Explosion

Last night it all came out. In one big drunken explosion. I was out with everyone. The Canadian was there too. We laughed. We drank. We danced. Then it happened. After a odd conversation over a cigarette, we went back inside. He met a boy. A boy he didn't know. I was fine with the making out. He's not mine and I have no claim to him. I"ve been fine with it every other time it's happened.

But this time it was different. This time it was a show. For me. Every time he looked at me, I could see it in the look he gave me. It was manipulative. It was cruel. I was furious. He had taken advantage of the way I felt for him. Even though I've never told him, he knew. But it wasn't just the romantic feelings that made it hurt so much. It was the fact that we were friends. We were friends from the beginning and have remained friends. That's what really hurt. He took advantage of all of me. When I am truly a friend, I'm totally open. You get all of me. I let all of my defenses down. And he came at me last night when I was totally unarmed. It's been a long time since I felt pain like that, since I had to be held back from starting a fight. Since I walked alone for hours in a strange city I barely know. Since I came close to crying myself to sleep.

 
Well, here I am in Vancouver. This city is absolutely beautiful. We have been doing a great deal of sightseeing and shopping around town. That and eating and drinking -- constantly. Last night we went to a Brazilian restaurant and ate an all meat buffet. I don't think I have ever consumed that much red meat in one night. And it showed. Our bill was over 700 bucks.

Tomorrow we are supposed to be going to Whistler to see the village and some of us are going to ski. I, however, have opted to hang out in front of the fire and search out hot ski instructors.

Then it's more clubbing and eating till we change venues and head to Seattle for New Years. We have no clue what we are doing so if anyone knows what's going on in Seattle for New Year's Eve, please let me know. Pretty, pretty please?

If I don't get back to a computer before then, Happy New Year's.

 
Christmas here was good. It was spent with with both family and friends, (in order to preserve my sanity), and now I am off to Vancouver for New Year's to visit some friends.

Hopefully, you'll here from me soon. If not, it means I have decided to illegally move to Canada.

 
I think I have reached a point of gayness from which I can never go back.

Last night, after the family festivities were over John and I found ourselves at the Bourbon Pub singing along to "Hard Candy Christmas"

Regardless, I'd like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Solstice, Holiday Season, etc.

 
I now remember why I always say I'll get my christmas shopping done earlier every year. Becuase I am often driven to psychotic rage when shopping this late.

Today I went to Toys R Us. I know, going there this close to christmas I deserve whatever I get. I think that I could have handled the crowds, pissy parents and screaming children if it hjadn't been for the ride there. The trip there was punctuated by insane amounts of traffic, pouring rains and mild street flooding. That's right, if christmas shopping weren't bad enough, I had to deal with the mildly flooded streets of Metairie.

But I am officially done with the christmas shopping. So I think I am going to curl up in the fetal position on my bed with some wine and a movie.

 
So yeah, in, like fourteen days I'll be in Vancouver. I am, like, sooo excited.

**This post brought to you by the 14 year old girl who lives inside me**

 
Imagine, if you will, a lovely holiday home tour situated in one of the more affluent neighborhoods of New Orleans. Can you smell the live garlands and scented candles? Imagine enjoying a glass of wine or cider while you nibble on canapes.

Then you wake up and realize that you merely work at the coffee shop/restaurant in said affluent neighborhood. You will instead spend your day serving these women who seem to not know what a tip is. And you swear to god that if you have to see one more rude woman who will only tip six cents when she paid for a $30.00 meal, while wearing one of the tackiest christmas sweaters you have ever seen, you are going to snap and fling hot coffee in her face.

Of course, this is totally a hypothetical situation. Which is why I need a hypothetical drink. Actually, make that several.

 
All I can hear outside right now is police sirens and honking horns. No, there hasn't been some major accident. It's just a parade of Santas on motorcycles going down the highway. It's a wonder sometimes why I like living here.

 
Yesterday I received some spam with the subject: Elves Love Sex Toys Too!. Today I deleted one with Mrs. Clause Loves Kama Sutra in the subject heading.

I'm not sure what is going on at the North Pole, but they better stop fucking around long enough to deliver some presents.

I'm now just waiting for the email about the reindeer and the beastiality.

 
There are things that I now know that I wish I hadn't discovered. At certain times, ignorance can be bliss. Right now I can't eat or sleep. I can barely think straight. I have a rather big piece of information and I don't know what to do with it. Expext a lot of very vague posts for a litle while. There are things that just shouldn't be put on the net, but I don't see how what I just learned is isn't going to crep up into everything I do.

 
Well, I am leaving in a few short hours. The Canadian left this afternoon, after a long weekend of some quality time. I, of course, got choked up like I always do when he leaves. Luckily this wasn't one of those indefinite goodbye's. I know that I will see him in a month when a bunch of us are going to visit a friend in Vancouver right after Christmas. But despite that, it's always somewhat bittersweet to see him because while the time I spend with him is amazing, it also makes me realize that this is something that just can't happen. It seems that the fates are against us. The entire continental United States seperates us and we both have very different plans for our lives. But whose to say, right?

But Montreal was a blast. I got to play in the snow, check out grad schools and visit somewhere I hadn't been before. Speaking of which, as it stands, with the planned Christmas/New Year's trip to Vancouver, I will have hit the three major Canadian cities in one year. Maybe one of my resolutions should be to try and stay home a bit more.

Soon, though I will be returning home. Home to the sweltering land of New Orleans. But is is a place that I appreciate and am looking forward to be getting back to. And as such, to ensure that I don't oversleep and miss my flight, I'm just staying up so that I can catch my cab at 6:15. Which is what finds me here in an internet cafe a few blocks from my hotel at 2:30 in the morning. So if any of you at home don't here from me tomorrow, don't get upset, it just means I'm sleeping.

 
It's snowing!!!

 
Dear god it is fucking cold here in Montreal. Despite that fact I am loving it. I am staying in the gay village and have wondered around some but there is still a lot more to see. It is a bit odd to be running around looking at grad schools today, seeing as how it's Thanksgiving at home. I have such a hankering for turkey, cranberry sauce and stuffing right now it hurts. What's worse is that I am missing out on my godmother's pecan pie and white chocolate cheesecake. Hopefully someone has the piece of mind to save me some leftovers for when I get home on Monday. The rest of the time will be spent sightseeing, shopping and going out.

PS: James, your parents would be glad to know that Dan and I will be going to the church where Celine Dion got married.

 
I think I may be all gay-ed out. Last night I brought James and one of his roomates to Good Friends. After being there for all of a minute I was completely over it. I am just tired of the scene here. It's never anything new. It's been the same crap for years and shows no signs of changing. For once I want to be able to go out and not have my bartender finishing up the last few hours of his 3 day drinking binge or have someone cruise me in the bathroom or try to sell me drugs or deal with bar patrons strung out on K or coke or whatever.

So I think I'll be taking a break from the New Orleans gay scene for a while. Granted this won't last forever. There are only so many places in this city I can go to look at cute boys and get drunk with a campy soundtrack in the background.

 
Last weekend I had a friend come to town to visit. She had only been here once before, for Mardi Gras. That was her only impression of the city. We spent Sunday in the French Quarter the way one is supposed to spend a Sunday - shopping, eating and drinking. I was able to recount all kinds of historical bits and trivia about New Orleans and the French Quarter.

It's nice having someone to show around the city. It makes me appreciate so many things that I often take for granted or totally forget about. All it takes is a little re-adjustment of perspective to fall in love with this city all over again.

 
Did I mention that in a week and a half I will be in Montreal? I am incredibly excited even though I am going with the intention of looking at grad schools. There will be some surprise guests which is going to make the whole trip worthwhile.

The only thing I'm worried about is how a boy from a semi-tropical climate like myself is going to fare in the frigid north. I don't even think I can buy clothes for weather that cold anywhere around here.

 
Today I had a stripper rub my face all over her breasts and spank me in front of everyone at Rick's Cabaret. THat's what happens when you have friends in from out of town and you go see a friend at work. Such is life in New Orleans

 
Most people wouldn't think that after hearing a lecture given by John Guare that they would ultimately end up driving home in their car, filled with someone else's vomit. Everywhere. even on them. I, on the other hand, wasn't really the least bit surprised.

Anyone have any tips on the best way to get rid of the smell?

 
Notes on Life

1. On Halloween I discovered that blondes really do have more fun. Especially when one is dressed as a blonde, battered housewife.

2. Tobey Maguire is made all the more fuckable by watching his screen test on the new Spider Man DVD.

3. My mother's carrot cake may be one of the best things to eat. Ever.

 
Received this email last week and it made me laugh. Also, I have aspirations for making this a reality. It would be a day dedicated to telling everyone what you really think. Plus running over pedestrians would be sooo much fun.

