Thursday, March 31, 2005

Anticipation

I popped a woody thinking about summer. Spring is in the air and in my pants. Well, at the time, I was showering at the gym. No, I didn't take care of business. It did take a little longer to get out.

The weather has gotten my juices flowing. The air is invigorating, clean and crisp. It's intoxicating.

I was thinking about being on the beach and taking some sun. I can't wait. I can almost taste the sea air. No vacations currently planned, although that can change. So all I have to look forward to, at this moment, is the summer.

Here are a few things I'm looking forward to:
Shorts, me in a bathing suit, men in bathing suits, tank tops, the beach, sun bathing, the ocean, the smell of tanning lotion, frisbees, lunches in the park, more sun, barbeques, Provincetown (gotta make it there for my birthday again!), Fire Island (don't got a share, but I know a few people), NYC Pride 2005 (always a good time).

That's the short list.

I'm going to make a conscious effort to be outdoors as much as possible. Spending far too much time in front of the computer, and not getting a tan from the glow of the screen.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Sympathetic Harmonics

A Wednesday Night Musing



New York City. It's a large metropolitan complex. But even here, aren't there times when you've run into someone coincidentally? A little too coincidentally?

I'm not talking about the supposed "random" encounters that you have, like when you run into that person you thought was cute, you'd seen the other day at the gym and gawked at each other. Those "random" events are made possible by unconscious thought and desire. Yes, really. Don't go screaming it was fate. We all have inner workings which we don't quite fully understand and they'll make us do whatever keeps us happy and sane. Yeah, like that time when that friend ran into you on 14th Street, you were surprised. But maybe he wasn't. Then you became great friends and then fooled around and... well... just think about it.

Let me give you an example of what I mean. During a lunch break from my job in the Woolworth Building, I'd gone up to Union Square to shop around. On the way back, I opted to take the 6 train local, as opposed to the express 4 or 5. Under normal circumstances, I'd have waited for an express. The stopping and starting of a local train drives me batty. Happily, I stood in the doorway, comic books (remembered, I'd gone to Forbidden Planet that day) nestled under my arm, the train trundled along. As it pulled into the Canal Street station, my door opened before me to reveal my father.

Dad! What are you doing?
Oh, I don't know. I'm trying to get home.

Dad was inexorably lost. I got off the 6 and walked him down to the N, the proper train to get him home. Riding with him for one stop, I got off at City Hall and returned to work.

He never did have the knack for the subway. When we were kids, my brothers and I were out with my father. Going home, we were underground for 2 hours. Cold, hungry and tired, we jumped up and down in joy when we saw a D train, our D train pulling into the station, to take us home.

We both never should have been there. But yet we were, same place, same time. Because I needed to help him.

Events like these reaffirm my belief that in each of us, we resonate harmonics which through familiarity, are picked up by friends and family. We become attuned to one another, the closer we are. Maybe that'll explain that nagging feeling that you've met someone before. It could be that their resonating a familiar vibe. Can be a mindfuck, couldn't it?

This is in the forefront of my mind tonight, since I had a similar experience tonight. Me and a former co-worker/friend "ran" into each other. Neither of us should have been on the train, but by a strange string of events, there we were. Her brother's (also a former co-worker) boyfriend is celebrating his birthday this weekend. We'd be seeing each other anyhow. Odd. Coincidence? Don't know. Harmonics, maybe sharpening. Honing.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Music Whore



I'm looking over my library of music on the computer. Currently, iTunes is reading at 58.96gb for 10,287 songs which translates to 41.2 days of non-stop music. That doesn't include another 2 double-cd sets, I haven't ripped to MP3 as yet. That's an additional 48 songs, which should round out to about 41.4 days. That's a lot of music.

I was an early adopter of the iPod but I'd hemmed and hawed about getting it. The price was prohibitive back then, $500 dollars. But how glorious, 5gbs. I don't even think I had a harddrive on my computer that was 5gbs back then. MP3 was the wave of the future but they started as a novelty. I was acquiring 80's tracks that were a hoot to have, ie. Alan Parson's Project, Don't Answer Me or Asia, Heat of the Moment. I was tracking them down and mind you… this was pre-Napster or any other peer-to-peer sharing.

The BF had gotten me the Sony MS Walkman NW-MS7 for Christmas, the year before the iPod was introduced. I'd never gotten into using it. It's software was PC based and running Virtual PC on my Macintosh was excruciatingly painful. It would transfer 64mb of music. Overnight. If I was lucky. Needless to say, he was none too happy when later that year, I picked up an iPod. And the whoring began.

Converting all of my CDs to MP3, I was no longer carrying my loaded CD case and player. It did however take some getting over the fact that the iPod did not have continuous and seamless music play. This is annoying since most of my CDs are dance compilations, mixed with no pause from track-to-track. I kept my CD player around for that, until it was stolen out of my work drawer 2 years ago. Cursed cleaning people.

I've helped many friends start out on their iPod journey, giving them a starter collection from mine. Technically, I wasn't the one stealing music. On occasion, I let a close friend rummage the collective, for review purposes. Most iPods left full. Got the BF one too, a 10gb but he's not even half-full. I don't understand.

Now 3 iPods later, the original is with my brother. He's made a nice home for it. I may have to ask for it back, for nostalgia. Finally got a PC, still have the NW-MS7, but it doesn't hold a charge for shit. It is a keeper since it does feature seamless MP3 play. Apple, get a clue.

The music collection has continued to grow. In this, I've also become an o.k. trainspotter. I know and I remember the tracks I like when I hear them in a club.

What's in my collection? Majority dance music but there's some non-dance. I don't take ownership of the BFs Mariah Carey music, or the like and I have ripped some CDs for friends which I don't care for ie. Yankee's Stadium Music. What the hell?

But the majority of the music is mine. You've got dance-evilbuddha, nostalgic-evilbuddha and somber/melancholy-evilbuddha music. Of late, you've got funky, blue-sy-evilbuddha music. I've been digging that for my train commutes. Dance music makes me too crazy, especially when I'm hopped up on thermo-energy pills in the morning before the gym.

Here are 3 tracks indicative of dance-evilbuddha. Enjoy.
Always Remember to Honor and Respect Your Mother - Dusted (Deep Dish Loves Their Mother Remix)
Walking On Fire - Evolution
A Little Bit Paranoid - Different Gear

These tracks are guaranteed to get my butt shaking. I've downsampled them to make them more reasonably sized. Get them while you can.

Monday, March 28, 2005

"Wait, I still function."

I haven't reduced my hands to useless stumps… as yet. The opposable thumbs work and I'm not writhing in pain at the twisting and torquing of my wrists. I'm good.

I won't completely disregard the possibility of permanent damage from playing the PSP. It has ergonomic issues. The analog nub is below what is comfortable for my left thumb.

The act of playing the PSP puts my head at an odd angle, looking down. My neck, being disengaged as such, wrecks havoc particularly on my trapezius from the back of my neck, between the shoulder and neck, from the upper to the center of my back. I've been prone to getting stiff necks, even before the PSP. Whenever I used my PDA (I never actually used it to organize my life, but to play extensive amounts of Scrabble and Text Twist), I'd feel that familiar twang in my neck. I'd be forced to stop or suffer the consequences. While working out this muscle, I've felt a pop with a mind-numbing, white light of pain. It meant the end of my workout and I'd furiously massage my trap, to ease the pain and reduce the recovery time.

