Vintage Diary Entry 1: Saturday, August 13, 1994

(see the entry below this titled "trienta y uno" first)

11:58PM- I never finshed that last entry. I got sidetracked somehow. Anyway, that's not important. I want to write about someone else now. Help! It's another co-worker! I'm smarter this time, though. I absolutely refuse to allow things to get to the point they got to with Bagboy. Frankly, I try not to speak to this guy. His name is Sexy and he is so HOT I can't even do justice by trying to describe him. I'll try. He's tan as hell, has dark brown hair, big biceps and an awesome chest that is glimpsed because he never buttons the two buttons of our uniform polo shirts. His ass ain't too bad, either. Anyway, there's more. He's also quite a cocky asshole. He seems to think that every girl that works there wants him. Do they? I don't know. I do! Anyway, he's a real jerk. It seems I always fall for sexy jerks. What's wrong with me? It's really hard to work with someone that sexy, though. I can't be ringing up some old lady and be thinking about going down on Sexy. Somehow, those two things don't really go together in your mind if you want to stay sane. Sarabellem says the reason I'm so uptight and unhappy is because I need a good fuck. She's probably right. She always is. I know there's no chance with Sexy. That doesn't mean I can't look, though. And then of course, there's my fantasies which are almost enough. God, I have a vivid imagination! Too bad I can't turn it off when Sexy walks by and I'm ringing up old ladies. Later.
______________________________________________________________

Anything in bold was changed from the original version to protect the innocent (or guilty). We worked together at The Mart (insert whichever Mart you feel like, there). I wonder sometimes if our uniform polo shirts didn't look so good on him if I wouldn't have been dragged headlong into the mess that was to come. This guy, Sexy, became a good friend. I found out later he was my neighbor. I still talk to him today, though things are drastically different. I certainly don't pine over him like I did for FAR too long. Through his friendship I smoked my first cigarette (well, Red had something to do with that, too) got drunk for the first time, got high for the first time and threw more humiliating tantrums than I can count. In fact, I've often thought itf he was taken out it might be a good thing, because then no one would be left alive that was there when I freaked out so many times. I blame the drinking and the drugs and my supreme naivete. I blame low self-esteem. There's no real rejection when you pine for straight guys because you know from the jump that nothing can ever happen. I blame the damn polo shirts.

treinta y uno

Yup, officially 31 now. It feels a little different than 30 did, but not much. Plans? Going for drinks and dinner tonight with some friends. Gifts? So far my mom gave me The Bette Davis Collection, volume one. 5 of her films. I'm such a fag! Haw haw. 30 was not a bad year. In fact it was one of the better ones I can remember. The day I turned 30 I flew to New York City, and I had seen San Francisco before I turned 31. My next step will be to see more of the east coast next summer, probably with my friend Tina. I also have a chance to go to Chicago next month, maybe Wisconsin Dells later this summer, and possibly New York in the fall. Here's hoping 31 is as exciting as 30 was. My good friend Sarabellem has started posting vintage diary entries on her blog. What a kick-ass idea. She put one on there from when she was 19 that talked about "Dealing with shakycam's homosexuality just gets easier every day..." HAW HAW HAW!! I never knew it was a problem. Everybody basically YAWNED when I told them I was gay. It was the least dramatic thing I have ever done. Well, besides my sister and my mom anyway. I don't think I ever forgave everyone for not making a big deal out of it and lashed out by using drugs and alcohol. At least, that's MY excuse. So, I am going to take the cue from Sarabellem (I know I'm a total biter!) and start posting "vintage" diary entries on here, too. Prepare to laugh your ass off!!

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry

I decided it would be a good idea to go to the Gay Pride Festival at Loring Park, so The Nurse and I went. It was interesting and an eye-opening experience. I hadn't been to a Pride event in a long time. Frankly, I think having the courage to come out and gain acceptance is something to feel proud of but not just the fact that I am attracted to the same sex. And I find it hard to believe that just because me and a bunch of other guys are all attracted to guys makes us a community. I've stayed away for a few years. I was actually glad I went, though. I had forgotten how many unattractive gay men there were. Before you write off what I just wrote as the height of snipey bitchiness, realize that I have been living under the delusion that every gay man out there is an Abercrombie & Fitch model. Certainly, most of the noticeable ones are. Then there's the standard stereotype, all the hottest guys are gay, blah blah blah. I had forgotten. It was a very positive experience. I also got a free HIV and Syphlis test. I'm HIV negative (did you know you can get the results in 20 mins these days?!). Syphlis I find out about on my birthday (June 30th). "Happy Birthday, you have Syphlis." After getting my STD tests, I drove in the pouring rain and got lost on the way to my new niece and nephew's baptism. I was 15 minutes late, got baptised myself by the rain running into the church, then sniggered at the dramatic roll of thunder that boomed as I openend the door to the church. "They KNOW!" I giggled through some of the cermeony, then checked out hot guys kneeling at the altar to receive communion.