Dear Mr. Rogers,

International Bitch Day?

That's the one where they run pedestrains over during the parade.

I'm so there.

sean

 
I could only hope.

In other news, I actually used the phrase "false pseudonyms" tonight. Can I please go back to school?

 
How was my night you ask?

I went to the Gong Show at Oz which was apparently themed ghetto-tastic. The girl from Biloxi basically did everyone in when she called Bianca del Rio "queenie girl." And she was only the first person on stage. The show ended abruptly when the prize wheel actually fell on Bianca and knocked her off the stage.

Have you ever seen a drag queen attacked by a prize wheel? Don't. It fucks up your world, especially after a few drinks.

 
I think that I have to agree. "If your not part of the solution, you're part of the problem." We were actually discussing the merits of sniping at work. We decided that we should keep a pellet gun behind the counter to be used on stupid customers. Of course, we have no desire to be secretive about our sniping. Rather we would identify a specific customer as stupid (we already have a LONG list), tell them so. and then shoot them.

We have no intentions of actually killing them, just wouding them. It's sort of like the tests where rats learn to push the lever that isn't electrified. Our hope is that we could train them to behave properly. Also, by shooting customers so publicly, the assumption is that it will be an example to the rest of the customers.

If smeone were to walk up to the counter and ask a question such as "Do you serve coffee?" we would be allowed to shoot them. Or if my favorite bitch of a woman were to come in and ask for her chicken caeser salad with no cheese and substitute walnuts for the chicken and instead of caeser dressing, to bring her oil and vinegar on the side, I would be perfectly within my rights to shoot at her and tell her what I think. If that doesn't work, I would be allowed to beat her into submission with a chair.

Of course, all of this was brought on by the fact that today was apparently International Bitch Day.

 
The other day I saw a commercial for the new season of Boston Public, and it amazed me. The show itself has always amazed me. It is a program, that for the most part, valorizes the teaching profession. I am impressed by this facet because it is something that is so rarely done in society at large. Teachers, for the most part, are incredibly underappreciated figures.

Maybe my feelings on this are slightly influenced by the fact that my mother is a teacher. Regardless, though, this is an issue that often gets me on top of my soapbox, so here I go.

David Kelley would apparently have us believe that teachers are heroes, but only when they are dealing with riots, school shootings and drag queens as prom queens. Most teachers never have such worries. They have to cope with getting a classroom full of kids to learn something. They are faced with kids who don't want to be there, parents who are uninvolved, poor funding, lack of supplies, and countless other obstacles. They do all of this for a rather pathetic salary.

I am always astounded when someone has the gall to mutter something along the lines of "Those who can do; those who can't teach." Often this is said by someone who just doesn't have a clue. Probably by someone who actually gets a lunch break as opposed to trying to eat in all of fifteen minutes before they have a duty or class. Someone, who for the most part won't leave work with 150 papers to grade. Or someone who when they get vacation from work, they're really on vacation. Teachers, who all have their summers off may spend that time trying to earn extra income, or develop lesson plans or try and figure out a new textbook series.

Now I don't think that all teachers are the most wonderful people ever. There are bad teachers. I've had some of them. But there are also a lot of very good teachers who often don't get the thanks they deserve. Teaching is not a profession for the social climber or those looking to get rich. It's a labor of love, as corny as that may sound.

Basically, that entire diatribe was intended to lead in to me asking for a favor. Just slightly tip the scales for only a brief period of time. In a society where we feel that a man who throws a baseball or football for a living deserves to get paid millions of dollars but the people who teach us only deserve maybe $30,000, just go and tell a teacher, any teacher, "thank you." Whether they are your teacher or your kids' teacher or just any teacher, just let them know that they are appreciated.

***stepping off soapbox***

 
I got drunk. Then I came back to James' and we dyed a guy's hair and Nair-ed his back. Not just any guy. A straight guy. His hair looks good and the Nair-ing process was dis-gust-ing. How's that for a night.

 
I am headed over to James' where I will be using my gay super power of dying hair on his roommate. I have other gay superpowers but it is likely I won't be breaking any of those out this evening. That's just so I can continue to maintain my secret identity.

 
I am in love with Ian Somerhalder from The Rules of Attraction. Just seeing him dancing on a bed in his underwear to George Michael's "Faith" made my evening.

 
Today was a perfect day. The weather's a-changin' and I took this as my cue for some much needed time off. I woke up had a leisurely breakfast with the fam and then hit Rue on Magazine Street. I just sat outside with a book and a cup of coffee and disconnected. No cell phone, no telling people where I was, nothing. I eventually took a little stroll and went window shopping before heading back home. Now I am off to meet some friends over a few glasses of wine. With the realization that I am off work tomorrow, that will make tonight so much more enjoyable.

 
It's finally starting to look like fall here in the Big Sleazy. It's in the low 70's and slightly breezy. This may not seem like anything special, but living in a city where seasons are practically indistinguishable, I am in heaven. We're finally getting real fall weather. It's not just due to an oncoming hurricane.

 
I've always known how to love. It's something I can give freely, and have done so for a while. I've always been good about showing love, for the most part.

It's the receiving that I've always had a problem with. I have never been able to cope with the idea of someone else showing me love. I guess that I felt I never really deserved it. In fact, I have done a great deal of things in my life, both consciously and unconsciously, to prove to myself that I am not worthy of another's love. As a result, when another person tried to love me, I was often scared and confused; I often tried to push that person away. Maybe I was just afraid that if I was open to it, I might get hurt.

Recently, all of that has changed. through numerous events and people, I have learned that I am in fact deserving of another's love. James taught me that it's OK to be open to love. He taught me that I might get hurt but that I can and will survive. I have learned through the example he presents everyday. Life in general has taught me a lot. The past few years I have spent a lot of time getting to know myself, and realizing that I am not all that bad. Kristi, though, my long time friend and soul sister, was the first to show me that I am worthy of being loved. Despite everything, she has always loved me, almost unconditionally. And she was never afraid to tell me. She started me on the path to being open to love. It is to her that I am indebted for finally being able to fully discover love and for allowing love to finally discover me.

 
Whoever came to my site looking for Sesame Street spank Big Bird, if you ever come back I swear to god I will hunt you down and beat you to death with your own severed limb. That's just sick. Now go to your room and think about what you've done

 
I think that you officially have a problem when you go out and there is a debate about who gets to blog the events of the evening.

 
After James and I spent a good deal of time trying to find some place that was affordable to evacuate to (read: what bloggers do we want to meet?) we were forced to throw in the towel. Sadly, New York, San Francisco, Denver, Tuscon, etc. were all to expensive if we were to hop on a plane tomorrow.

If classes are in fact cancelled, it looks like James may be heading over to the homestead. I have key lime pie in the fridge and a well stocked bar. What more could a boy ask for in a natural disaster?

 
After James and I spent a good deal of time trying to find some place that was affordable to evacuate to (read: what bloggers do we ant to meet?) Sadly, New York, San Francisco, Denver, Tuscon, etc were all to expensive if we were to hop on a plane tomorrow.

If classes are in fact cancelled, it looks like James may be heading over to the homestead. I have key lime pie in the fridge and a well stocked bar. What more could a boy ask for in a natural disaster?

 
And the fun never seems to stop here in New Orleans. Just after we are finished dealing with one storm, here comes another.

There's a whole different type of fun going on over here. I'm glad Aaron's back, and in such swanky new digs.

 
Today at work I overheard a woman's cell phone conversation. She was actually a very upper class woman with her two darling children who had stopped in to get lunch. As she was walking away from the counter I heard her say:

"The poor thing. The guy held her at gunpoint and made her empty out her purse and then threatened to kill her." In the same breath, she non-chalantly followed that statement with: "Oh, you know how it is."

May I never have to live in that woman's world.

 
Things to do to entertain yourself when you're cooped up inside due to a tropical storm:

1. Read

2. Download music and burn countless numbers of CD's

3. Redesign the blog

 
Despite the fact that I live in New Orleans, one of my favorite sounds is rain. I absolutely love it. Don't ask me why, I just do. If I was ever on Inside The Actors' Studio, I would answer the question "what sound or noise do you love?" with "Rain."

Just thought I'd throw out that little fact since that's all it's doing right now.

 
There are people in this world I will never understand. I accept that. What I have trouble dealing with is the fact that many of these people seem to patronize the places where I work. Take for example a brief encounter that happened at 3:35 this afternoon. Keep in mind that it had been raining since last night and by this time the streets had started to flood.

Customer: What time do you close?
Me: At four.
My Internal Monologue: Why do you even need coffee? Go home, asshole .