In the interest of prevention, here are a few exercises I'll be rotating into my routine and what I'd suggest for the avid PSPer.

Text is courtesy of popularfitness.com and betterbodz.com.

Wrist Curls - Palms Face Up
Performing the exercise:

This exercise stresses the flexor muscles on the insides of your forearms.

Grab a barbell. Start with a very light one to get the feel for the movement of this exercise. Place it on the bench. While sitting on the bench, place your hands under the bar, your palms facing upward, your hands and wrists - hang at the end of the bench. Slowly lower the barbell until it is cupped in your fingers just below the bench (as low as your wrists will allow the barbell to go). Curl the barbell up in a small semi-circular arc as far as your wrists will allow. Repeat movement for about 15 repetitions, 3-4 sets.

Wrist Curls - Palms Face Down
If you want to work the extensor muscles on the outsides of your forearms, try doing wrist curls with your palms facing downwards. This is a little bit more difficult.

Variations:
If you don't have a barbell, try it with two dumbbells or a single dumbbell using the same above mentioned technique.


Upright Rows
These work the middle head of the deltoid muscle. You must be very careful to perform this exercise correctly. Improper form can lead to nagging, long term shoulder pain and injury. Beginners should avoid this exercise completely.

How to do:
  1. Stand with your feet approximately shoulder width apart.
  2. Using a overhand grip hold a barbell. Your hand should be about 8" apart. The barbell should be resting against your side
  3. Inhale, hold your breath and lift the barbell straight up. Concentrate on pulling with your deltoid and upper back muscles so that the action is concentrated in your shoulders.
  4. Keep your body erect, your hands as close to the body as possible and keep your elbow out and back.
  5. After reaching the upper most position under your chin, relax your muscles slightly and lower the barbell slowly. Exhaling on the return.
  6. Excessively heavy weights will limit your range of motion and destroy the effectiveness of this exercise.
These exercises are good measures against injury, but keep in mind, good posture and moderation in gameplay.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

PSP - Day 3



Basher, the Druid is seeking the last Gorgein Shaman residing in the Tornwood Forest. I must find the gorgein corruptor and put a stop to his destruction of the druidic shrines.

Armed to the teeth with his Bloodfall mace, he's also stylishly appointed with his Heavy Hardened Tunic of Fitness, Leggings of the Hart, Wanderer's Cap and Dark Hide Moccasins of Light.

Easter Weekend Positives

The weekend hasn't been all bad.

I'd scared the bejesus out of myself on Friday night, playing Doom 3. Storyline has pulled me in and the leaping creatures have got me skipping a beat here and there. id Software did a fantastic job with this game. The game AI is very intelligent. Some enemies are rolling on the ground to avoid your shots.

Saturday, I'd made it to the gym and had a decent experience compared to the last time. I even managed to get a treadmill. Under normal circumtances, I'd rather drive a nail into my thumb than do cardio, but I did knock off a 20 minute run, with no struggle. Must have been the pent up energy from the week.

After showering up, I headed into the West Village to meet up with Chris Glass. With a few minutes to spare, I stopped into Sullivan Comics and picked up a few books. I met up with Chris at the Peanut Butter & Co. He was there with some other bloggers he knew, Thor, Paul (I never got their blog names) and Chris' photog friend, Art, showed up later.

Chris is really tall or I'm short. It's both. He is a great guy and I enjoyed speaking with him. It turned out to be a great day weatherwise, so much so that since the PBJ place was packed with kids, we took our PBJ sandwiches to Washington Square Park to eat. Chris had the Elvis, with bacon. I was more pedestrian and less adventurous with the Lunch Box, regular PBJ on whole wheat, crunchy. Yum. We sat in the park, ate, chatted and watched the pigeons circle. A dog pooped nearby.

When we finished eating, we walked about the park. "Ooh, dogs fucking," Chris squealed as he quickly whipped out his camera, alas not fast enough. No doggie porn today. Chris was heading to a theatre matinee so we said our goodbyes at a subway entrance. Glad I made the time to meet with him.

I walked about a bit, enjoying my alone time and mused how much I do like hoofing around the city. Then headed home myself, contented.

Evening was spent with some ordered Chinese food and watching Finding Neverland. Highly recommended.

Easter Malaise

The BF is sick, therein miserable and making me slightly so. He's looking to me for loving and guidance. The loving I've got down. Whatever you want, I'll get. However, I've reminded him repeatedly, that I don't have a medical degree ( Me, sarcastic? never ). Aside from take your medicine , have tea and think positive, I can't do much more. The "think positive" aspect is hard for him, he's stubborn. (Virgo: rigid, narrow-minded) I'm a strong believer in healing yourself with your thoughts.

With the BF's ramped up sickness, I'm feeling run down. I'm on the defense again, my immune system that is. Been prone to sleeping excessively this weekend, crashing yesterday from 6-8PM, and today from 1-4PM. Sharp as a tack mentally, but physically exhausted. I've gone with the fatigue and allowed myself to rest, but that gets tiresome too.

BF's father is on the mend and improving. That's good news. But his whole family is very "down." Cautiously optimistic would better describe them. I stopped by the family Easter dinner. We're not attending for obvious reasons. Everyone was very somber. I sat for some lasagna, lamb, stuffed mushrooms (my favorite, next to baked clams) and stuffed artichokes. BF's mom sure can cook.

I decided not to torture the nephew with my new PSP ( I got one, you don't. HA!), but his father thought he should see it anyway. It was a funny moment. He walked out holding the Gameboy Advance. I felt bad… for a second.

A few handfuls of jellybeans and I was out of there with a tray of food for the BF, waiting at home.

It's 7:00. What to do now?

That's a rhetorical question.

Friday, March 25, 2005

PSP - Day 1

Sitting across the train from me this morning, an Asian man tapped furiously at his Nintendo DS. Electronic blips and pops eminated from the double-screened machine. I smirked, laughing inside. For a second, I wondered, should I pull out my PSP, immediately sending him into envy? No, I shouldn't do that. It would have been cruel. For the very same reason, I didn't do it last night as I rode home. I'd sat across from a young Asian boy, studiously reading Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul. It was better he feed his head. I didn't want to distract him. His legs folded, feminine. Perhaps it wouldn't have made a difference but kids are still kids.

Day 1
I'm amazed how much they've crammed into this little, electronic dynamo. I've been watching Spider-Man 2, astounding quality. Looking forward to getting House of Flying Daggers. Playing WipeOut Pure has been fun. Racing around, I surprised myself by coming in first. Yeehaw. Gold Medal. Save Game. Untold Legends, an RPG which is not usually my cup of tea, has been engrossing. Twisted Metal Head-On is a riot, large boards and beautiful graphics.

While I've been putting the PSP through it's paces, it has been kicking my ass back. My hands and thumbs are killing me. Carpal Tunnel anyone? I worked out today and doing my bicep curls, I thought I'd go heavy. My forearms burned. I had to drop the weight significantly to finish my reps. Ouch. Feel the burn baby. PSPing is going to be in moderation, as it would be silly to injure myself irrevocably, playing games. It doesn't stop me from looking forward to doing it. I've still got Darkstalkers and Lumines to check out.

I'll be spending some quality-time gaming, PSP and Doom 3, this weekend but that won't be all of my time. Chris Glass is coming to town and hope to see him tomorrow for a little meet up, and for PBJs (yum), just working out my schedule.

