, so I hope my personality didn't terrify him. We'll see tomorrow when he goes out dancing with me. If he doesn't then I'll know if I was to much. Oh, the joys of being an over sensitive Cancer. He was very nice and polite. As well, he was very put together

Moving along, he showed me some of the sights of the area. The park was beautiful and we had lunch at a cute diner. Except a diner in San Francisco is really nice, oh Jim, if I could show you what "diner" means in NYC. My favorite thing as when he showed me the Adobe Book Shop and I swear we saw a bum(an) who was feeling affects of the Heroin. I'm going back to the bookshop soon though, cause it's got used books and if there's anything I do now, it's read all the time.

Speaking of books, last night K gave me a signed copy of Tales of the City. What's odd is the other day I was thinking about that book (seeing as I was coming to San Francisco) and she got it for me.

Tomorrow is the Aquarium and dancing and other things I guess. I play is by ears.

Oh and I've decided that my new favorite gay author will soon be William S. Burroughs. It was only a matter of time. I think this trip is turning gears and cogs in my mind and life, I am discovering what I came here for. I knew it would happen, but wasn't sure how.

The weekend isn't over yet, it's only beginning.

Thursday, November 6

San Fran Fun

I arrived safe and sound. Lovely to be with my friend. I'm upset because my roommate called me with news that no one was prepared for. I am here for five days and I plan to enjoy myself! Tomorrow I am seeing a friend and getting lunch and exploring!

Wednesday, November 5

This Is All I Can Relate To Right Now.

Chita Rivera and I just want to spread a little sunshine.

I was all over the city tonight watching the election. With friends in barrooms and in streets. In "Election Plaza" and then to Time Square. When we arrived at the hotel room it was done! There was shouting and excitement. A great speech by both parties and just a feeling of relief in the air.

Then there's Prop 8. We're holding our breath in this household. It's not the end, it's only the beginning. There's many new beginnings for everyone. Hurrah beginnings!

Sunday, November 2

The Gnawing Bother

I'm going to write before bed and see if that calms this anxious feeling in my stomach. Tomorrow is my Bio Midterm, something I feel under-prepared for, but will pass like all exams. Then is the election, oh I am sure I'm not the only one to be worrying about that.

Then the trip to San Francisco. Oh, that one I am really looking forward to. I am excited to meet people who I admire and great friends that I deeply love. To travel, what a thought. I would have never foreseen my life coming this path.

I think that's what keeps me going in life, it's the twists and turns it takes. Thoughts you had and have continuously. Tonight I did something I don't like. I got lost in thought, the weakness, but it happens to all.

It started during a conversation with a great friend. About dating, life and love. He made a comment, "I just can't see any of us pairing off." It struck a chord and kept echoing in my head.

He was referring to our group of friends. It made me feel really special, because without knowing it I've spent 2.5 years with these guys. I remember being terrified so long ago, because I just wanted them to like me. How strange is that?

They are my first real gay friends and I learned so much by just being around them. That realization was a good point of the day. Then the presentation of being unable to "couple up" hit my desk. It's obviously not true, but sometimes I think about how anyone can really break into a group that's pretty solid. Isn't that the kind of plot used in most movies, but does it happen in real life?

So I let it sit the entire day and that was my fatal error. Then I came home and it grew, as I began to feel overwhelmed. My midterms, the election, my trip, my homework. Why did I agree to go to Spring Awakening?

Oh, wait I don't mind that surprise.

It's a free ticket, it's cathartic bullshit and I need it! Despite the fact there are no Spring Awakening performances on any other Monday besides this one, that's what told me I had to go. If you let life run it's course, sometimes it's a little easier to deal with.

Which leads me back this trip to San Francisco! I lose my points so easily. This trip was originally tentative, but it happened nonetheless. It marks beginnings and continuations.

I know my story, and that's the point it's my own. Is it also ironic that I leave for San Francisco the exact same week that I'd met The Tall Man? 'Tis Fate I swear.

And I go off to see a friend that is a chosen family member. Someone I would love to grow old with, how wonderful to know I can feel this towards someone. She's a female, how ironic. A fellow Cancer and she showed me that kindness in this world can still exist.

Then I'm going to grow a pair of testicles for once and meet someone off of Livejournal. Oh, blogs of yesteryear, if these walls could talk. This story once again goes on and it is my own. So I'll share it with those I see fit.

So I will fall a little behind in my work. I'm letting myself sink into "travel" mode a couple of days early. This trip has been coming for months and the anticipation is almost to much. I only hope those in San Francisco are ready for the surges of emotion that my erupt, or perhaps none will happen at all.