Cust: Are you serving dinner later?
Me: Sir, we close in 25 minutes.
My IM: No you fucking dolt. We aren't serving dinner. We actually would like to get to our own homes before the streets are impassable.

Cust: Oh, well I guess I'll just get something now, then.
Me: Sure, what would you like?
My IM: That's right. Get your food and get out. And I'm not giving you the option of getting it for here.

Cust: I'll have a chicken caeser salad. And can I get that quickly because the streets are starting to flood.
Me: Sure thing. It will be ready shortly
My IM: Of course the streets are starting to flood, you fuckwad, we're experiencing a tropical storm. It's helpless, lazy people like yourself who kept this place open to begin with today. Why can't you just make yourself a goddamn sandwich?

I honestly don't understand people like that. Essentially the coffee shop was closed by 3:30. All we had left to do was dump coffee. We hadn't even had a customer in almost an hour. Why this man needed a chicken caeser salad i honestly don't know. And I am afraid that if I found out the real answer to that question I would be compelled to rip off his arm and beat him to death with it.

What people need to understand is that those of us who work in the service industry are there to serve you. But, you shouldn't ask for a ridiculously unreasonable request or treat us like shit. We will seek our revenge, we promise. And more than likely, you won't even realize it.

 
The streets have started to flood and everything seems to be closing if it hasn't already. Basically I plan to be watching a lot of movies and rading a lot over the next day or so. There is nothing to do and nowhere to go. And seeing as how my internet connection is currently running somewhere between extremely slow and non-existent, don't expect much in terms of updates.

 
I'm off to work. I get to serve crazy people and their children coffee and food. Lovely. Hopefully I'll be able to get home this afternoon when I get off. I fyou don't here from me for a while, don't fret. It's just the power going out.

 
It raining. A lot. Last night there was actually a glimpse of fall weather. It was cool and breezy. Of course, when the weather turns like that in September here, it can only mean one thing. And it's not good. Schools have been cancelled for the rest of the week in most of the city and many people are off of work. Of course, I am not. As it stands, the coffee shop plans to be open tomorrow as well as Thursday. That's right - Thursday, the day that the heavens open up and destroy New Orleans with a fury that hasn't been seen since Noah and the Ark.

I'm just trying to figure out if I'll be able to go to work tomorrow. There's already started to be some light street flooding here in the Ridge. Of course we flood when someone spits so I'm not surprised. I figure I'll be able to get to work tomorrow, but there is a question of whether or not I'll be able to get home. I'll guess I'll just have to beg one of my SUV driving friends to come get me as I watch my car float down Metairie Road. Thursday I am off and avoiding the phone like the plague. I have no desire for someone to beg me to come to work even though the power is out. Because if we are open on Thursday, I guaranty you that there will be people stupid enough to come and get a cup of coffee. And to those people, I hope your cars get swept up in a torrid rush of flood waters and you drown.

 
I would just like to say that I love New Orleans. It is a city that I have a unique love affair with. One that I can't explain, but that will probably continue throughout my life. One of the things that I find at once to be both fascinating and frightening about this city is that we are constanly in danger of total destruction.

New Orleans is a city that is, on average, 6 feet below sea level. Essentially, it is nothing more than a big bowl. The city is basicaly built on drained swamp land. This of course , results in a city that slowly sinks. Not as a whole but, parts of it do. I know countless numbers of people whose houses sink considerable amounts each year. We are surrounded by a unique system of levees, which are there so that New Orleans is not flooded by the Mississippi River.

Honestly, all it would take is for one of the levees to break (which isn't likely) in the spring when the river is high, and the city would be inundated with water. As it is, it's something everyone here is quite used to. I know how to properly drive a vehicle through floodwaters. I also know how to hang drywall, having done it on numerous occasions when homes flood. I am quite used to seeeing house after house with rolls of wet carpet and piles of mildewed drywall outside to be picked up by the garbage trucks.

And now that Isidore may be moving into the Gulf, another possibility for destruction looms near. All it would take is for a large hurricane to come up the mouth of the Mississippi River and it would no longer be a question of evacuating, but having to change your mailing address. The water from both the river and Lake Pontchartrain that would spill into the bowl that is New Orleans would be catastrophic.

Maybe that's one of the reasons why life in this city is the way it is. Maybe the realization that we could easily be wiped out any minute is why we aren't always in such a hurry. We know that each day needs to be savored and enjoyed because it could be our last. We have festivals and celebrations almost constantly because we realize that our life and culture should be celebrated now because we could be quickly mourning our loss of it. New Orleans is a city that seems to flirt with death everyday, and it seems that for now, death is willing to let us slide for one more day.

 
Finally. LEGO's for adults. If you're a complete dork, like me, and always wanted to somehow combine playing with blocks and social theory, here's your chance. Go and get some LEGO theorists. I want the Michel Foucault with the San Francisco S & M Dungeon.

 
I recently purchased both Legend and The Dark Crystal on DVD. Both of these are movies that I remember fondly from my childhood, though upon recent viewing, I don't know why.

Both of those films, like many others from my childhood, are incredibly dark. When I really thought about it, I watched some really fucked up movies as a kid. I grew up watching movies like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and Dick Tracy. All films that were incredibly dark and probably not really suited for children. But the one that takes the cake from my childhood is the Sesame Street classic Follow That Bird. Talk about a film that could fuck a kid up. Big Bird is evicted from Sesame Street, and then taken in/kidnapped by a traveling carnival. When Big Bird, who has been painted blue, is sitting alone in a cage in the dark, despondently singing "I'm So Blue," I'm not sure it's possble to avoid the emotional scarring. Didn't the people at the Children's Television Workshop think we had dealt with enough when Mr. Hooper died? Did we really need a depressed Big Bird too?

I guess that these films, in a way, made me the person I am today - a jaded, cynical, bitch. I mean, really, I watched The Fox and The Hound as a child which is quite possibly the most depressing Disney cartoon ever made. What were my parents thinking?

 
Seems like everyone's coming back.

 
Last night should have never happened. Any of it. I should have stayed home in my bed. Last night I fucked a lot of things up. Badly. Things need to be repaired if they can be. I'm not talking about quick and easy repairs, these will take work and time. I just hope that whatever happens, people realize that I am the one responsible and that nothing gets taken out on anyone else.

I should have just stayed home in bed

 
Why should I even post today? I could black out my blog or just leave a simple and meaningful quote. Whatever words I may have will seem inadequate, but yet I feel the need to put them out there, if only for my benefit.

I'm posting mainly because It's one year later and still, it's an event that I can't seem to wrap my head around. The death of so many by so few in such a small time is completely overwhelming to me. I can't even seem to pin down how I feel about it. Am I overcome with grief? Do I want vengeance? Am I angry? Do I blame the terrorists? Do I blame the U. S.? Do I look for the good to come out of this?

Sometimes I feel all of these things and other times, like today, I just feel numb. I'm not sure what or how to feel so I just feel numb with the realization that the world will never be the same. That is both a good and bad thing, but I am not sure that I wanted that change either way, and definitely not at that cost.

 
Does anyone know what happened to Jerwin? When I try to go to his site I get re-directed to 123cheapdomains.

 
When normal epople go to a bar they go to have a drink or meet friends or even make new aquaintences. James and I, though, do not go to bars for such purposes. Instead, we go so that our bartender can get us to take him to the Westbank to buy supplies for his new Burmese python. Of course, in return, we get a night of drinks on the house, so it isn't all that bad. Regardless, I'm fairly sure that this can only happen to us.

 
It's official. Today was my honest-to-god last day at my job. It was supposed to be Wednesday but the boss forgot and begged me to come in today so he wouldn't be ridiculously shorthanded. I really didn't want to, but then I realized that since I'm on salary, I'd get paid for both yesterday and today, even though I didn't work yesterday at all. And I didn't even work a full shift today. Basically, I got a shitload of money for 6 hours of work. But now it's done and I am taking it easy for the next few days.

 
How's this for fucked up? Today was the last day at my job and my boss comes in this afternoon and asks me what my avaiability is for next week. He completely forgot the brief conversation we had last week when I told him my last day would be today. It's a wonder why I quit in the first place.

 
What I Did With My Labor Day Vacation Part II

The next morning when we awoke, we decided to go get breakfast. We had to settle for Shoney's because nothing else was open. Sundays in Ruston are god's days, make no mistake about it. Shoney's was fairly uneventful except for our waitress, cindy, who apparently liked showing off her homemade tattoo of a heart with an arrow through it. There was that and the fact that I have never seen so much white gravy in my life.