No crazy dance weekend for me. Not feeling the itch, but it's there. I'm sated for now. Most of the big name DJs are down in Miami for the Winter Music Conference. It's a big dance music to-do. I'll go one year. Imagine being lost and dancing for a whole week, it is intriguing.

It is Easter Weekend. Dance party on pause, resuming next week? We'll see.
Watch out for bunnies.
He's got huge, sharp-- eh-- he can leap about-- look at the bones!

Jet Jaguar says…



…be nice to each other on this Good Friday. TGIF.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

My cup runneth over.

I passed by Best Buy today at 9:15AM, heading to the gym and saw the line already wrapped around the corner, presumably for the PSP. Ridiculous, I thought and cut through the crowd to the gym entrance. No lines for me thanks, my PSP was pre-ordered and I'd be picking it up soon afterwards. Fortunately, no snags. I've been happily humming along, busying myself with getting acquainted with my PSP today. It totally rocks. Contrary to what Juan believes, you don't have to be rich to have one. Just prepared. Oliver can have one and it's less than $500.

I'm a little embarrassed to list all the gear I'm traveling with. So, I won't.

That thing they pay me for, oh yes.. work, is disrupting my PSP quality time, it'll have to wait.

So for your entertainment, here is some googlism for Davis is…

davis is to blame It's a given.
davis is done I'll get a towel.
davis is available for special events Castanets and Headdress additional.
davis is printing in red ink In red light, it's invisible.
davis is his own worst enemy I hate me.
davis is to blame for the power crisis Last year's blackout was on my birthday.
davis is down I've got kneepads.
davis is no angel Good is boring.
davis is back in the saddle Giddyup.
davis is finally breeding Bursting from a chest near you.
davis is funny that way Do I amuse you? Am I "funny" ha ha?
davis is hot sssssssssss!
davis is the boss Not, the Master of my Domain.
davis is an evil skank That's evil b-u-d-d-h-a.
davis is on the run The past isn't that far off.
davis is gay duh.
davis is not going quietly Me and my big mouth. Shut up.
davis is in your neighborhood Watch your property values drop.
davis is an acknowledged international leader in a wide array of disciplines Kneel bitches!
davis is wounded We're all a little damaged.
davis is asleep at the switch I only closed my eyes for a second.
davis is trying to make the team as a receiver Thought I already was.
davis is in shortage I need more of me.
davis is one of the enduring members of the entertainment industry Think Heidi Fleiss.
davis is put up for sale Everyone has his price.
davis is not going quietly You got that right!
davis is innocent I've got a bridge to sell you.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Heavy Night.

It's miserable outside. The cold creeps in, through whatever cracks it finds. The wind rakes against the window, as the pellets of frozen rain chatter on glass. Billowing, gusting, I hear it, oppressive sound, darkening my mood, echoing my mood.
The BF's in bed. Tucked in. Snug. He's not feeling well. Doped up in cough syrup, last few drops. Have to get more. Sick with a cold, sick with worry. His father's been in the hospital and he'd lied about the severity of his condition. Saw him Monday, he was so happy lying to us. Today, he had surgery. As far as I know, they removed a malignancy in his esophagus and a portion of the stomach, ulcerated. He's in recovery. I'm positive he'll be fine, it's not his time. Keeping the dark thoughts at bay. Fuckers. He's a good man, it's not his time.
I won't be miserable inside.

Between Hell and Earth



Got my copy of DOOM3 for the Macintosh today. Loaded up this bad boy here at work and ran through one of the multiplayer levels. Looks awesome. I can't wait to get this home and play the single player missions. It promises to be quite a ride.

Shh... don't tell Richard, he can't stand gadgets but in anticipation of the PSP release tomorrow, I've picked up:

WYSIWYG

Joe was reading last night at PS122's WYSIWYG Talent Show. Erik and I were going and grabbed dinner beforehand. I was his date. He'd already picked up the tickets and we met up at Paquito's.

All was quiet, except for the sobbing child.

Erik has already blogged about it and taken away some of my thunder. It was surprising to see the usually mild-mannered RoboCub get riled up. Admittedly, the girl's sobbing was really, really annoying. After a stern "¡Cállate!" from RoboCub, she did shut up. Eventually her papi, for whom she was crying for, emerged and removed the family. From then on, dinner was quiet, save for our own conversation.

We finished with some time to spare. I wasn't going to suggest it, but RoboCub did, so we headed over to Toy Tokyo, to look around. Always a good way to kill time for a robo-holic like me.

We returned to PS122 in time to be seated, in a fast filling room. I hadn't been seated for more than a minute when I overheard to my right, "That's evilbuddha." Coincidentally, we'd seated ourselves next to some fellow bloggers close to our circle, Myoclonus and Meanwhile, Chris and Aaron respectively. I've read both their blogs and have had intentions of contacting them, but meeting them was better.

We spotted Joe sitting in the front but he was unable to get to us with all the hustle and bustle. So we waved, we'd catch up with later.

The theme of the readings was "The City That Never Shuts Up, New York Stories."
The bloggers gave interesting and funny stories. TinMan has inspired me to do an evening walk about New York, like he did sometime soon. I do love the city at night. When you're the only one walking around, the city belongs to you (Cue Glenn Fry). I did this back in London. It's a hoot.

The crazy people we encounter in and around New York was easy fodder for the blog readers. The female bloggers mostly talked about crazy relationships or being a whore. Go figure. Funniest reading had to be Joe, because I'm biased. He had the room in stitches. Hopefully he'll post his readings, but you had to see his interpretations. All in all, entertaining and time well spent. Find them here WYSIWYG.

Afterwards a bunch of us, Chris, Aaron, Joe, Erik, Steve (Joe's friend who does not blog) and Eddie headed to the Phoenix for a beer. We took over the backroom and chatted. But alas I couldn't stay very long. Hope to correspond with the guys I've met. Of course, it was unspoken, but we all agreed to blog the shit out of this night. :-P

BTW, for clarification, evilBuddha does not mean East Village Buddha. It's not an abbreviation like you'd find in, hmm.. oh say, ManHunt. It's evil, yes, evil. I'm evil. Period. Get it. Got it. Good.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

If you're in the East Village tonight...

… Why not check out…


?
Robocub and I are swinging by to support Joe.
Grabbing a bite and few drinks first.

Stabilizer malfunction.

Riding the train was a chore this morning. After a strenuous weekend of dancing, I lose my ability to stand on the subway, more commonly known as "subway surfing." My lateral stabilizers are all loosey-goosey and limber from all the booty shaking. Each sudden stop and jerk of the car, sends me hopping around to maintain my balance. Sigh. The price I pay.

Without falling on my ass, I made it to the gym. No cardio for me thanks, not for another day or so. I'd probably fly off the side of the treadmill and I need to save whatever's left of my knees. Not to mention, I'm looking rather svelte these past few days. The scale tells me otherwise. Managed a decent workout, didn't know where the energy was coming from but I did feel winded. It's all good.

My appetite for music has been voracious. I've been fiending for new music. Picked up Fabric 20: John Digweed (not bad, kind of downbeat but gets spirited in the middle) and Rauhofer: Live at Roxy 4 ( I know, he's not there anymore. It's ok, very of the moment.), and the new Moby, Hotel on iTunes last night. Have yet to check it out. Waiting for a good time to sit back and give it a good listen. I'm looking forward to the next Global Underground 027: Miami by Danny Howells, due next week Mar. 29. Pretty jazzed. Good dance compilations have been somewhat rare. Mr. Howells usually delivers a solid mix. I'd probably find it on Soulseek or similar peer-to-peer, but the frustration isn't worth my time.

