Sometimes I'm Almost an Adult

After Monday's mayhem, I took Tuesday night off from the Castro. My friend came over, and we tried to set up my DVD player. After a lot of wire changes and a (needless) trip to Best Buy to replace the DVD player, my buddy decided to read the book. With actual instructions, we got it hooked up to my new TV through my amplifier in a matter of minutes. We watched Batman Begins, which was pretty cool, and I got to bed early.

Which means I got up early -- so I cleaned up a little and ran some errands, including a trip to Barnes & Noble. I have been getting flack from a number of people for not having read The Da Vinci Code. As a literate liberal Catholic who likes bubble gum novels, everyone seems to expect that I have read it. I have, in fact, tried to read the thing, but it seems to have an interesting power. Everyone tells you to read it, and everyone offers to let you borrow it. When the offer is accepted, though, it turns out that all of them have already loaned it to someone, and they can't remember to whom, and they can't get it back. If I ever write a novel, I hope I can learn this trick, as it seems a sure way to increase sales.

I realized this mystic power some months ago, but figured I would wait until it came out in paperback. Unfortunately, it seems that this will never happen. I feel like at least two Harry Potter and five Robert Parker novels have come through hard cover to paperback while I have been waiting for a floppy version of Dan Brown's tale. I finally gave in and bought the thing after reading Newsweek's write-up of the movie, for two reasons: (1) I wanted to enjoy the characters my brain generated before they had to look like Tom Hanks and the rest of the cast, and (2) with the hype from the movie, I was guessing they wouldn't make a paperback now.

So I went jogging in the afternoon, and then started reading as the skies darkened. I broke for dinner around 6:00, and afterwards cracked a bottle of wine and threw a Duraflame on the fire. It was a perfectly gray and chilly evening for a fire and a slightly spooky novel. I finished at about 3 AM and went to bed. It was a pleasant read -- I give it a 7. I don't think it should win a Pulitzer, but I'd recommend it, and I think it should make a decent move. I loved the European history, geography, art, and science woven through the book -- but what else would you expect from a hopeless romantic and aspiring Renaissance man?

Eschewing the Castro for a glass of red wine, classical music (from my new digital cable), dying embers, and a book made me feel almost mature. Not so mature, however, that I didn't go shoot some pool tonight -- but that's because I never got a return phone call and therefore did not go to the movies tonight (see last post). Alas. To quote a better novel, though, "Tomorrow is another day".

God Damn Chickens

I had the beginnings of about 8 posts before this one, but I just haven't gotten there. I had to vent this one now. Before we get down to business:

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Festive Festivus!

Now, onto my evening. Has your mother ever told you to be careful, because your "chickens would come home to roost"? Well all of mine seemed to show up tonight.

I went out out with my friend, allegedly for a few drinks before he came back to help me eat the left-overs from my X-mas dinner yesterday. I'd do this in bullet points, but I haven't yet figured out how to do that. So here we go.

1) I went to Moby Dicks to play pool. It was dead, so I went to the BoC (Bar on Castro). Only one bartender was working on a busy night. I have his digits in my cell, and it still took forever to get a drink (mind you, not his fault). I ran into a co-worker who was surrounded by about six cute guys. I demanded introductions -- and naturally the one I thought was hot was the only married one of the bunch.

2) Eventually we went to Badlands. I quickly ran into the bouncer with whom I had flirted a few nights ago. He was still interested, but I was briefly more intrigued by the hot model I had met at BoC who also seemed interested. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a drunken flake (but God was he HOT). Fortunately, the bouncer/bartender is pretty damn hot, too.

3) Then I ran into the cutie I took home a few nights ago. He also still seemed interested.

4) Then I ran into the a gorgeous boy I actually dated (once), on whom I had given up. Turns out he lost his cell phone, and wanted to go out again. He is gorgeous, sweet, and runs a day care. Note, this went down near the boy (3) I had taken home. And it turns out they know each other. But I may still be going to the movies on Thursday. Cross your fingers for me.

5) Then I ran into quite possibly the hottest guy I know, with whom I have wanted to find a way to get for about 2 years. My timing sucks. I found out he was single just in time to meet his new boyfriend. It's been quite a few months, but they're still together. Oddly, his boyfriend was talking to #6.