After my weekend in Ruston, I was eager to get back to the land of sin and debauchery that is New Orleans. I was at a friends party where we decided to throw Andrew in the pool. After picking up Andrew, we were nice enough to empty out his pockets and remove his shoes. Of course, as I am standing on the side of the pool, about to throw him in, someone chose not to afford me the same courtesy. So in I went with my phone, my leather wingtips, Andrew's watch and Andrew's keys and alarm. What a fine way to end my weekend. Of course, if anyone tries to call me, it would be good if you left your number as well, seeing as how all of those are lost as well. On the upside, I get a new cell phone for free.

 
What I Did With My Labor Day Vacation

Early Saturday morning, at a time that I rarely see, I left the house with my mother and brother to make the long 5 hour drive to Ruston. That's right, I left New Orleans during the biggest gay holiday, to go to the bible beating lands of north Louisiana. We went to bring my brother up to school. An experience that I will not soon forget.

Let me begin by saying that Ruston is tiny. And very Christian. Namely, not my kind of town. While the entire trip left an indelible mark upon me, I will only regale you with a few tales.

My brother decided to build a loft for his bed to get it off the ground and to give him more space in the room. So we make a trip to the local True Value to buy some 2x4's. We were informed by the random man sitting at the front of the store that they had no 2x4's and that we would have to go to "Muhn-row" in order to get wood. Luckily, this individual felt that he should ask Mr. B (I'm not making that up) if they had any wood anyway. Turns out they had just the right amount. Of course we needed the wood cut. After a brief conversation we were informed that they had a "good cuttin saw" out back and they would do the job for five dollars. Of course, we were slightly wary when the man cutting the wood had his arm in a sling, but he seemed to escape injury free. So off we went to finish building the loft

 
I could just post about my weekend thus far, but seeing as how the pink eye is causing my right eye to begin to swell shut, it would just be to dificult to type. I'm going to put drops in my eye and go to bed. Tomorrow when I can see I will post about my rather odd weekend.

 
Could someone please explain to me who were the geniuses behind Southern Decadence? I can understand why you would choose to have it on a long, holiday weekend such as Labor Day. I can sort of understand why one would think New Orleans, a city of rather flexible moral fibre would be a good place to host it. But the idea of having a five day festival which takes place mostly outdoors or in very tiny, poorly ventilated bars in New Orleans on Labor Day is ri-goddamn-diculous.

Here's an idea, let's take 1000 men, cram them into a tiny bar, where the air conditioning can only be expected to do so much with it being filled to capacity and all the doors being open. And then mix in sweltering heat and 100% humidity. Then repeat for five days. Honestly, Satan himself would think that a bit cruel and not to mention just plain stupid. And to wear leather pants to such an event, well, that natural selection waiting to happen. Come on, New Orleanians take vacations to hell in the summers just to escape the heat.

 
It's official. I have another job. My last day is next Wednesday and I start my new job the following Monday. I think that Thursday may be spent entirely in bed.

I am working at a coffee shop mostly afternoons. The owner seemed excited about hiring me because I have deli management experience. Anyways, this job is not really something that I am all that excited about, except for the fact that it isn't my current job (read: hell). Basically it is something that will allow me to avoid an interruption in my income while I look for something a little better and that I might not completely hate.

Honestly, I am quite thankful that this all worked out the way it did. Everyone is sad to see me go at my current job (especially the owner). And I have managed to find something rather quickly which will sustain me financially while allowing me the freedom to do other things I want.

 
I may have found another job, which means no real interruption of income. More on that later. My back feels like it is on fire so I'm having some yummy Aleve for dinner and going to bed.

 
I did it. I quit my job today. My parents even took me out for a celebratory sushi dinner. I have only two weeks left. Then begins the official job hunt.

 
Tomorrow I finally get the balls to do what I have been bitching about for ages. Tomorrow I am giving my notice at my job. The owner is going to shit himself, probably both figuratively and literally. And I fear, after a few discussions with co-workers, that I will be taking a few people with me. If he decides to fire me on the spot tomorrow, I have one person who intends to walk out the door with me arm and arm.

In other news, I will hopefully be making it over to WTUL tomorrow so I can join James on his radio show for a little while.

And I also have confirmation that I still have a reason to turn my computer on everyday.

 
The internet is slowly becoming a colder, lonlier place. I guess that Melanctha really doesn't live there anymore.

Michelle, If you close up shop I may no longer have a reason to turn on my computer any more. As it is, I am seeing less and less reason to.

 
Today was day 8 in the 12 day stretch of no days off at work. Yay for me! I have GOT to find a new job. Not only have I been working on my days off, but even on the days that the business is closed. Does anyone, by chance, need a cute, loveable, yet slightly neurotic houseboy?

I'm fairly handy, love to cook, and like a variety of literature, music and film. I can even change a tire in a pinch (I'm so butch), which James can attest to.

So, if anyone is looking, I'm available and accepting any and all offers.

 
Not to feed his ego, but everyone should go and check out James' new digs. It purty and fancy and all. I now feel all lonely over here with my blogspot site. I may have to join my sister in codependence and get my own space. (Mainly so I can finally start putting images on my site and so I can feel mildly legitimate). It's something I have been thinking about for a while and just never got off my ass and done. But Movable Type will have to come later down the road.

Oh and James, don't worry, your ghetto booty looks just fine

 
This may be the oddest way to be remembered that I have ever heard of. The inventor of the frisbee wants his ashes molded into memorial frisbees. Will anyone play with these frisbees? That just seems creepy. What is this guy's son going to tell his kids? Let's go play with grandpa? The man had 11 grandchildren. How do you explain to children that grandpa is now dead, but he is still with us in this flying plastic disc?

Link via fark

 
Oddly enough, James asked me one day last week what the name of my inner black woman was. I was lost for an answer. While she manifests herself often and has a very defined personality, I didn't know her name. She never felt the need to tell me I guess. Well, lo and behold, Mo'Nique has revealed the true identitiy of my inner black woman for me...

La'Tavia Cleopatra Thacker

Link via James, just so he'll know

 
Comments are gone because I hated waiting for the site to load. Sorry James, you'll just have to call me or send email.

 
I just saw Amelie for the first time. It was an amazing and beautiful film. Everyone should see it.

It struck a chord about a post I made a little while back about how I need to be more true to myself (I'm not linking it because it's sappy and poorly written). I realize that I like making other people happy, but I rarely am focused on myself. I am a coward and refuse to take any real risks. That is something that needs to change desperately. That's probably why I've had the same job for almost 4 years or why I still live at home (that and the ridiculously large student loan bills I'm paying back). That's probably why I am also unattached and have been for some time. So I am going to make this leap. Not suddenly and not dramatically, but I am going to make it.

 
Today I spent the day in Lafayette watching the ULL Ragin Cajuns football practice for 4 hours. Mind you, when I left the house for Lafayette at 7:30 this morning, I had no idea that was what I was going to be doing.

I was home for all of five minutes when I left to help James finish moving. We then had the most cracked out grocery shopping experience ever. It took us almost 20 minutes to find peanut butter and jelly and we were completely unsuccessful in the corkscrew department, which did not deter James from buying wine. I left James to unpack and rearrange his life and I am now headed to the fridge for a glass of wine and then upstairs for a long hot bath.

 
It's good to know that some people are having a good day even though mine was shitty. At least I know that there is some good in this world, even if I can't see it.

 
I went to get a new tire this morning. While I waited I had two choices of reading options: Trailer Life and Ebony. Guess which one me and my inner black woman chose.

 
Yesterday was good. I ate twice my body weight in free food samples at the New Orleans Foodservice Expo. There were also alcohol samples. That's right boys and girls, TJ got his drink on at a food show, that work paid for. How great is that? About as great as the large cups they were mixing Finlandia Lime and cranberry juice in.

Today though was a different story. While I was prepping salads this morning I sliced not only the lettuce but my thumb. This afternoon, when I finally got a look at it, I realized I probably should have gone to get stitches. I would have at least seen some use from that health insurance I have.

 
What is it with me seeing animals in front yards that don't belong there? When I was in Canada, on two seperate occasions, I saw two ponies walking across The Canadian's yard and then the following evening there was a skunk out and about.

Last night, when I came home at 1:00 am I encountered an armadillo lumbering it's way across my lawn. I just stood there wondering what the fuck was it doing out here. I live in the sterilized and insulated suburb of River Ridge. We have ensured that things like this do not happen. The most wildlife we get are squirrels and mosquitos. I guess that nature will always find some way to perservere.

 
This weekend promises to be pretty decent. Saturday I am making a trip to the convention center for the New Orleans food show. I get to eat to my hearts content for free! I love this part of my job. Then it's off to the airport to pick up a pretty fly suburban white guy. And if he wants to try just a bit more hip and cool, he'll be prepared to be picked up and instantly whisked to the Wherehouse District for White Linen Night. The plan for Sunday is relaxation. Of course, nothing ever goes as planned, so I am expecting chaos, but hoping for the best.