Meanwhile, I've listened repeatedly to "Black Celebration" and "The Visitors."
Help me.

Monday, March 21, 2005

Jeez-Louise

Thanks to links from Oliver and Joe, my blog has experience a spate of readers. You'll notice that I'd averaged out in the past week. It's been respectable and I've been content, esp. since I don't allow my blog to be searched or indexed, and I'm considering removing it from Blogger's public listings.

But today, WHAM.

I owe Oliver, a Sprite and Joe, a draft beer. Okay, Oliver gets two Sprites. That's how much traffic I've been getting from him. Whenever you guys are ready.

Today has been spent in quiet reflection. Well, not really, I took the day off, a mental health day if you will. I'm a freelancer, so no work no pay. After Sunday, today was nice. I woke at 10am to check email, check the blog and noticed that lots of people were linking over. I had to finish my BP post and fast.

It pretty much covers everything with plenty of omissions. Nothing juicy, just my memory. Short-term holds onto a lot stuff which eventually goes away if I don't have need of it.

After posting, I did some necessary things, dry cleaners, supermarket. It's amazing how enjoyable the little things are when you've got time to throw at them. Oh, and an afternoon nap. Sinful.

I'm in awe of Chus and Ceballos. They've restored my faith that there is new DJ talent waiting in the wings and looking for a chance to break out. I'm not saying that they haven't been around, but American venues are so close-minded. If you're not a guaranteed moneymaker, you're not given a chance.

Suggested listening, if you've been converted to C&C, Click on the images for links:



I'm basking in the afterglow of the best BP I've been to, revelling in the memory of the good time I've had (all of which involved no sex, can you believe it?). As soon as it dies down some, I'll address some of the comments I've been hearing such as, It's not the same as it use to be or The Black Party is bad for homosexuals which Richard makes a very good argument. I'm not about to lock horns with Richard, he's too wily and probably very stubborn. I'll attempt to sway him a little bit which also BTW will involve no sex. :-P

Black Party 2005

My legs throbbed as I stood. They did not want to support my weight anymore, much less dance. The spirit was willing and the body unable.
The energy level was at a low ebb now that Roseland was emptier.
One person moved past me as I went down the stairs to the coat check.
I handed the attendant my ticket in exchange for my bag and jacket. As he handed my stuff to me he asked, "Did you have a good time?". Yes, yes I did.

Passing the ticket booth, I handed in my claim ticket for my camera phone.
Powered it up, 1:55PM, Hmmm… not bad.

Two messages, one at 9:00AM.
Hi, just checking, call me when you get out.
Next one, 1:52PM.
Haven't heard from you. Call me.

The day was gloomy and wet as I exited the lobby. Under the marquee, I made a few calls, hoping the rain would abate some. No such luck, well, not in the 5 minutes I waited. I steeled myself and stepped out, as a cab splashed another pedestrian. Time to rejoin the world.

So about the Black Party

The Crowd
It was hot, men dressed in their leather gear. I was acutely aware of the leather this year and the bears, oh my. What a furry, hot crowd. Since reading Oliver's blog and with all the pictures and links to other bears he posts, I recognized many of them (being that I have good visual memory). They don't know me from a hole in the wall and I don't have a single hair on my chest, back or arms. (also my ass if you must know. :-P) All I can really say is woof.

Ran into:
Dermott, whom I've seen many times before and is now newly crushing on me. Must have been the leather. Such an impish smile. Lots of fun to dance with, esp. when we're grinding. heh. Lots of attention from this man. Leo's like that.
Oliver, with a sheen of sweat on him from dancing (I assume), in his chaps. Très chaud. (gee, I hope that's the right translation) He was impatiently waiting for an opportunity to get a fresh bottle of water.
Joe, whom I caught on various occasions scribbling notes and was great to keep company with in the early (late) hours.
Greg, a crush whom I'll downgrade to a curiosity seeing as he paid me little mind. Leo's don't like that.
It wouldn't be a circuit party without the obligatory porn star sighting. Alex Fuerte, a new Hot House exclusive, sighted in the downstairs bathroom. Hot man, but looked bored with the bathroom scene.

The Dome
Wow. Harkening back to the original Saint, it's a nice homage. They had the dome last year, but I didn't go. It was a great visual experience as they projected starscapes and patterns on to it.

The Music
Completely on point. Chus & Ceballos were all I hoped for and more. They brought a great energy with their Iberican sound. It was nice blend of drums and beats that had the dance floor jumping very early in the night. Too many choice tracks to name, I've already relived a few moments by listening to some of their CDs.

Victor followed up with an equally astounding set. More great energy and his signature tribal beats.
Musical Highlights:
So Strong - Ben Shaw feat. Adele Holness- Sander Kleinenberg Mix (A Fav track)
It's Love (Trippin') - Andrea Brown (It got played out, but it was great song to begin with. Nice to hear again.)
Oliver did remind me that Victor DID NOT play the whole Depeche Mode "Black Celebration." Which is a travesity. I immediately bought 101 on the iTunes store to compensate for it.

Randy Bettis - lots of fun beats. I didn't think I'd enjoy his set. I usually feel obligated to dance, but honestly, my shins felt like they'd split down the middle. But I was reluctant to go home, so I sat with Joe and chatted and we bobbed our heads to Randy's beats. Joe notes that Randy did play "The Visitors", I don't recall or it didn't register. I must've been so tired by then.

The Performances
Can't really comment on them as I didn't pay much attention to them. They were relegated to the sides which is really kind of sad on the basis that the Black Party has always been about porn-formances, raunch and kink. The main stage was occupied by the DJs and the secondary stage by the flaggers. Upstairs they had a stage set up and someone was being "tattooed" on it early in the night. I never went back upstairs until in the afternoon, so I don't know if they did anything else.

Backroom
No, I didn't. Really.

This is the fifth occasion I've found myself attending the Black Party, and truth be told, it was the best time I've had. No, I don't think this party was any different than the last four I went to. I was different. This time around, I actually bought leather and wore it. I was more participant than casual observer. I got gussied up in leather down to my engineer's boots which is a big NO-NO when it comes to dancing. I was fine for most of the night, when my legs were numb. Fortunately, I was bright enough to pack sneakers. Yippee. That was a new lease on dancing.

I realize it isn't about what I wanted to experience, but about drinking the experience in at the Black Party.

How not to pick me up.
"Hey, I know you, I saw your ad on ManHunt."
Um… no, you've got the wrong guy. and You wish.

Sunday, March 20, 2005

Let's see...

…I arrived at Roseland at 12:30AM. I left 2 hours ago. It's now 4:14PM. Do the math.

I'm tired, my legs are sore but I'm satisfied.

Black Party Round-Up
Chus & Ceballos tore us a new one. Victor followed up with some choice tracks. Bettis shocked me with a nice set.
The harness was a hit. Someone new is crushing on me. (Damn, why does my ass have to be so perfect?) :-P

Seen:
Oliver - Thought Not (Hot)
Joe - Joe.My.God. (Hilarious)

I'll make a more definitive post, much much later.