6) On the way out of Badlands, I saw a guy checking me out, who was hot, and whose T-shirt I had commented on earlier. He seemed interested, but not so interested that he could break away from his "cousin". Weird. The cousin is leaving soon, and he wanted to see me later. Hmmm.

7) All the while, one of the nicest and cutest boys I have ever met has been texting me. I hadn't heard from him in ages, but he sent me a Christmas note, and we've been chatting since.

My head is presently spinning at how good or bad this could get. I'll keep you posted on which of these bridges are torched, and which are taking me somewhere. Happy Holidays -- and there is more to come.

Reaching Nirvana

Originally, this post was going to be called "catharsis", but my night got rapidly better, so here we are.

To whine briefly, I had a tough week. I worked ten days in a row, and for bizarre reasons, I had to work the night between days nine and ten. Needless to say, I was ready to go out Sunday, and my colleague covered my pager, so I got to have fun. I had a bunch of drinks Sunday, hooked up Sunday night, went to wine country on Monday, and made cookies on Tuesday. In short, I did just about everything that makes me feel better (except for seeing family). For those who don't believe I can cook, here are the cookies (and there are more to come) on the dining room table.

If, perhaps, you think that I would buy cookies and splay them out to impress, here are the kitchen and living room I still have to clean. My old roommate always said it looked like the apartment "exploded cookies". I miss the fact that he would clean after I cooked.

After making cookies all day, I took a batch to The Mix for my favorite bartenders, and well as a personal selection for the hottie mentioned in the last blog. There seemed to be some good conversation, but someone interrupted with stories of their new digs. Alas. But another cutie reminded me that it was Trannyshack night, and was willing to let me tag along again.

It was an even better show than usual, with a lot of soul music and a Julie Andrews set that I adored. It was arranged by Juanita More, of whom I'd heard much. After the show, she was giving away tickets to her New Year's Party to boys who would show their ass on stage. I shook a little booty since I was near the stage, but I wasn't going to drop trow, which was required for the tickets.

As the night was winding down, I was introduced to Ms. More. She said she was hoping I would get on stage for tickets. Yes, Juanita More wanted to see MY ass. That's when the title changed from Catharsis to Nirvana. If only my friend who first told me about Ms. More had been there. Again, alas. (But you can still have some cookies.)

To top it off, I finally talked to the gentleman with whom I came (nay, arrived), and there might be something there. He talked about going out sometime this week. If that doesn't work, someone to whom I gave my number has already called.

I win. For now. Between you, me, and the internet, though, I'd still rather take the boy for whom I made extra cookies out to dinner. I'd be upset that he left the bar with a guy, but as Christina Aguilera would say, you "can't bring me down today".

A Midwinter's Tale

Picture it, Russian Hill, 2005...

On a cold December evening, two young men wander hand-in-hand through Pacific Heights. On their way to a view of the bay on Green Street, they find a Festivus pole.

Seinfeld fans both, they air their grievances, and deepen their desire. They walk down the Green Street stairs, headed to no certain destination. As the cold San Francisco drizzle worsens, they notice shelter from the worsening rain under the shrubs and trees on the hill. They start back up the stairs, planning their own Festivus feats of strength, and making preparations along the way. They litter their passion along the steps before slipping to dreamland in each others arms. Roused by the morning construction, they escape together before the parade of commuters ascend the stairs toward another day on the treadmill.

THE END

For those of you wondering "Joel, what the hell brought that on?"...here's the story behind the story. I walked those stairs yesterday on my way to day 5 of 10 straight (nay, sequential) days at the hospital. When I saw the condom wrapper, I bemoaned the number of people out there having more fun than me. I get a kick out of making stories up around random things I see, and once I walked by an honest to God Festivus Pole (if such a thing there be), a story was born.

For those of you who think my story telling sucks...tough. Keep in mind that I damn near failed the one Creative Writing course I took. My TA said my writing was too precise, and that I should try to use more diction with my characters. Then she told me my use of diction was too consistent. I gave up.

For those of you wondering why it wasn't raunchier, I have one word...Mom. Mine hasn't found my blog yet, but based on the experiences of my friends, it's probably just a matter of time. I think we're all clear about the feats of strength, and perhaps length, without further definition.