 
Go see My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Now. Go. Why are you still reading this? Just go see the movie. It's hysterical and frightening all at once. I see too many tinges of my own family in this film. Dear God, may I never marry.

 
Has anyone else seen the new show Meet My Folks? For your sake, I hope the answers "no." Baiscally the premise is to take three masochistic guys with low IQ's and get them to try and weasel their way into winning a trip with a girl while her parents watch on and subject them to a lie detector test at then end of the weekend. Proof that this show is the worst that television has to offer is that the winner of tonight's program was a guy who actually slept with the mother of one of his ex girl friends. He was the one her parents picked.

I'd write more, but I have lost too many brain cells to even finish this entry.

 
I am sitting here, feeling lost, listening to David Gray. Oddly enough, I am writing despite the fact that I don't feel like writing at all. All I can say is that I miss Dan (the Canadian). It wouldn't be so bad if I at least knew where I stood. But alas, he has been working orientation all weekend and I haven't been able to even call him. Possibly tomorrow. My luck may change, and then again, maybe not.

PS: I finally got pictures back so the reports of my trip are soon to come.

 
I have mixed feelings about today. I got a replacement cell phone battery for $10 that was supposed to cost $70. However, I have apparently entered a period of self-loathing. I have agreed to go with Kristi, her boyfriend and her sister to the always mediocre Jazzland. Please pray for me. (Not that prayer will work for me. It may just result in me getting struck by lightning. But whatever).

 
Last night was the New Orleans blogmeet. As per usual when geeks meet, geeky ideas come forth. This idea, while good in its infancy has the possibility of spiralling out of control.

While the Blog Con in Vegas is all fine and dandy, would't it be better to go to the real Sin City. And during the biggest free party on earth. That's right, a huge blog gathering at Mardi Gras in the Big Sleazy. Just think about it.

But not too much. We got caught up in the ideas of live feeds, media and liquor company sponsorships, and the inevitability of our blogs getting ri-goddamn-diculous amounts of traffic.

All kidding aside, we have opened Pandora's box, now its time to see the damage it can do.

 
So much for the sleep idea. Instead I decided to (slightly) clean up my sidebar. I have actually changed the CD rotation that was still up there from April and the book I am reading.

I also cleaned up my list of blogs I read. If you were taken off the list don't take it personally. I am only listing the ones I read on a fairly regular basis. I have less time at the computer, and something had to give. And if you really are that bent out of shape, sorry, you'll just have to deal.

**Stay tuned for tomorrow when I will probably have a ridiculously pathetic introspective post. It's still in the works so more on that tomorow**

 
I seem to gave lost my grip on time for the evening. It's mid-July and tonight I found myself helping a friend make 60 king cakes to mail to North Dakota. I think I am just going to go to bed and hopefully re-orient myself

 
Today, John and I had a few drinks and talked about my trip to Canada. More specifically, about what (or who) I left behind in Canada. Sadly, I came to an important and depressing realization about myself.

While at times I may portray myself as being confidant, or at least comfortable with myself, I am not. When it comes to a fairly major decision or I am forced to be truly introspective, I crumble under the pressure. This is probably why I am such a good listener. By listening, I can always be the one to give the advice; I never have to take it. By listening, I never have to open up.

I plan to change that about myself. I know this won't be easy. I know it won't be quick. But it is something I need to do to get myself to the point where I am happy with me. I am done with always being agreeable because it's easier. I'm done with avoiding decisions because I don't want to take the risk or offend someone. I'm done with hiding behind other people's problems so I don't have to face my own.

Basically, this is going to take a lot of work, some of which will manifest itself right here. I apologize in adavance for any future convoluted and unintelligible posts that I might make. But I would also ask that if any of you catch me falling into my old patterns, that you call me on it. I would rather it be pointed out, than everyone just remain nice. I'm am giving everyone the license to be a bitch. Use it wisely.

 
of course its down again

 
So much for updates while I was out of town. I had computer access once while I was in Canada and it was for only thirty minutes. I am currently sitting at an internet kiosk in the Toronto airport. I have to say thta the time off from work was much needed. I definitely had fun, both the good and devious kind. Expect long-winded updates within the next two days about my tip, which will be accompanied with pictures.

If this will actually post, you will also see a long overdue post I wrote when I had access and of course blogger was down.

 
OHMIGOD, can I please live in Toronto, if just for the summers. The weather here is great. The temperatures during the day are sometimes cooler than it ever gets at night in New Orleans. I am loving my trip to Toronto for the most part. It has been good to see Dan and Nicole again. Yesterday I went to the CN Tower where I was forced to lie on the glass floor and take the stereotypical tourist picture. Other than that I have managed to avoid being a typical tourist. Just lots of drinking. I am trying to get used to the idea of a strictly measured drink and open container laws, but am coping. I will definitely have stories to tell when I get back so someone better be ready to go have a drink.

 
"That concludes the heterosexual watersports portion of the evening . . . "
But first, the back story. James and Stefi and I went to the FQ to get have some 4th of Jult drinks. After having spent over an hour in traffic, where we got to watch the fireworks display (off of various reflective surfaces), we were somehow graced with a fantabulous parking spot. This helped to calm my nerves a bit. Just as we arrived at the Pub, I was beginning to settle in and forget about my harrowing traffic experience. That is until I went to the bathroom. When I got into the restroom, I found a woman who was bitching about how she had to urinate and there was no stall. As I was attempting to be polite and nice and explain to her that she could go upstairs where there are two different bathrooms, both of which have stalls, she chose to take matters into her own hands. She merely hiked up her skirt, squatted in the middle of the bathroom, and peed right on the floor, in full view of everyone. Needless to say, after witnessing such an event, compounded with traffic stress, I drank profusely, making me an hour and a half late to work this morning.

 
Today, when I was driving home from work, I saw two kids playing in their front yard with the hose. There are moments when I wish I could go back to that time in my life. When my biggest fear was my brother actually soaking me with the hose. Back when I was enteratined by paint by number and a new box of crayons made my day.

It would be so much easier than dealing with bickering friends and their drama, worrying about other friends developing a coke habit, or navigating to oft disgusting gay community.

But I guess hindsight really is 20/20. Back then, all I could wish for was to be older. Little did I know.

 
Why fight it? I'll join the meme. I am a sheep.

TJ is . . .

born by Patricia Anne Garcia

TJ is the ISO-3166 assigned 2 letter country code domain for Tajikistan

TJ'S is located in Alpine, Wyoming, the perfect winter escape

right.

the random variable corresponding to the j th control measurement

the RHD of a 500-bed residence hall at a large eastern college.

now available in wood and plastic bodies.

staying.

such a mystery that many believe the pony doesn't exist.

 
A Simple Equation

Being in charge at work
A friends wedding
+ A crashed computer
-----------------------
Glad this weekends over

 
I don't know what they were thinking but they left me in charge at work this weekend. The owner's son gets married tomorow and so no one is there to open and close but me. So I am running the show (This is the part where my sadistic inner demon comes out).

Actualy, this is the part where I got really shitfaced Thursday night at one of the many parties for the wedding guests, and showed up to work 30 minutes late. But tomorrow will be a better day. Especially seeing as how I am going to the wedding tomorrow night. It's good to go to receptions where the people throwing them own a liquor store.

 
Rannie has aked that all GLBT bloggers show our pride. So here is my contribution to the meme.

Right after I came out, two of my best friends, who were also gay, decided to take me out for a drink. We went to Good Friends, a local gay watering hole. We were sitting on the balcony talking (mostly interrogating me), when a car passed on the street below, blaring Denise Williams' "Let's Hear It For The Boy." Suddenly, the once quiet men who filled the balcony, erupted in song, ourselves included. It's not that I'm particularly fond of that song or anything, but the experience was great. I had finally found a sense of place, a sense of belonging. For so long I had been uncomfortable with myself and my environment. But at that moment, everything fell into place. I had finally found a place and people who fostered the idea of me being comfortable with myself.

 
We produced over $1000 of food this morning out of a kitchen the size of a shoe box. I am physically broken and repulsed by the sight or thought of food.

On the up side, I have finalized my dates for my trip to Toronto. I'll be there the second week of July. It's the only thing that keps me going. I just keep telling myself, "three more weeks."

 
Soundtrack for a Balmy and Breezy Summer Evening

1. Wilco "Heavy Metal Drummer" (Yankee Hotel Foxtrot)

2. Cass Elliot, "Dream A Little Dream of Me"

3. Dave Matthews Band, "Crash"

4. REM, "Nightswimming"

5. Conversations with a good friend

 
I'm in a bitchy mood today. Really bitchy. I think anyone would be if they had just spent almost 9 hours working in a greasy kitchen, only to come home and ind out that due to construction down the street, their water has been turned off till 10 pm. So I have to sit here greasy, gross, and smelling like onions until 10. Lovely. I just wish I could have an endorphin rush right now. It seems it would make me appreciate the world a lot more right now.