Saturday, March 19, 2005

Out of practice.

I was settling in for a quiet night, preparing to watch Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind.

Ring. Ring.
Who could that be?

Check the caller ID (this is an annoying habit). It's my friend, Anne.

Hey, Anne, what's up?


That launched me into a 2+ hour conversation.
Well... so much for a watching DVDs but I do enjoy talking to Anne, and she to me.
It has been the nature of our relationship, we talk a lot about everything and nothing. I've been the one where she's disclosed information to first. I have a good ear and have been her sounding board. I listen, I absorb and I return input, only when asked. Unsolicited advice is that, unsolicited. Whatever I do say, I keep objective. I'm prideful of my ability to see two sides of a situation, also makes me a devil's advocate. I'm non-judgmental. "Judge not lest ye be judged." I give everyone a lot of latitude, as I want the courtesy returned.

Truth be told, she discloses a great deal more to me, than me to her. But I know she's familiar with some of the skeletons I have in my closet. That's my business and she respects it, one of the reasons I love her.

As our conversation rambled on, the DVD menu flipped many times over until I turned it off. I laid in bed, talking with Anne, partially engaged in what we're talking about, somewhat bored. My mind was wandering. I pulled out the laptop and started surfing a bit, checking NewsFire for blog and news updates. I realized, I'm severely out of practice when it comes to just having a one-on-one phone conversation. I'm not one of those people to have walking conversations on cellphones. Being at home, is more conducive to focusing on a topic. However I've become accustomed to multi-tasking, juggling more than one thing at a time,where one conversation is not engrossing enough. How sad is that? We've (at least me) become a culture of ADD. One thing to occupy our (my) time is insufficient.

I did eventually just throw on iTunes for background music and talked. It was nice. In the end, it was Anne saying goodnight first and I wanting to continue.

Life is short, but we shouldn't fill all our time with so many things.
I'll endeavor to focus and relish the single events. Practice makes perfect.

Friday, March 18, 2005

Calm before the Storm

My perceptions are acutely aware of the passage of time since I'm really looking forward to the weekend. So it has been a ridiculously long day. Work has been excruciatingly difficult and suffering me quite a bit. Thank goodness it's almost at an end.

I thought to parlay the entire weekend into a 3-day dancefest, but last week's debacle while musically satisfying was a little crazed in the scene sense and has left me gun shy. Tonight is the Saint's + Sinner's party. Robocub and his hubby are going. I fancied the thought of attending, but have opted to save my strength for tomorrow's Black Party. Not that I have much of a choice now, it seems the event's tickets are sold out. Goody for them.

Tonight, I'll throw in a DVD to pass the time, anime always does the trick and I'll have a healthy helping of rest. Tomorrow, I'll take in some brunch in Brooklyn at the 2nd Street Cafe, great french toast (Yummm!) and visit the BF's father in the hospital. A mandatory visit to gym (shudder at the thought) and then down to the LES to pick up a pair of jeans I'm having altered.
Hopefully a disco nap will be helpful. It never happens when I'm jazzed about going out.

If something strikes me, I'll blog tomorrow.
I'll make a full report on Sunday. Monday, if it's been real good. :)
Have a great weekend everyone.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

"That's la•mé, not lame."

(Minor warning: Some links are NSFW. If you do, be prepared to answer questions like, "Who's that hot guy?" and such. :-P )

Last night, Robocub and Eddie, his other half, accompanied me shopping for leather products. This is in preparation for this weekend's Black Party. For the uninitiated, here's a little snippet courtesy of HX.

The equinox - that period when day and night are nearly equal length - happens twice a year, with the vernal (springtime) occurrence being celebrated as a time for renewal, when days grow longer and warmer. This sunny message also harbors a magical dark side. In ancient times, pagan revelers held wild rituals to release frustrations stored up during the winter. The Saint - a legendary, cutting-edge East Village gay club in the ’80s famous for its domed dance floor - continued this tribal tradition with its annual Black Party. The event lives on through The Saint at Large, and this year’s theme is S/M-tinged Mexican wrestling sport Luche Libre. While strange live acts and masked brawlers will heat up the March 19 stages, in the DJ ring will be Chus & Ceballos vs. Victor Calderone, with Randy Bettis closing the show.

Suggested dress is "heavy." This is my fifth time attending and after last night's shopping trip, the first time I'll be wearing leather apparel.

We met by The Leatherman in the West Village on Christopher Street. It was my first time entering a REAL leather establishment. Admittedly, as soon as we walked into the store, I became inexplicably apprehensive and nervous.

Oh look, porn.
And there's a sling. Okay.
(jitter, huff)

Nerves or titillation? Maybe both. Robocub sensed my disquiet. I steeled myself and found my emotional center. Ahh.. that was easy. I never have this problem buying man porn, it's no different, right?

Looking around, Gene, one of proprietors asked what we were looking for. To be honest, I had no real idea. What I originally had in mind were some leather cuffs, but I figured, since we're here…

How about a harness?
Downstairs.
How about cuffs?
Decorative or restraints?
Uh… decorative, for sure.
Up front.

So down the narrow, potentially neck breaking stairs we went. Past the myriad of sex toys, we stopped at the harnesses. Picked two and I tried them on. I took off my tops and left my tank top on. "Take it all off," Gene said. I obeyed. He kindly placed the harness over my head and adjusted it, snugly in the right places.

Yow! Easy Gene, that caught my pierced nipple for a sec.

Hmm, my buddha doesn't go.
No, that'll have to go. Shouldn't wear that with a harness.

Sigh… evilBuddha without his buddha would just be... evil. heh. I think I can swing it.
I immediately liked the harness with the techy hardware, clips and such. Robocub agreed. I tried on the other, more conventional harness. Nope, didn't feel it. I'll take the other, thanks.

Before we went back upstairs, we stopped to check out some of the paraphernalia, including what could have been Ben Grimm's dick in dildo form. The display case was filled with various devices for insertion and/or infliction of pain. Hmm... I'm done, let's go upstairs.

I did try on some jeans, but decided I liked breathing and the pair I had on was impairing that. Gene suggested that they should be worn sans-underwear. I've tried dancing like this before, one word, chaff.

I proceeded to try on some cuffs. During this, I learned that depending on the wrist I wear it one on, I'm indicating whether I'm a top or bottom. I only bought one, wouldn't you like to know which wrist? Perhaps it's position will change during the night. :)

Gene continued to be wonderfully patient. He corrected me in my faux pas in pronunciation ,hence the post title, while we discussed the Hanky Code.
Putting my wrist out, he was trying to fasten a difficult cuff.

Turn your wrist over, I can get more control. And I like being in control.

Um... thanks Gene. Message received and understood.

Oh look, porn.

I paid and we three walked out to grab a bite and drinks.

The End. For now.

For full shots of me half-nekkid, wearing the harness (Brian, shield your eyes.) Click the boxes. Enjoy.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Woohoo!!!

It pays to get your taxes done early. My refund came in. No, I won't be living it up for the next year or anything, but I can surely treat myself to something nice.

Alas, I've decided to be responsible with it.
I did?
Yes, I did.
Rats.

I'll pay down a credit card debt and float some more cash to my car payment.
It'll be good. Time to be more future minded.

Although next week, March 24 is…

Sony PSP



Can't wait.
Yes!

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Simply… um… Incredible.

