Goldilocks and the three laptops

Spent some time at the Fireside Coffee Lodge yesterday, which kind of has the feel of a hostel. Actually with the fireplace and all the stout hairy men it kind of feels like “Goldilocks and the Three Bears,” except that Goldilocks is nowhere in sight, and the three bears are fixated on their laptop computers. I’m waiting for a call back from Kevin Reedy and still brainstorming questions for “Daddy Donner” about How To Be A Gay Porn Star. I put the Sluts and Squares performers in touch with Pat, who will hopefully line them up for the Hat Party, and in so doing I’ve realized that I’m pretty good at this connecting-people thing, juggling different people I know in my mind and thinking “you would work good with so-and-so,” and I’m thinking that may be a career path I should pursue, a way to make money while I devote my free time to various creative endeavors of my own. Meghan said she read a book recently by a guy who talks about different personality types and the “connector” type, which I guess I am, is not something everyone has, it’s a talent.

Prior to getting caffeinated at the Fireside I dropped off the final version of What I Really Want Is at Minuteman (man I hate the #72 bus, the one that runs along 82nd Ave: always crowded, always the most depressing collection of people imaginable), so I will soon have 50 copies hot off the presses to give away and sell. I’d like to give away half at my going away gathering and sell the rest for $5 each, that way I may just make back printing costs. I got off the #4 bus on Division and 35th and walking south to Powell I passed a house that had an upside-down mannequin embedded in the yard with her legs pointing straight up to heaven – photo above. Texted Melanie to say they were playing Grey Gardens free at Pix Patisserie – I happened to be walking very near her old house (still her house, but no one’s living there right now, weirdly).

Posted my list of things to sell and give away on Craigslist and within minutes had several people inquiring especially about the Super 8 camera, which I realize now I should’ve sold instead of given away, I just figured they’re so old people can’t really use them any more, but the kids who ended up picking it up (along with the desk and lamp) said they saw one go for $50 just the other day. Oh well, I got it free, I pass it on free and share the wealth. They seemed like nice kids who’ll put it to good use. It is so nice to get rid of stuff. Only the office chair left now, and then the “for sale” stuff, which of course is going to be harder to unload. Scott is taking my bike pump for $30. I left Fireside at 4pm to meet Kirk at the Berlin Inn for happy hour – we had the whole place to ourselves. Kirk pointed to this club called Blue Dragonfly that we could see from our window and asked if I’d ever been in there, and the waitress coming by told us about the one time she went there and had a really bad time, and they cut her off even though she wasn’t drunk, because she was dancing like a hippie – I guess it’s a reggae/dance hall/hiphop joint, but they don’t like hippies. I picked up a bottle of gluhwein from Edelweiss on the way out (I’m taking a little break from sobriety...but no more heavy drinking.) After Berlin we stopped by Biddy’s for a pint and Kirk took more of his glass-enhanced photos of me. At home I got stuff ready for the guys who were coming to pick it up, and now a lot of nice space is opening up in my room. Lucy, of course, is getting nervous.

I sketched my future plans for both Kirk and Scott: Maui for six months, then San Francisco, then maybe I’ll dip down into South America for awhile, polish up my Spanish, maybe visit the rain forest where Terence McKenna and his brother had the experiences detailed in True Hallucinations, then stop by New York for awhile, visit some people I know there, then across the pond to England, where I’ll investigate Bloomsbury and Hogarth House and other haunts of Virginia Woolf (ending of course at the River Ouse), then over to Spain where I will do the Camino de Santiago pilgrimmage and NOT die, then nip up to Germany for some of the world’s best beer straight from the source – find the Schwelmer brewery – luxuriate in the artistic decadence of Berlin for awhile – then to Italy, which everyone says “changes you,” by which point I will have shacked up with Ben Whishaw, and we’ll travel together, and finally when I’m pretty old and the artistic mission is fully accomplished, Ben and I will settle down in Africa – Botswana or Kenya, not sure exactly where yet – to observe and live among hippos in their natural habitat. Yeah. It’s all pretty much planned out.

Happiness: not so alarming as it seems

To think that today I am a fiery eagle of soaring energy and limitless strength, and only a few days ago I was a bloated toad hiding in a murky pond. The vicissitudes of being human!