 
I just deleted one of the more disconcerting pieces of junk mail I have seen in a while. The subject read: "Rape & Love like no other." I found that odd seeing as how I have long held the belief that Rape and Love were mutually exclusive concepts

 
James and I went out to be gay last night. We went to the usual haunts. Of course we can't just have a normal evening, or else it wouldn't be blog worthy. Last night at Oz was the wet underwear contest. I must say that it was one of the most tragic things I have seen in a while. We couldn't decide if the host was either not a drag queen at all, or just a drag queen who didn't know how to be one. Essentially she looked like Elton John on really bad acid. The show got no better when the contestents appeared. The first one was fairly skinny and plain and unattractive. He wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been for the perfect Prince Valiant haircut. Believe me, it was scary. The show progresed with the usual parade of middle aged men and chalmations thinking they looked good in wet white underwear. They didn't. Only two of the guys were at all attractive. And of course they split the prize. Otherwise, last night went well.

Today was a different story. All I will say is that we were slammed at lunch and the oven went out this morning. Needless to say, I need a drink and a nap. So I think I will do just that.

 
Up until recently, I thought that work was going well. I have managed to survive my first month as deli manager with very few problems. That is until today. The owner informs me that he wants to try and cut down on the number of people who work doing the day (i.e. lunch). He wants to try and cut it down by a third. This leaves only two of us working in the kitchen (myself included) and one person for delivery. I am not sure how in the hell he plans to accomplish this, but I am sure that it involves making my life a living hell. This means I can no longer have nay meetings with vendors or clients during lunch. It also means that setting up and breaking down the kitchen is going to be a bitch. What I am going to find more interesting is how he is going to react when I go on vacation in July and will not be there for an entire week. I am relishing the secret personal satisfaction I will feel knowing the owner is going to be killing himself trying to get everything done. Maybe then I can at least get one more person in the kitchen.

 
Want to know how my weekend has been? Friday night when I went out, I didn't get home until after the sun had come up. Where was I you ask? At the Pub with a straight friend who gets maried in less than two weeks.

 
Last night was interesting. I spent most of it in the emergency room with James. I am not quite sure how I became everyone's personal tragedy friend, but I have. Whenever someone is mugged, robbed, has their car broken into, has a death in the family, or needs to go to the emrgency room, I am the friend that is called. Hell, half the time, I am the friend that is there when everything happens.

Now don't get me wrong, I love my friends. I wouldn't trade them for anything. And I am truly flattered that they think enough of me to rely on me in their times of need, but give me a break. No, really. They need to realize how draining and depressing it can be to be that friend. All of their problems and depressing shit get dumped on me and that builds up fast. Sometimes, I just need a break. Which is why I am going to Toronto in July. I am going to have a full week of zero responsibility. I can't even imagine. I just hope that all hell doesn't break loose while I'm gone because I can't cope with coming back to such a huge mess.

PS: James, I hope your having fun and that your tooth didn't explode on the plane

 
James is off to San Francisco tomorrow. So all of you bloggers in the Frisco area better treat him right and make sure he gets back to us all in one piece.

 
Not much going on around here right now. I read an interesting article about a hypertext version of Macbeth. I went to the website and wasn't all that impressed by the content. The concept, though, is one that has intrigued me for a while. The fact that hypertext allows a work to be presented in a non-linear fashion is rather fascinating. The idea has implications far beyond a virtual "choose your own adventure." It allows and even encourages a more active reader. Many have criticized the web for dumbing down works and readers alike. But hypertext actually has the ability to invigorate a reader. It forces one to actually think about the choices made both within the text and external to it. Also, readers are armed with quick references. One can really analyze a Shakespearen footnote without having to spend time in a library.

Hypertext also has the ability to liberate an author. An author is no longer to required to create one unified text, but is allowed to create a pastiche or montage with his/her words. While many have created such works on paper, rarely are they embraced by the public at large. That's why John Grisham sells so many books while Faulkner, Hughes, and Burroughs sit on shelves. Not only does hypertext allow for more experimentation, but it is also easier to disseminate it to the public.

And as for the fact that internet fosters stupidity, that is given creedence every day by the fact that sites like this exist

 
Yesterday, John and I managed to spend over $70.00 at the dollar store on stuff for his apartment. I am not quite sure how that happened. I am expecting a note making fun of me for writing that check in my next bank statement.

In other news, work actually seems to be going pretty well. I have managed to squezze quite a bit of money out of my incredibly cheap boss to make much nedded improvements to the coldbox and warehouse spaces for the kitchen. I've bought all new storage containers and shelving units. Next week I am going in for the kill and trying to get new kitchen equipment.

 
Today John and I got the Little Pagan loaded up in a big yellow Ryder truck and on her way back home to Virginia. It was at once the most ghetto moving job and the most butch John and I have been in months.

As a result of the past four days spent taking the Little Pagan out and getting her moved, John and I have decided to start a company. We will be dedicated to making your move as pleasant as possible. It starts with a night of hair dying and a make-over before we take you out for a night on the town. The following day is some basic packing and a nice quiet dinner with friends. The next two days are filled with the antics of two queenie gay boys trying to pack up all of your stuff and load a Ryder truck. Be forewarned, this may involve the mocking of your clothing and belongings, but to balance things out, we will be shady bitches to one another as well.

So whadda ya think? Will it work?

 
I am actually quite surprised how well I seem to be doing in my new position at work. I must admit that I had my doubts about running an entire deli and catering operation. Thus far, there have been no problems. The ordering has gone well, and I've stayed well within my budget. Everyone seems to be getting all of the work done (which is a nice change). I even managed to hunt down our gourmet cheese rep who has been MIA for the past month.

In other good news, my income tax return arrived today, which means I will be buying my plane ticket to Toronto shortly.

Also, who ever is coming to this site looking for a way to email or phone Tobey Maguire, I am sad to say that I don't know how, but even if I did, I wouldn't tell you.

 
Well, I am officially a college graduate. I walked across the stage in the Superdome Saturday evening and was handed my diploma. And, due to my luck, became sick shortly thereafter. I went to Cafe Giovanni with my family where I was freezing and it was established that I probably had a fever. Ignoring the signs of an impending illness, I went out with my friends anyway. This led to me sitting on the floor of d.b.a. huddled inside of my jacket. At 3:30, I officially threw in the towel and tokk a cab back to my car, realizing my attempts to drink away my sickness had been futile. For the next two days, I was unable to eat any solid food due to the fact that my throat had swelled up so much. Leave it to me to wait four years to graduate college, and then get sick so I can't enjoy it.

Don't worry, faithful readers, a trip to the doctor and a perscription of Claritin has made a world of difference, just in time for me to return to the wonderful world of work. Seeing as how I am doing better, post-commencement celebrations will continue throughout the week. Some of you should expect phone calls and emails to this effect. Especially seeing as how a certain someones birthday present arrived today.

 
The Wave Goodbye party got rained out about midway through tonight. Seeing as how I have to be at Loyola for their graduation at 8:00 am, I'm not going out. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Loyola graduation at 9:00 am, my graduation at 4:00 pm, then dinner with the family, and finally a night of drunken debauchery. We are actually planning on getting on the organ donor list for new livers before we go out, so that they will have them waiting for us on Sunday when we need them.

 
This is one of the funniest things I've found in a while. It's the Miss Cleo soundboard, where you can find a collection of sound clips from Miss Cleo. What use are they you ask? To make crank phone calls with, of course.

(link via The Fag Files)

 
Tonight is James' birthday. Shim Sham. 9 pm. Be there. If you can't make it, at least drop him an email.

In other good news, I am going to be helping one of my professors on a video project for the SHINE Awards that are being held later this year in L.A. She said that she couldn't pay me, but I would at least get a credit on the video. Works for me. She also said that she might be able to get me trip to the awards show.

In even more pressing good news, I graduate in two days!

 
Has anyone else heard about the guy who apparently confessed to murder on the radio yesterday?

On the Opie and Anthony show, a radio program out of NYC, a man called up offering a place to stay to one of the shows recurring guests, a homeless woman. When asked about his motives, he said he hoped it would give him the gold star he needed to get into heaven. After pressing him about what he was trying to make up for, he confessed to killing two people in 1977 in a botched drug deal. He then burned the bodies and threw the remains in grabage trucks in the meat packing district.

 
Today has been a good day. I am actually getting things accomplished. I've bought clothes for graduation, cut the grass, finished mailing announcements, burned CD's for some friends and ordered a certain someone's birthday present.