It's new release Tuesday and the hordes of people flocked to Best Buy to get…


I've just finished watching the DVD which makes a total of four viewings of "The Incredibles" for me, twice in the theaters, once on a decent bootleg, and tonight. I absolutely love this film and it's completely deserving of an Academy Award. It's fantastic storytelling and beautifully fluid, organic animation (for those interested, Marvel studios had to retool "Fantastic Four" a little after seeing "The Incredibles", seems their elastic effects were a little subpar comparatively speaking) The DVD comes with a lot of extras. "Jack Jack Attack" is a funny short and the deleted scenes are mostly storyboarded animatics. They're interesting in that they solidify the movie as being perfect in it's final rendition.

Go get it, it's a keeper. I can't wait to watch it again.

Other news, "Cars", the next Pixar/Disney venture has been pushed back to June 2006. Can't say I'm excited about it at all.

Also released and picked up today:


I can't help it. :-P

Monday, March 14, 2005

The Weekend Gym - A Rant

I'm all business when it comes to the gym. I have a single purpose, to work out and get out. Five times a week, I'm there. Weekday mid-mornings, I've got the run of the place. I like it that way. Things need to be just so for my experience to be productive and satisfying. The people whom I see regularly are of the same mind, all business. We stay out of each other's way. The locker room staff is attentive and the staff on the gym floor is considerate.

On occasion, I find I'd can get to the gym on the weekend. It's a bonus. I can take my time but what I'm really thinking is I can work in some additional routines, do cardio too and take more time.

Time and again however, I'm reminded, on weekends, the gym belongs to the uninitiated, the semi-dedicated, the selfish, the rude, the inconsiderate and less than pleasant staff.

Weekend Warriors.
It is truly amazing to find the gym packed at noon on Saturday, always not a treadmill open to be found. What are they thinking? Do they honestly believe that only working out on the weekends will help them? Their money would be better spent on therapy for a reality check than a gym membership.

These people are also incredibly unfamiliar with gym etiquette. They hog benches, weights and machines, sometimes more than one at a time. Weights are never cleared or returned to their proper place. Everything is clearly marked, so is there really an excuse? No, it's just laziness and how does that fit into a gym.

Last month, one of these uninitiated walked under my cables as I did flys. What incredible stupidity. These people are a menace to everyone.

Please stop. It hurts me to watch you.
Every gym has them, people that obviously don't know what they're doing. It pains me to watch them. Twisting and straining to lift weights, they're a pulled muscle, dislocated shoulder or torn ligament waiting to happen. There's nothing worse than poor form and ignorance. I spent alot of time reading books and magazines on bodybuilding and strength training. Worked out at home with a Soloflex (yes, Soloflex, not at all shabby, thank you very much) before I had enough courage to join a gym. The Soloflex was very good. It taught me not to throw the weight around and concentrate on the movement of my muscles. This was my education.

This is an investment in yourself. It takes time and patience. There is no easy way, and there is only one right way. If you're not going to do the background work and educate yourself, then hire a trainer to teach you.

Just not…

The Unprofessional Trainer
All so known as the inconsiderate trainer. It's outrageous that I should encounter a trainer, that does not follow gym etiquette. This past weekend, I did. She was working with a client, and occupying two chest press benches, the space between them but not using the presses at all!!!! We'll refer to this trainer as idiot going forward. So, idiot has dumbbells on one bench while she has her client doing stomach exercises on the other.

Are you using this bench?
Yes. (dripping)
You fucking c*nt. I didn't say it, but boy did I think it.

Idiot proceeds to take her client to yet another seated station to do other exercises. What a newb. I took one of the benches. I wasn't free yet, there was another trainer working with his client in the space next to this bench as well.Why can't they err on the side of caution?

I'll be formulating my complaint to NYHRC soon.

Sigh. I think I got it all out.

I'm a blabbermouth.

My posts are long. Too long. I edit. But it's not enough.
I've been trying to implement some JavaScript so that those who want to read my endless rambling, can click and read on. It's not working. So my posts are long. Too long.

Musical Genius, Club Scene Madness.

Saturday, Mar. 12, Danny Tenaglia was spinning in his belated birthday celebration at Crobar. This party had the promise of musical greatness and dance scene infamy. On both fronts, it did not disappoint.

I arrived at 12:30 to find the line was very long, ludicrous even. I asked if there was a line for pre-sold tickets, the nice bouncer man pointed to the ludicrous line saying, "That's it." What's the F*CKING point of buying a pre-sold ticket then?!?!? No arguing, I took my place in line and waited.

Almost an hour on line, dealing with line cutters and other dumb ass rabble. No matter, after what seemed like a rush by the club to get people off the street because the NYPD was giving them problems, I was in.

Once inside, the outside world fell away.

Crobar was packed. From the previous times I've been there (Alegria), it was easy to move through. That night, it was nearly impossible. Some people haven't the sense to NOT hang out in major thoroughfares. These drug-addled, common sense-free folk, were causing bottlenecks everywhere. I was supposed to meet up with party pal Frank, but I gave up on getting to our designated spot after one arduous attempt to move through the crowd.

I was anxious to hear Danny spin. He'd said on the message board that he was going to play a "big club" sound. It'd had been a while since he'd played a big club, last one being Ikon, which I totally had a good time. My first hour at Crobar, the music wasn't catching me. The tracks sounded big, but they didn't have that driving beat that would take me away, forcing me to dance.

I wasn't feeling the crowd either. Straight club kids, drugged up, posing, standing around, they were a vacuum, sucking whatever vibe there was. It was definitely eye-opening. As of late, I haven't been a fan of the Alegria parties, but at least during all the times I've been there, when I look up, the whole club is moving and having a good time. Not like now. Big difference is Alegria is all gay. This was nearly all straight. Seems the boys really do know how to have fun.

The "boys" were not in representation at Crobar, frightened away by the long line. Those that were there, you could tell, they had their shirts off immediately. I was shy and demure, I kept a tank on.

I hung tight, knowing things would get better. I stayed with people I knew from the message board. When peak hour rolled around, Danny gave the music an enormous shot of adrenaline and got the crowd (and me) pumping.

What followed was sheer, musical bliss. Track after track of monster bombs that I could not believe. Some old but many new, some old remixed, it was a dance frenzy for me. This was hat i was hoping for. I had a great time. One highlight was hearing a remix of Cevin Fisher's "Work it out." Awesome.

Eventually I even found Frank at about 8:00 (I'm guessing since I don't carry any timepieces while I'm out, in a club.) I'd finally spotted him, when I decided it was easy to walk about and head to the upper level. He'd been in since 3:30 and was hanging out upstairs. He related a harrowing story of nearly being crushed by the crowd, escaping by pulling himself up on to an upper area.

The rest of the morning was uneventful. I'd found out later that there was an incident outside the club at about 4:30. A fight broke out on the line, bouncers were involved and so was the NYPD. After the incident, the club closed it's doors to any additional entrants as opposed to closing the club. This was agreed upon with the NYPD who was ready to close down the club.

I'd left the club at 10:30am, thoroughly exhausted and pleasantly satisfied. Musically, it was what I needed. I did feel badly leaving. I knew there'd be many more musical moments I'd be missing.