For those of you wondering about the rest of my day...thanks, that's sweet. Unfortunately, the cosmos continued to spotlight the kind of fun that I don't have time for right now. I celebrated the half way point of my 10 days by accompanying a friend to the Castro for a few drinks. I ran into my Thanksgiving hottie boy again, who gave me a kiss and seemed, perhaps, still interested. But NOOO, I had to work early today. So I left, only to see the following on my way out of the Castro.
I thought of quitting my steady job to moonlight on an "I need money" basis. Having reread my story, though, I realize I'd better keep my day job. I'll continue to get what fun I can out of blogging my way through a few glasses of wine (again, This is NOT medical advice) until Monday night. Or Sunday, if my I can get my darling colleague to take the pager again. Tuesday, I'm baking my Christmas cookies. Domestic yes, but there is a certain someone that I've heard is recently single, and he's known to be approachable through his stomach. Wish me luck.

Chairs and Chairmen

I was going to write a short post about my new furniture, but that was Saturday. Since I didn't get around to it for a week, and there are some other things I wanted to mention, you're getting the usual stream of consciousness with a loose titular connection. If you just want to see the rest of the new furniture, skip to the end. I'm going to make my other points first.

The Chair of St. Peter reiterated this week that gay men shouldn't be priests. They did leave the door open for men who have overcome homosexual tendencies, if they haven't been part of gay culture (whatever the hell that means). Disappointing, but no big surprise -- though the phrase "judge not lest ye be judged" comes to mind. What really got my goat is when Alias, now officially (and tragically) in its last season, was preempted by a biopic on John Paul II. (Picture from www.omm.org)

A shout out to Marine General Peter Pace, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. I was raised in a pacifist Democratic household, where we were generally taught that it was important to have civilian control as a check on the military. These days I'm more suspect of the civilian command (read politicians), and I'm glad the military commanders, as well as the men and women on the ground, are keeping honor in the establishment. Case in point: a recent press conference during which Secretary Rumsfeld suggested that U.S. troops should REPORT any acts of torture performed by Iraqi soldiers. With Sec. Rumsfeld still on stage, Gen. Pace argued that military personnel should and would physically STOP acts of torture, not just report them. Hard to claim the moral high ground while watching acts of torture. Which brings us to...

...1,000 executions in this country since 1977. Many of these were in the electric chair, though most states use something else now, since electrocution is "cruel and unusual punishment". Number 1,001 is scheduled for Dec. 13th here in California. I hope Gov. Schwarzenegger, who added the word Rehabilitation back to the Department of Corrections, will find a reason to commute Stan William's sentence. (Kudos to Gov. Mark Warner, who commuted a death sentence because evidence that might have been tested for DNA had been destroyed.)Again -- judge not lest ye be judged. (Photo from www.ccadp.org)

As to the question of who should be a judge, Senator Arlen Specter, Chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, had some comments about Supreme Court nominee Samuel Alito. Despite comments in 1985 (I'm paraphrasing) that the constitution doesn't guarantee the right to an abortion, and a role in helping the President Reagan's administration attack the Roe vs. Wade decision, Sen. Specter seems to believe he could be impartial on the issue. I hope he's right, and I'd like to believe him, but he's been known to invent odd theories to fit the facts.

Can you say "magic bullet", children? I knew you could. (Picture from www.jfk-assassination.de)

Back to the furniture. Here is the sofa, which I slept on the night I got it. Next to it is the leather bench/ottoman/coffee table I am anxiously awaiting from Oysterbed. I got my dining set there as well. Pretty nice stuff at reasonable prices, and the woman who works there is a sweetie. If you need furniture, check them out at www.oysterbed.com -- I think they ship.

As always, comments are welcome. For you who are wondering, I haven't contacted the man in Cleveland. But someone from Cleveland read my blog -- I can dream, can't I. Someone from the US State Department also read it -- so my paranoia may be reasonable, if misplaced, and I will continue to criticize politicians using the utmost respect.

The most helpful comments this time would be y'all's opinion on this: What color/kind of carpet should I get to go with teak floors, olive microfiber furniture, a leather ottoman, off white walls, and a brick fireplace? (Or is it already hopeless?) I'm leaning towards a dark orange shag, but interior design is not my forte.

If you're wondering about the photo credits/links, my blogging guru said it was more responsible blogging. If you want to see a real blog, check him out at www.chadfox.com (though I think most of you got here from there). I'm working the next 10 days straight (well, consecutively), so I may try to spend more time in Blogland, and less at Badlands. Be afraid, be very afraid.