Speaking of presents, it's not too late to get me a gift for graduation, which is only 4 days away.

 
It's every straight womans dream. Five gay men make over one straight guy. The idea sounds interesting, but it seems to me like it might be too much of a niche market for reality TV.

 
I somehow managed to survive the Mother's Day from hell. Basically my mother and I sat together and kept each other from strangling my grandmother, uncle and aunt and consumed copious amounts of wine.


But I'd rather block today from my memory (my aunt went on a diatribe about how homosexuals are evil and are detremined to destroy the family as we know it. Speaking of which, if anyone wants to carpool to the next meeting of the evil gay cabal, let me know). So instead, I will report on the events of last night.


The evening began rather benign. James and I went to see Spiderman. Just so everyone knows, Tobey Maguire is my new boyfriend. He may not realize it, but he is. Before the movie we stopped at Starbucks for coffee so James could meet John. After, we grabbed a bite to eat at Moonlight. It was after this that the evening took an interesting turn. Jonno was supposed to call us when he got home. James and I decided to get a drink in the meantime at the Carousel Bar. Since Jonno had yet to call, and we were relunctant to give up such prime parking on a Saturday night, we wandered around till we decided upon Good Friends.


By pure chance, we ran into James' friend Jonathan, and the previously mysterious Drew. After brief chit chat, we decided to head on over to Rawhide. While there, the conversation turned to sleazy bars, which of course meant the Phoenix was going to surface eventually. James, being the only member who had never experienced the Phoenix, was completely intrigued. So, for purely ethnographic purposes, we trekked on over. After having gathered more than enough information or the National Gepgraphic article, we decided it was best to head home around 4:00 am. To an extent, I am kind of glad that Jonno didn't call.

 
I'm finished. I turned in my last paper this afternoon. My undergraduate career as I know it is over. Now I just have to kill time until next Saturday when I graduate.

 
"You guys have written so much bad stuff about me, I can't remember the last time I fucked a decent woman," Tyson recently told a Memphis sports writer, according to the New York Post.

Or maybe it's the fact that women are generally turned off by complete psychos. Or maybe they don't particularly like the asymetrical look of having only one ear.

 
Has anyone else seen the commercial for the MTV Video Music Awards that uses the Peaches song Rock Show? Does this mean that Peaches is now officially passe?

 
Tonight was the season finale for The Osbornes. I guess that I will have to look to own dysfunctional family for entertainment until the second season premeires.


Speaking of which, Mother's Day is fast approaching. This should prove to be an interesting experience as usual. We always go wherever my grandmother wants, which usually thrills my mother. My grandmother also makes it a point to order the most expensive thing on the menu, leaving my mother feeling guilty about ordering anything that is remotely expensive. She told me yesterday that all bets are off. She will order the lobster even if she has to take most of it home. She explained to me that when my father asked her where she wanted to go, she came so close to telling him "Does it really matter?" She decided that it would be more tactful to just say she didn't care. I am sure that my uncle, whom we speak to once or twice a year (foor good reason) will also be in attendence with his wife who is twenty years younger than him. I usually wind up trying to kill myself with the dessert spoon before dinner is half-way through. Of course, my brother has managed to be unable to make it home from school to come from dinner so I have to go it alone (You will pay for this, Bryan). If I don't make any posts after Sunday, it means I'm dead.

 
comments have been temporarily disabled until I can figure out why the new comment code is disabling my sitemeter.

 
I just got bored with the old layout. I thought I'd try something new. If you don't like it at all, don't worry, it will probably change soon anyway

 
There is a dove that has built a nest on the column on my front porch outside the front door. This is despite the fact that my father tried twice to destroy the nest. But it kept coming back. Now it's here to stay seeing as how there are eggs in the nest.

It seems that every year there is a dove nesting there. Eventually, they get used to our comings and goings and stop flying away every time someone is on the porch. It's nice having the doves there. It's magical for some reason every year when the eggs finally hatch and there are little fledgelings chirping away.

It's also sad because every year, the cats from next door always manage to kill some of the babies. It's inevitable that one day I will come home to a dead baby dove on the front porch. Maybe this year, though it will be different. Maybe this year all of the babies will mature and fly away.

 
"Brothel Locks Doors After Sailors Exhaust Prostitutes" Do headlines get any better than this?

(link via Zapology)

 

The Completely Pointless Personality Quiz

Damn. My secret has finally been revealed.

 
One down, two to go. I turned in my first final yesterday, albeit alittle late, but I am so apathetic to this whole school thing right now it's not even funny. Now I just have a final on Monday and another paper due Friday and I will officially be a college graduate.

But right now I am going to sit in front of the TV like a beached whale since I just consumed enough sushi to feed a small third world country.

 
I find Bush's proposal for urging impoverished single mothers to marry in order to rise out of poverty appalling. It is even more disgusting that he is using $300 million to do it.

The plan strikes me as being a bad idea no matter how you look at it. For one, as is pointed out in this article, it is basically going to allow Bush to get his way on the faith based initiatives, with most of the money going to churches and other religious groups who promote marriage.

The thing that bothers me the most about it though is that it is OK in his mind for heterosexuals to marry for what are essentially tax purposes, but allowing homosexuals to marry destroys the sanctity of marriage. Can someone explain this line of reasoning to me?

The idea that the president thinks it is acceptable to take $300 million away from the welfare program to promote marriage is ridiculous. He is hurting an already underfunded program. Why it's better to promote marriage rather than offer job training, better public housing, or day care is beyond me. Also, who does he think that he is, trying to tell single mothers what is best for them. Dan Quale tried that before with his criticism against Murphy Brown, and that wound up biting him in the ass. Why isn't anyone saying anything this time?

 
Apparently Oprah has already found something to replace her bookclub with. Now she's spreading the love to video stores

 
Today was my first day of real pseudo-freedom. Classes are officially over and I wasn't on the schedule at work. Basically, the world was my oyster (minus the fact I have a big paper due thursday. I love procrastination). I realized that since I am putting off grad school for a year, I am going to need to do something to fill my time.

I've decided that my education won't just stop. I will continue learning, just without tests and papers. Over the next year, I plan to read all the books I've been meaning to, and even ones that I haven't. The same goes for movies. I also plan to get out and see more. When NOMA has an interesting exhibit, I plan to actually go see it as opposed to saying I will and putting it off until it's gone. I also am going to make a point to go see more interesting music and shows. Last December, I went with some friends to see The Vagina Monologues. It's something I wouldn't have normally done, but I am glad I did. I need to do more things like that.

Basically, in this next year I plan to make myself a more intelligent, well-rounded, culturally and socially aware person. I realize that this sounds like a new years resolution which will be forgotten within a month. But I actually plan to stick to some semblence of this resolution. I mean, what else am I going to do, party and drink all the time?

 
I was just going through my mail and found a piece of junk mail from AT&T offering legal services. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think it's wise to sign up for legal services if the incentive to do so is a free stereo.

 
Last night I went out with James. We grabbed a bite to eat at La Peniche where James didn't realize that when he ordered the meatloaf, he would be getting an entire loaf of meat.

Then we went to see Y Tu Mama Tambien at Canal Place which boiled down to softcore Mexican porn. While we were waiting for the movie to begin, we noticed that the guy sitting across the aisle from us had a tattoo on his arm, but only the letters "RY" were visible. We tried to guess what the rest of the tattoo was. The best we could come up with was that it read "I TRY" and that he probably had Macy Gray's head tattooed on his back. We can only hope.

 
I think I may have actually learned that it is not a good idea to go out drinking all night when I have work at 9 the next morning. I hate dragging myself through a whole day of work on three hours of sleep nursing a hangover.

At 4 this afternoon I came home, watched S Club 7 on tv and then crashed till 8. What am I up to now you ask? I am going out to drink. Do I have work tomorrow morning? Of course.

 
Well classes are officially over. That leaves two papers and a final and I am completely done with school. I am headed to 80's night at the Shim Sham tonight to celebrate.

Days till graduation: 23

 
It all seems to be coming together so nicely. Tomorrow is my last day of class and my last final is on May 10th. Tomorrow I am ordering my cap and gown, and I currently have half my announcements addressed. I less than a month I will officially be a college graduate. I think I have finally gotten to the point where I feel that I do deserve that diploma. I spent four years working my ass off to come out of it with a double major and a minor. And I think I actually learned a few things to boot.

I'm not getting too comfortable yet though. Whenever things seem to be going this well, someone always manages to pull the rug out from under me. I'm just waiting for my cap and gown to be missing at graduation, or my name to be missing from the roster. More likely, my computer will crash as I am printing out a final paper and all hell will break loose. Basically, I'm just waiting for tragedy to strike.