San Francisco: 2 Days.

My Halloween: An Essay in Two Pictures



...And he lived happily ever after.

The Fourth Little Piggy

Halloween came and went, but it was spent with friends and filled with little quips that are memorable. I will begin my tale from the beginning, as I suppose that is the best thing to do.

I arrived to get ready at my friend’s place. It was a friend of a friend’s place. If I had been informed that the person who had inhabited the apartment (and his boyfriend) had been up the entire night doing drugs and having sex, I would’ve been more quiet. I understand what it’s like to be tweaking out on drugs and want peace. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been informed so I let my voice ring out to the balcony!

My friend was an obscure Superman Villain and I was a SexPig. I called our costumes McCain/Palin, but one would expect I should be so witty. I crossed a line and made a joke about my recent spider bites and the host’s boyfriend, in tweaking glory, jumped up to the farthest corner away from me and screamed, “I will put up with a LOT of shit, but bugs isn’t one of them!”

The pause in the room between myself and him was one for the history books. I let out a laugh and muttered, “It was only...a joke.” He didn’t move, so I countered, “Would you...like me to...leave? The room?” I played the supporting role and took my exit.
On the streets things were calm again. We went to the first of two parties, the first was a Gay Geek’s “Alice in Wonderland” Themed Party. Luckily my hog outerwear allowed to me to take the role of the Pig-Baby the Duchess give’s Alice. Success!

Gay Geek’s are such an interesting breed of people. I see the strange Gay Geek Trait’s I still possess. Seeing them dating is even stranger. Proving that not just a beautiful body will find you love. I don’t know if I’d exchange it for love. Oh, how narcissistic I am!

It wasn’t until the Subway Ride to the next party that the real fun began! We were quickly surrounded by a group of Ghetto Thug Queers. Such a breed is rarely seen, but only on holidays and other special occasions. They surrounded my green partner and I.

“Who is you supposed to be?” One asked.

“I’m--a green man. My friend is a--pig.” We were wary, for the wrong phrasing could be our downfall.

The girls didn’t advance and my friend responded with, “What are you?” They were all wearing wearing various hoodies, sweaters and toile Ballet Skirts. As well as baseball caps on several of the heads, tilted to the side.

“I’m a princess.” The tallest one said softly, I leaned in and asked what she said. Only to discover she was a black boy in drag. Oh the wonders you can see, but only when you’re dressed as a sow. “You have amazing blue eyes!” This observation by them was so quick and took us by such surprise.

“Than-k yo-u.” I breathed and suddenly felt hot in my coat, it had to come off or I’d soon be dripping in sweat. Pig indeed! I started my Gypsy Rose Lee appreciation number and the Ghetto Thug Queers stood transfixed.

“Gurl! Take it OFF!” One shouted and I stripped off the coat and bent over, as only a pig should. The subway car erupted into a flurry of applause and catcalls. I started to snort and they ate it up. I had inadvertently become part of the Ghetto Thug Queer Society without even trying. “That is HAWT!” Another one shouted. Why do I do the things I do?

I suddenly became very aware of how exposed I was on a subway and quickly covered up. I was getting into character, but it’s Halloween. It should happen that way. The parting of my friend and I meant that I was now ready to fend for myself.

I boarded a different train and entered the car, it was hot again, I tried to do it casually. As casual as a boy in pink shorts, pig ears, snout and the words "Sluthole" written on his back can be. The rest of the car caught wind.

“Oh my lawd!” Those black ladies love to make their opinions known. “That’s terrific!” I smiled and snorted again, the movement of the fake nose with my breathing really gave people a laugh.

The train finally arrived and I made my way to the party, the neighborhood looked as if Halloween ended two hours ago. However, a boy in Pig Ears in Brooklyn isn’t an uncommon sight anymore.

I managed to find my way down the streets and arriving at the party. I came upstairs and my friend’s caught a view of me and some made it vocal they enjoyed it. So I began to be as dirty as I could be, that’s what SexPigs do. Lot’s of snorting and grinding of my hips. After about 45 seconds of my outrageous performance I looked around and noticed the entire room was staring, why shouldn’t they be? “He--Hello everyone! How are you?” I shouted and continued to run around the room snorting.

Oh the wonders when you wear a different nose. Why not be a little wild? It’s Halloween and you’re with friends. There was a cute sailor too, he kept looking at me. At that point though, I think it was of him wondering if I was simple.