Big clubs on a Saturday night, that are not billed as gay, are the dominion of the straight scene and all the bad elements therein. Saturday night may have been really bad since I believe a lot of the attendees were DJ Jonathan Peter's crowd, a notoriously rowdy and druggie crowd, now homeless since Peters residency ended. There's lots of discussion, to not pin blame on any particular faction (guidos, steriod boys, general drunken, drugged knuckleheads), but when in heavy concentration as they were on Saturday, who can you blame?

I love Danny and since the closing of the club Vinyl/Arc, his former residency, I've made it a point to hear him whenever the opportunity arose. I'm uncertain if I'll ever do a straight club night again. It hurts, but I'd think twice.

Friday, March 11, 2005

I don't want to be excited…

…but I can't help myself.


The Star Wars Episode III - Revenge of the Sith trailer is making it's rounds on the internet. It looks awesome. The CGI looks vastly improved and the sinister descent of Anakin Skywalker looks epic. Palpatine plays a bigger role in Sith as it is also his ascension to Emperor, and he is WICKED. The snippet of him against the Jedis is proof enough. That eerie sound sends shivers down my spine.

The positives aside, here are my gripes. The dialogue remains uneven. Mace (Samuel L. Jackson) goes from Jedi-speak to Shaft-speak in a heartbeat. Hayden still can't act, is as wooden as ever and Lucas doesn't fix it. Georgie boy has lost the nuances of storytelling and feels it's necessary to spoon feed everything to his audience, demonstrated by the last scene of the trailer. In ways, wholly cool but wholly unnecessary.

Can't help but look forward to Sith. It's my sincerest hope that it sucks less than Episodes I and II.

Enter stage left, Ivan.

Last night, I went to see my friend Hunter's play, The Shooting Stage. After a day of struggling with work among other things (medicine head, blogger.com glitches, my ineptitude at modifying my blog template, JavaScript inconsistencies, to name a few) taking some theatre in, was a good respite. The theatre was conveniently located at the Cultural Project on Bleecker, around the corner from work.

Arriving at the theatre, I felt out of place. Belfast Blues was also performing. I was the only non-Irish there until I spotted two elderly Asian theatre matrons, who seemed equally out of place. We, three, adrift in a sea of brogue.

I knew nothing about Hunter's play. I'd known he was in a new play but didn't know it was open until Siobhan asked if I'd like to go see it. While waiting, I picked up a flyer.

Ah, there's Hunter in the flyer and…
…Oh.
There's a half-naked boy standing there too.

This could be interesting.


Ivan (Noah) and Elliot (Hunter)


Brief Synopsis:
The Shooting Stage by Michael Lewis Maclennan (Queer As Folk)
Twenty years ago, child TV star Len took a photograph of a nude boy. Now the portrait has resurfaced as part of an obscenity trial and the subject has returned to confront Len. At the same time, teenage Elliot pursues his secret "sissy boy" ambitions while bullied by a troubled schoolmate who himself is mired in a web of lies. Elliot's friend Ivan may be able to stop the inevitable disaster, but only if he can find the courage to transform himself. Ultimately, The Shooting Stage explores how boys become men, and how the fortunate survive violence through acts of the imagination.


While I thoroughly enjoyed watching Hunter perform, I was primarily fixated with Ivan (Noah Peters) for the duration of the play. He did get down to his skivvies. YUM.



Oh.. and the play, it was good too. Without giving away too much, I understood and sympathized with the neverending cycle of abuse (adult to child) and the awkward stages of coming out. The story's ending was far too cliche. Why is it that most gay plays/films, always have the primary character go through some life changing experience, but the one's they're drawn to, are too damaged to come around? Learn the lesson but never attain what you want. Go forth with your heart, knowing what you know. Sigh.

Tired. I guess I always want the CinderFella story.

Additional Review here.

End of the story, had a drink with Hunter after the show. Noah's 23, just graduated college, says he's straight but is ambiguous. Double sigh.

I suspected as much.


I am nerdier than 62% of all people. Are you nerdier? Click here to find out!


Actually, I figured I'd score higher. I'm more geek than nerd.

Thanks to Juan.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Mucking around under the hood.

It's not a euphemism for uncut penises or a tell-all on a Ku Klux Klan member. I've been tooling around in the template for my blog again.

I've written a post (currently saved in draft), that is too long (I will self-edit). If I can't pare it down, I wanted to see about adding some control to the reader, a javascript to choose to continue reading and display the rest of the post. Jase uses it. I'm traipsing into javascript and it's got me befuddled.

I lifted the javascript from Jase's site and plugged into one of my existing posts. It didn't work.
In the process of doing so, I've discovered that my blog template is generating an anomalous error. This I found out when opening the JavaScript Console in FireFox and seeing lots of read error reports. Yikes!

Currently trying to narrow down where this error is coming from. It's nothing I've added recently and being new to this, it'll take some work and research. Apologies in advance if this causes problems for anyone's browsers. As far as I can tell, it won't.

If anyone is gracious and knowledgeable enough to take a gander at the page source and perhaps advise me, I'd be grateful. Just no comments about what a mess I've made.

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

No accounting for taste.

This is today's most purchased song in the dance section of itunes. Have people gone daft and deaf?

Potent Potables with RoboCub

I'd had a quiet weekend, no carousing about and being an evilBuddha, not even quasi-evil. During our afternoon IMs, Erik suggested we grab a drink. It was a great opportunity to get out and catch up with a new friend. I wasn't looking to make up for a lackluster weekend. It was Monday after all. With that in mind, after a few games of Halo, I headed out from work to meet him at XL.

This is Erik's take on the evening. Did we really talk about sex that many times? :-P I guess we did. He didn't mention the Robbie William's video with the Tears for Fears "Mad World" bassline/sample. There was a gathering upstairs, which we were not privvy to. A guy was manning the velvet rope. Sighted: David Barton and Mark Green (who was hovering in the bathroom a tad too long.)

After two drinks, I was feeling pretty good. All that unused energy from the weekend was surfacing. The music was trigging my need to get out and dance. There wasn't anything of note happening on a Monday night that would have satisfied my need, so I squelched it. I'd have to wait for the weekend. I did ply Erik to have another drink but I didn't force him. He'd nursed his second martini and I wasn't about to make him violate his two drink rule on a school night.

Not much more I can add to the mix, except for my own annoyance with the bartender at XL. I'd wanted to start a tab and XL didn't accept credit cards. The bartender looked dumb as a stick, maybe he didn't know how.

The bartender collected his tip, asked if there was anything else and when we said no, he asked us to go hang out "over there." What an asshole. The bar was empty.

Needless to say, XL is on my shitlist. Well enough energy wasted on bad rubbish.

Dance Updates

I can't wait for the weekend.



Next weekend is promising as well.



Time to go shopping. Anyone want to help me with an outfit?

Monday, March 07, 2005

Halo: Blog Interruptus

As far as work was concerned, today was dead. There wasn't much heading my direction but I was there "just in case." These are my days since starting this freelance gig. It's pretty sweet. I'm afforded free time when there's no work, a fair amount of which, I dedicate to my blog. Mornings are spent catching up with all my blog reads. When blogging is second nature and my writing skills improve, I'll be more efficient with my time. I can focus on learning new applications, extending my skill set.

Lately, in the instance of no work, there's a new distraction. Halo.

I'd be quietly settling down with my thoughts and I'd hear Halo's "Opening Suite" humming from across the room. I'd turn around to see my manager, looking at me. Calling me out. The gauntlet is thrown and must be answered. We battle. Our favorite game configuration is the board "Hang 'em high", classic Rockets only. I usually win, but my co-workers are getting better. I may not feign anymore.