Despite that, the countdown has begun: 24 days till graduation.

 
Wylie Gustafson: rancher, roper, country singer, yodeler, sues Yahoo.

 
Reason 237: Why I Love New Orleans

Today, when I opened my front door, I was met by the faint smell of ligustrum which seems to pervade the city at this time of year and a large, hulking man in high-waders who produced a dead jumbo shrimp for my inspection. He was selling them out of the back of his truck. And none of this even phased me.

 
In honor of Billy Shakespeare's birthday, try your Shakespeare knowledge on this quiz from The Guardian. If nothing else, it's a test that actually tests for more than which muppet I am. (That probably explains why I got a 6 out of 15).

 
Decisions, Decisions

I am in a bit of a conundrum. Today my current job made me an offer to stay and not work at Semolina. Essentialy I was offered the salaried position of deli manager. This would mean more work, but also more money. I would only have to work Monday to Friday 9-5. No weekends. Plus we're closed for all major holidays. They, however, do not have benefits. Semolina on the other hand, is just waiting tables and they do have benefits. Also, it's not an everyday 9 to 5 job.

What do I want to do? I am taking a year off before I go to grad school and am not really sure what type of job I am looking for. If I take the deli manager job, it will help me save up to move when I go to grad school, possibly abroad. The waitstaff job is less stress though.

What do you think I should do? I open to any suggestions.

 
Happy Anniversary to the both of you.

 
I had an aural orgasm tonight. I went to see THEM perform for their last concert of the year. James performed beautifully at his solo. I even got goosebumps when they did "wide Open Spaces by the Dixie Chicks. I'm not sure if it was the A/C, the amazing performance or maybe it's just because of where I am in life right now.

That's right, I have four days left of class in my undergraduate career. Four days and I'm free, I'm excited . . . I'm scared. I'm slowly beginning to realize that I too, am about to be forced to explore some of my own wide open spaces. I have spent my life up to this point in the comfortable little world I call home. Now I am going to be forced to go out on my own. I have a feeling that this is going to be at once both exciting and frightening. This means that I week from now expect a total meltdown of a post.

 
I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am right now. I got all of my homework done early. As a result, I am leisurely sitting here, eating the empanadas that Ana brought me for taking her shift on Saturday. My hands are getting the keyboard all greasy as I type, and I don't even care. I am so thankful that her fiancee doesn't eat cuban food. I get all of the leftovers when her parents cook.

 
There is no way on god's green earth that this is for real.

(link via Yeah, Totally)

 
I scored a 15 out of 16 on the Female or Shemale quiz. How well can you do?

(link via Jonno)

 
I HATE BLOGGER!

 
Today, the good people at Semolia offered me a job. This means that tomorrow I get to go and quit my current job. That ought to be lots of fun. Wish me luck.

 
Semolina called me today about a job interview. I had given up all hope since they were supposed to have called almost two weeks ago. I guess that it's a good sign that they called at all though. If I'm lucky, I'll get this job and I won't have to sell my soul to the evil corporate world a la Starbucks. They do have really good beneits though.

 
Last night I went to see the latest Running With Scissors production, Hell's Belles. Unfortunately, I had to go it alone last night. As I was getting ready to leave, James called to inform me that he and Kaytie had to bail (They had a perfecly good reason to). Despite that, I did have a good time. Someone cancelled their reservations, so Jonno kindly offered me a seat in the front row. The play was hysterical as per usual for a RWS production (Richard, you don't have to be so modest all of the time).


I wish I had known that Drew was going to be there last night. I would have made a point to introduce myself.


After the show, I met some friends at the Blue Nile, which I recommend, but only for the fabulous furniture. Of course, we did have to make a little trip to Cafe Brasil to hopefully meet up with the cute boy I had given directions to earlier in the evening. Alas, he was a no show.


After being crushed at his absence (no, not really), I headed over to Gerald's where there were questions about whether the body on the sidewalk down the street even existed. After we confirmed it did, it had to be determined if it was dead or not. Sadly, it was merely a person passed out. No real excitement there. After about an hour more of video games, I too felt the need to retire, said my goodbyes, and headed home.

 
I seriously need to change my diet. I am not sure what I ate before I went to bed last night, but dear god, were my dreams fucked up.

I had a dream that we were at a friends house who lives in Canada. We were all swimming in a pond in her backyard (which she doesn't have). I kept diving to the bottom and retrieving things that looked as if they were from a shipwrecked Spanish galleon like lanterns and chests and dishes and such. Lots of things made of wrought iron. Next thing I know I am standing at the edge of the pond as it is being drained. Someone leans over and whispers to me, "There's all sorts of things buried in that pond. God knows what you'll find. And unless you're a former First Lady, you won't find it all."

Where the fuck did that last bit about the First Ladies come from. I haven't been watching the West Wing or anything. When I awoke this morning, all I could picture was Barbara Bush and Rosalynn Carter in full scuba gear diving to the bottom of a murky pond.

Just thought I would let all of you share in my insanity.

 
Here's a way to make you feel really good about yourself. At 22, I've apparently done nothing. I guess I better get started.

 
Well someone asked, so prepare to be bored:

The paper I am doing on blogging is about how the internet, and blogs in particular have become sites for 21st century non-gendered flanerie. I am even going to push the idea of global flaneries that the internet enables through a post modern idea of time-space compression.

oooh, I'm so wild, so exciting.

 
Believe it or not, I am going to make this whole blog thing work for me. I am going to do a research paper on the blog phenomenon. (I won't bore you with the details, unless you want me too).

 
Walking affirms, suspects, tries out, transgresses, respects, etc., the trajectories it "speaks." All the modalities sing a part in this chorus, changing from step to step, stepping in through proportions, sequences and intensities which vary according to the time, the path taken and the walker. These enunciatory operations are of an unlimited diversity. Michel de Certeau, "Walking in the City"


It's flashes of brilliance and beauty like this that keep me wanting to be a student. It's things like this that always remind me I should never stop learning.

 
Dear God, I was such a prolific link whore yesterday.

 
The overwhelming majority have actually involved abuse by male priests of male adolescents. While this in no way lessens the harm done to the victims, it does better identify the underlying problem. We are not dealing with priests who abuse pre-pubescent children, that's what pedophilia is, that behavior, Jenkins writes, is likely to be deeply obsessive and very hard to cure. Instead we are dealing primarily with homosexual abuse of adolescents

Not to burst anyone's bubble, but pedophilia and homosexuality are completely different phenomenons. Pedophilia is a "sexual perversion in which children are the preferred sexual object." A pedophile is a human being who is predisposed to this type of behavior. Interestingly enough, the percentage of heterosexuals who are pedohiles is actually much higher than homosexuals.

(link via Jill Matrix)

 
I stand corrected. This is the biggest piece of inane bullshit I have ever read.

(link via freakgirl)

A). She sometimes goes by Princess von Erlaheim??? Whatever.


B). She is struggling with the fame of being his girlfeind? I'm sorry but, look who she regularly hangs out with.


C). Sorry, but . . . he's gay.

 
The other night at d.b.a. I read an interesting piece of bathroom graffiti. It read "free yourself from yourself." It occured to me that might be some of the most inane bullshit I have ever encountered. Basically, it is an overly eloquent way of telling someone to end thier existence. How either depressed or fucked up does someone have to be in order to think to write that on a wall? I'm sure that they thought it was witty or profound. I guess I hadn't consumed enough alcohol to feel the same way.


And in other news . . .


Someone tell the people in Brazil to lighten up.


And in still other news. . .


Finally, an explanation for my unexplained attraction to Justin Timberlake, who has apparently been quite depressed lately.

 
As promised here are just a few tidbits from my night last night with the crazy pagan:

1. She apparently found herslef in Cedars-Siani having a conversation with Frank Sinatra as he was laying on a gurney having a heart attck.

2. At some point in her life she played soccer with Robert Smith from the Cure. And apparently kicked his ass.

3. As a child she would go on limo rides with her father in New York (despite the fact she lived in Virginia) and he would tell her how horrible homeless people are. To this day she is still scared of them.

I had four and a half hours of stories just like this. That's right four and a half hours of completely contrived bullshit. There were points where I wanted to rip off her arm and beat her into submission with it. I figured not only would she probably shut up, but would also become and urgent case at that point and we would be admitted immediately.

Unfortunately, I didn't. However, John did save all of my strung out voice mail messages just in case I need them for evidence in court.

 
This confirms what I've always thought . . .

	You are Gonzo! You're a bit loopy, and many people have trouble figuring out exactly what you're supposed to be. You take pride in your eccentricity and originality.
Take the What Muppet Are You? Quiz!

And I'm not talking about the eccentric bit. I am talking about the fact that I am blue and fuzzy and have a big nose.