The Return

Welcome to San Francisco. The land of beautiful vistas and knee breaking hills, the land of rickety but stalwart cable cars, the land of the sneaky sunburn masked by a cool breeze, the land of roving bands of street punks and pushy homeless people who will do ANYTHING for a handful of change, even disguise themselves as bushes and dart out at unlucky tourists, whose chuckling, often drunken friends fork over some cash. The land of the Castro where you can sit on the balcony at Metro City Bar and be catty and laugh with your friends about EVERYONE who walks by; the land where the perfect gay couple ALWAYS comes equipped with the perfect gay couple's dog. The land of Haight-Ashbury where the hippie free-love spirit is long since dead, replaced by grungy gutter punks, the Gap and money-money-money, yes that’ll be $17.50 EACH for that fleeting feeling of peace-love you just felt. The land where Barbary Lane is actually called Macondary Lane and you walk right to it without even realizing you are doing so. The land of pushy Chinese tourists, elbowing their way onto the number 30 bus to get to Chinatown and packing themselves in 40-deep. The land of rocking, stinking, sweaty rides on packed-packed-packed buses whose crowds magically dissipate without you even noticing. The land where every few blocks has a Walgreens and very few McDonald's can be found. The land where two blocks to your left often means scaling Street Everest, a 45-degree street that ends somewhere in the clouds. The land where you don’t need screens or air conditioning because there are no bugs and no hot summers. The land of Alcatraz Island with its famed audio tour and swooping flocks of angry and PROTECTED BY LAW seagulls, milling about and coming up to knee height who do INDEED seem to inquire, endlessly: Mine? Mine? Mine? The land of Cliff House, Palace of Fine Arts, Palace of the Legion of Honor, The Presidio and Alamo Square, and more natural beauty than you should be able to pack into one peninsula. The land of "That was in 'Vertigo'". Ultimately, the land of confusion when you realize that San Francisco, beautiful and serene and magical San Francisco, may not be the end of the rainbow you always, sight unseen, assumed it was.

a more full report is coming. patience.

Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair

Off to San Francisco for a vacation at 4AM tomorrow. I have a day alone and then The Nurse and Math-girl are joining me. First time there, peeing my pants with excitement, etc. It's also a requirement somewhere in the Gay Man's Union to visit Mecca at least once in your lifetime, so at least I won't be voted off the island or whatever. Alcatraz, Cliff House, Castro, Haight, North Beach, Golden Gate Park, Alamo Square, Golden Gate Bridge... WOO-HOO!! Hopefully, it won't be a repeat of the disastrous start to my New York trip last year, where my flight got cancelled. It's amazing all the things that can go wrong; damn my vivid imagination. Anyway, off to try to feign some sort of sleep. I have to be up in 5 hours!! Full details when I'm back. Have a great week everybody!

HGHC

WTF?!! Remember the post a few back called Embarrassing Moment? The one where the hot guy in the hot car drove me to distraction and the other cute guy quipped Brokeback on me? The hot guy from the hot car [heretofore referred to as HGHC] was just in my neighborhood!! No idea why. I was sitting near the window and I saw a cute dark-haired guy walking down the street. As he got closer I saw bulging biceps, expensive clothes, confident swagger... It was HGHC! His car (whatever the hell kind it is) was parked in front of my building. In quick succession, I snapped one photo of him:


Stupid flash!! The screen was down!! You can see the vague outline of his car in the bottom left. I ripped the screen up just as HGHC was getting in his car. BITE ME!! At least I got the car, though:



See the brake lights? The car growled and roared down the street right after that.

I want to think he's TOTALLY stalking me. Gee. Hope I'm not caught UNAWARE in the alley behind my apartment tonight at 9:15 PM...

See. A stalker would OBSESSIVELY check my blog. Right?

Irony

Meowers

These are the elusive "Meowing Photos" of my cats. They are elusive on a digital camera because of the delay. As of today, I finally have a full set. I had to make Haxan VERY mad to get his, but it's worth it. He'll forgive me someday. Notice how Princess Mimi (the first one) sticks her tongue out? tee hee.

Embarrassing Moment

This hot guy in a hot car that I have seen before was out in front of my building on my way back from lunch looking even hotter because of the weather. Sigh... I was so busy staring I almost ran full-force into a cute straight guy coming out the door who instantly figured out why I wasn't paying attention. He laughed and said: "Easy, cowboy." Stupid Brokeback Mountain.