I love beating the crap out of my co-workers in this game and there's nothing more satisfying then leading your opponent from across the board and blasting them.

However... it's stopping me from what I'd rather be doing, which is writing my blog.

ACK! Blasphemy.

I could just not play you're thinking. Well, none of us have headphones, so everyone hears everything. We play at volumes that rattle teeth and I'd be completely unable to concentrate.

I could protest. So, what I'd be saying is, "I've got no work, I don't want to play Halo and I'd rather be working on my own stuff." I'm basically getting paid for nothing and I'm complaining?

Sigh. Sometimes too much of a good thing is too much.

There's not much I can do in this situation. I'm looking a gift horse in the mouth. While I do have greater ambitions and it's not my intention to stay in this position forever, my last full-time gig did put me through the wringer. Long thankless hours and I was unceremoniously spit out. So, this downtime is good for me. Work will pick up and I'll find new challenges to help me grow.

So for now, might as well have fun.

Lock and load.

Sunday, March 06, 2005

Beware the Fine Print.



Big and bold.

*It is necessary to maintain a Napster subscription in order to continue access to songs downloaded through the Napster service.

Itty-Bitty fine print.

Not that I'd have ever switched, but you had me wondering.
A BIG evilBuddha "SUCK IT" for you Napster.

Weekend Update brewing.
A birthday, a christening, Uru, PC bewilderment, F*CKING Uru, Anime.
Yeah. That's the order of things.

Friday, March 04, 2005

Another gray hair and another.


It has been two long weeks since my last haircut... so it was time for another. Personally, I'd like to get one every week, to keep it just so. That would be excessive perhaps though two weeks is definitely the limit before my hair goes into full Chia Pet.

Luigi is my man at Astor Place. He's been cutting my hair for, what is it now? at least 3 years. He knows exactly how I like it and opts to leave it slightly longer. We're talking an eighth of an inch, so I don't argue. I trust his judgment. Luigi does B.D. Wong's hair. He's got B.D.'s picture on the mirror and I've seen him once, before I got a cut. He lingered a little long afterwards, didn't think he was "sticky." Who knew?

Today's haircut was like any other. I did notice the extraordinary amount of gray hair littering the smock. No, I'm not panicking, more bemused. Admittedly, it was a little shocking. It seemed so much more than usual. It's not from a lack of "friends" who'll gasp at the sight of my hair and exclaim, "Oh my gosh, look at all your grays?" It takes all my power not to retort, "What a shriveled looking prune your face has become," but I digress.

Like most, I attribute my grays to stress. I do question how much credence is in that thought. My first grays appeared in my mid-twenties, maybe earlier. It's a stressful life being me. I could color my hair I ponder for a fleeting moment. Already I feel the "friends" circling. Peck. Peck. I personally like my grays and I'm not so vain. This is what I am, more pepper than salt but all me.

Buzz. Buzz. Luigi's done in 15 minutes. Freshly shorn, a burden lifted from my head, I go.

Listen, Name It and Win

Visit my friend Neal's site.

He's a composer, all-around cool dude and one of my best buds.
Neal has written a song and needs help naming it.
Listen to the snazzy ditty and give it a name.
If he picks the name you made up, he'll reward you
with a $25 Gift Card to Best Buy.

Thursday, March 03, 2005

Old habits die hard are reborn.

I'd go "straight" for her.
But wait... do I want her? or do I want to be her? hmmm?


For many years, I'd read comic books. Wonderful flights of fancy, high drama and knockdown drag out super battles, fueled my imagination. At my comic reading height, I was reading the Hulk, Amazing Spider-Man and his other iterations, The Uncanny X-Men (ditto), Daredevil, Wolverine, Punisher, Ghost Rider, Iron Man, Spawn, Wildcats (among other Image Comics) Avengers, West Coast Avengers (what was I thinking?) Fantastic Four et al. Mostly a Marvel fanboy, my tastes were all over the place and I didn't want to miss a thing. You could say I couldn't make up my mind. At my storage unit, a.k.a. my parent's house, I've got a few thousand books, boxed up neatly and put aside.

While collecting, I enjoyed reading comic books but there was the investment aspect. It wasn't uncommon for me to purchase more than one copy of a book if I thought it would increase in value. I did that. A lot. Dropping $20-40 a week on books was not uncommon. That was a lot of coin back then, 93-94 approximately.

With my coming to grips with my sexuality, discovering boys, going out and experiencing life, comics took the back burner. At the time, comics were becoming dismally awful (ie. the Spider-man Clone stories) and the comic business became more geared towards the investment collector (rare variant covers, foiled, shortened runs, etc.) My purchases started to pile up, without being read. The multiple copies I'd purchased weren't garnering any huge value either (multiple copies of Secret Wars II - What was I thinking!?!?!?!?). Add to that a twisted sense that I should "grow up."

I stopped cold turkey. No more comics. I was out.

In the following years, I'd had only a cursory contact with comics. Two years ago, I'd taken a share with a friend out in the Hamptons and every weekend, he'd have a stack of comics for me to read. Exiles? Emma Frost? The Ultimates? Ultimate X-Men? WTF?! What were these new titles? I'd read them with glee and thoroughly had a blast. It was a nice diversion, nothing more.

Well... that slippery slope found me far too easily with a little assistance from this guy. Reading his blog, his enthusiasm for comics has me going again. It was an arm that obviously didn't need much twisting. I'm running out to Cosmic Comics on a weekly basis. I'm not dropping bucket loads of money on comics... but I've got so much catching up to do. I find myself fiending to find out what is going to happen to my gal, Phoenix.(she's dead but no. It's complicated.) Colossus is back. (OMG, shiny metal muscles!!!) What fate lies for the X-Men? I have to know. (Oh gosh... I just thought to inquire if Cosmic will pull books. Eep! It's happening again.)

I blame you for this, Corey… and I thank you. :)

I've always believed that growing old, you can't help. Growing up is optional. Sometimes, I forget. Play on.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

Not without a fight.

I think I'm getting sick. I have a fairly high tolerance for pain but when discomfort becomes constant and refuses to go away, I get fairly ornery. I've been skittering on the edge of irritability for the past 2 weeks now. It feels like the flu, but it hasn't gone full blown yet... and I don't intend on letting it. My healing factor seems to be malfunctioning.

I was tempted to take the day off today, but I won't give in. I did have the opportunity to take off early yesterday, which I made great use of. I took an afternoon nap. Soooo good. Sleep is my friend. However, upon waking, I experienced the onset of minor muscle aches, a definite sign of flu. Damn bug. OUT. OUT. Going to hit the gym this afternoon in hopes of powering it out and unwinding in the steam room.

Did I also mention that I'm stubborn about going to the doctor? I love my doctor and I don't mind seeing my doctor. But I'll hold out to the utmost necessity.

Add to the list of things that make me irritable, I've curtailed my coffee consumption and my refined carbohydrate intake. Goodbye muffins and donuts. You have been declared my arch nemeses. Thus denying my body some (excessive) fuel and stimulants, I don't need to be jacked up all the time. Trying to shed some unwanted fat, but I am making progress in putting on good weight.

Of course, now I'm hopped up on daytime cold medicine. Bye carbs. Hi medicine head.

That's my nutshell.