Yesterday I woke from a dream in which I was chased by a mob of angry, humorless lesbian feminists with baseball bats. I think I caught a glimpse of Valerie Solanas amongst the throng. Unnerving, to say the least.
Had dim sum with Kirk and Melanie at Wong's King - old times revisited. This time I didn't bring a flask of whiskey and pour it into my teacup like I did years ago, last time I was there. The server girls get to wear cute violet colored uniforms. While waiting to be seated we stepped next door to an Asian video store and made ourselves Obnoxious White People by laughing at the poorly translated English titles of the films. I didn't mean to be rude, but let's face it, that shit is funny. My favorite movie title: "Grapeplantation the Man" (photo above, in case you don't believe me). "Grapeplantation" being one word.
Later I introduced Kirk to the majestic cathedral of booze, juicy burgers, redneck rock and free wifi that is Sam's Billiard's in the Hollywood District. When I had my own apartment (the Melcliff, kitty-corner from Holocene) my bar of choice was My Father's Place, within easy walking distance. Ditto the Florida Room when I lived in the QuArtHouse. Now it's Sam's, two easy MAX stops from my house on scenic 82nd Ave. It was Ms. Su'ad who introduced ME to that place years ago, when I was a blonde knave doing data entry for a corporate litigation firm on the outskirts of Lake Oswego.
Got the new issue of OUT. More blather about Sam Adams and his immensely overanalyzed sex life, featuring quotes by Ms. Davis and Mr. Beck, the leading mouthpieces of our queer community. (Note to self: START BEING OLD, so people will pay attention to you.) Also a good article on the new movie about Federico Lorca and his relationship with Salvador Dali, featuring an interview with cover boy Javier Beltran.
I was stunned to hear that Jaymee and Jim, respectively the news and A&C editors of Just Out, have left the paper. What does this mean? Is this the end of Just Out as we know it? A harbinger of the end of print media in general as we know it? I'm glad I have so many different irons in the fire. It's one more sign to me that I've picked the right time to leave Portland, though. It feels like the end of a cycle.
When a door closes, a window of opportunity opens.
I was able to fix much of the Hat Party footage using 3-way Color Corrector in the Video Effects menu of Final Cut Pro. 3-way Color Corrector, I salute thee from the bottom of mine empty goblet.
Years ago during the QuArt days Sam Adams came to a couple of our art shows and behaved flirtatiously towards me, and people asked me why I didn't respond, and I said even though he's an attractive man and it was certainly flattering, the fact is I just don't have the Daddy Complex that many gay guys have. I don't want the bigger, older, hairy man to wrap his lovin' arms around me. I go for the skinny pretty boys myself. I told Dylan last time we hung out, "I'm like a twink-daddy or something. A combination of the two." (His new metal band, Cull, goes on tour next week - he gave me a beautiful copy of their new CD with an awesome lyric book.) I have more than one type, and am attracted to guys both younger and older than me at times, but based on my experience so far I'd have to say my LEADING type is the skinny, pretty boy with dark hair and pale skin. (Ben W. of course being the prime example.)
It's amazing that it's taken me so long to figure all this out, but that's what happens when you spend a decade associating with chemical substances rather than people.
My cousin just told me about Rick and Steve: The Happiest Gay Couple, a show on the Logo channel that's done entirely with Legos and Lego people. He's taking me to see Cheech and Chong's live appearance a couple nights after I arrive!
I borrowed Kirk's scale to weigh my bags for the airport, and was elated when I stepped on it myself this morning and found that I weigh 185 lbs. Before I left for Glacier last summer I tipped the scale at a beefy 200 lbs. It's hard to believe that I've lost 15 POUNDS since then, but as they say, numbers don't lie. It's all the more impressive since muscle weighs more than fat, and I have gained muscle just this month, since I started pilates. All that sweat is paying off.
Maybe when I get to San Francisco I'll just start having a lot of (safe) sex, and that can take the place of exercise.
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