Went to my capstone course for the first time today – “Aiding Unwanted Pets Through Grantwriting” is the full course name. I am one of two male humans in the class of 15-20. (The rest are female; no trannies, at least none visible to the naked eye.) I absolutely love it, although we have to present an “individual skill assessment” on Thursday – basically selling ourselves to our fellow classmates for the purpose of forming grantwriting groups – which is a little nerve-wracking – a job interview is hard enough in front of just one or two people! – but then again I felt pretty much immediately comfortable with this class – partly because of how warm and likable and open the instructor (Becky Boesch) was right off the bat; she’s one of those people you can tell instantly that they KNOW what they’re talking about AND it genuinely exhilarates them – and partly because I usually feel more comfortable with women for whatever reason – with men I feel more like they’re judging me (so nauseatingly self-psychoanalytical, sorry). I’m really just a big ol’ girl, but we already knew that, I suppose. (But no, Mom, I’m not going to be getting a sex change, nor am I going to become the next Pregnant Man like that Beattie guy.) Well, sometimes I feel more female, other times I definitely feel male. I’m just an in-betweener, such is my curse and blessing. ANYHOW. We talked about Temple Grandin, a high-functioning autistic who writes books, designed a “hugging machine” for herself and crusaded to make slaughterhouses more pleasant for animals, so that they feel at peace. One girl unwittingly instigated a debate by saying the supreme court is considering the lethal injection of prisoners right now and relating it to euthanizing animals, but another girl, who has experience in this area, said what they do to animals is painless, they’re supposed to put them under with morphine or painkillers first (although some don’t), and in any case the lethal injection itself is an overdose of anesthetic, it makes you just relax, just relax, just go to sleep.

Walking home after class I saw an accident on Broadway: an old lady in a little compact car fought a big white pickup, and the pickup won. I thought of snapping a photo but decided that was just too tabloid. (I’m the kid who always AVOIDED fights in the hallways of junior high, while others gathered around to gape at them.) On the Max I saw a guy who really looked like Igor from Young Frankenstein, wearing a hoodie. He had that bulging lopsided eye. Spoke with darling Lisa this morning, the one lifelong friend (intuition tells me) that I took from my semi-disastrous summer in Glacier. She swears she is coming to spend our mutual birthday together on March 18th before I leave Portland; I hope so, she could really help me rock this town inside-out one last time before I leave on the greatest adventure yet of my adult life. She said she is finally straightening out her financial situation, which in Lisa-speak I think means she got a job? (Lisa, if you read this, just kidding, love ya babe!) Went to Edelweiss and the Yellow Toad (my disparaging nickname) confirmed what I already knew about how lame he is by saying he doesn’t like German beer because it’s not hoppy enough (!!!), which is so hilarious, because Kirk & I both go there as our oasis away from hoppy Portland beers and IPAs, and we both think German beer is so greatly superior. Different strokes I guess! But they have further reduced their holdings of good import hefeweizens which the paranoid part of me thinks is a nefarious plan of the Toad’s to keep us away, because of that time I was rude to him AFTER HE WAS RUDE TO US. Anyhow. Came home and found the new RAM card and installed it, so now my laptop runs at least 3 x faster, it’s beautiful. (Last week my roommate Scott helped me figure out where the memory card was on my laptop – took us forever but we finally found it under the palm rest to the left of the mousepad.) Also just received Kentucky Fried Movie and Little Britain: Season Three from Netflix. Life is grand!

I've actually been in a splendid mood since talking with my cousin last night and coming away from that conversation feeling that all is grand with the world and with my future, thanks largely to him. He’s excited about me coming out, which makes me even more excited about coming out, and he even said I can take the train down to San Fran instead of the plane, and he’ll meet me there and we can fly to Maui together at the end of March (since he knows I hate and fear flying). He told me about the vintage furs from the turn of the century that he scored off ebay, including a black bear coat, which we discussed in light of PETA protesters in Portland and elsewhere, and I came away feeling really good and pumped up about getting through these last few months and moving onwards and upwards. Speaking of which, Kirk said something about how I was “dissing” Portland, and I just want to clarify that in no way am I talking shit about Portland as a city, and a place, and a magical happening incubator of art and creativity and freedom of expression of every kind imaginable – Portland is a great, great city and has been my (over)indulgent mother for years now (since 1990, off and on, if you count junior high/high school in Hillsboro), and I will miss it forever, and may return some day, but this is the biggest opportunity of my life so far, or that’s how I’m looking at it, and I’ve got to make one big leap at the prime time while I’m still young enough and ambitious enough and full of piss and vinegar enough to do so, and that’s what I’m going to do, to go and get tan and lean and toned and healthy on Maui and then have my way with San Francisco, where I may be a small fish in a big pond, and it may be harder to make an impression and swim ahead of the school the way I have in PDX, but I’ll survive, as always, finding a way to make ends meet, meeting the people I’m meant to learn from, making twisted demented brilliant art with colorful zany indelible characters, and finding beauty where others scarcely thought to look for it.