Postmodern Urban Human

A year of silence

2009-12-27T08:47:00.000-08:00

Wow, a year has already passed since my last post, which truly wasn't much of a post. What it was was a regurgitation of global media pop culture. Since the advent of new media, I believe the world has experienced a very noticable dilution of traditional culture. Is this phenominon part of mankind's natural evolution? Who's to say?

Well, I'm not writing today to opine on our cultural anthropology. Rather, I want to briefly reflect on this year past before diving into it with more vigor in a series of posts to follow.

Last January, I reconnected with HIM, the man of my dreams, after we had allowed our lives to continue separately for two years without uttering as much as a single word to one another. For two people who were so much in love, two years is quite a long time to go without verbal acknowledgement.

So much can change in a year, let alone two. Suffice to say I couldn't be more pleased with the present, the path to get here and the amazing journey ahead ...

Water Fight!

2008-12-02T21:11:00.001-08:00

The "Real" Palin on Saturday Night Live

2008-10-26T21:50:00.000-07:00

Recession Proof Dining in Seattle

2008-10-26T20:51:00.000-07:00

If you're too spoiled to eat at home or a hopeless bachelor who can't boil water, then these out-on-the-town splurges are guilt free:

Monday - Friday

McCormick & Schmick's
Downtown or Lake Union
(4:00 - 6:00 pm)
$1.95 1/2 lb. Cheeseburger or Salmonburger & Fries

Talarico's
West Seattle
(4:00 - 6:00 pm)
$3.50 14" Personal Pizza Slices

Mondays

Dragonfish
Downtown
(3:00 pm - 1:00 am)
$1.95 Sushi

Ohana
Belltown
(5:00 - 11:30 pm)
$3 Appetizers
$3-$4 Drinks

Two Bells Bar & Grill
Belltown
(after 6:00 pm)
$6.75 ALL YOU CAN EAT PASTA NIGHT (until they run out)
Spaghetti with red or pesto sauce, served with garlic bread

Tuesdays @ Chez Gaudy
Capitol Hill
(6:30 pm & 8:30 pm - reservations required!)
$5 Tapas
$8 Bottles of Wine

Wednesdays @ South Lake Grill
South Lake Union
(after 6:00 pm)
$5 Steak & Fries

Saturdays & Sundays @ Galerias
Capitol Hill
(Sat. 11:00 am - 2:00 pm Sun. 10:00 am - 2:00 pm)
$8 Brunch (1 Entree w/Selection of Fruit, Yogurt & Pastries)

Observing 'Destruction of the Western Hemisphere Day' (a.k.a. Columbus Day)

2008-10-13T12:20:00.000-07:00

Oh my, this image is more than a metaphor for the Spanish conquest on the Americas. European settlers to the New World thought they were so civilized when in actuality they were the savages who've raped, pillaged and plundered since long before 1492. Today, our modern society, shaped primairly by European descendants such as myself, is responsible for the ill state of our planet and its once vast resources. My, haven't we done well ...

Halloween '08 is a total bust

2008-10-09T16:43:00.000-07:00

McCain leaves campain trail to help financial crisis, campaigns in Iowa today.

2008-09-30T15:08:00.000-07:00

SNL Katie Couric Interviews Sarah Palin

2008-09-30T14:33:00.000-07:00

Seattle's own Dina Martian reaching out to touch someone ...

2008-09-30T13:10:00.000-07:00

cHHHool wHHHip (Family Guy)

2008-09-25T10:26:00.000-07:00

Friends 'Scene' With Celebs

2008-09-24T19:07:00.000-07:00

The paparazzi caught up with my San Francisco gal pal Kirstin while on holiday with her boyfriend and Italian TV personality Michele Cucuzza. Their photos appeared in European tabloids and gossip blogs earlier this month. This is one of my favorite of the "scandalous" photos the paparazzi hounds snapped of the couple on the beach in Mexico (spelled Messico in Italian):

In other news, another friend was amid Hollywood glitterati at an Emmy Awards after party. In this photo, Brian is seen to the right of Neil Patrick Harris (best known for his role as TV's Doogie Howser, MD).

BUZZ KILL | Remembering Tido | 02/07/05 - 09/18/07

2008-09-18T21:37:00.000-07:00

Today marks the one year anniversary of my dog Tido's untimely passing. I can honestly say that was probably the worst day of my entire life; an extremely low point to say the very least.

I slept restlessly last night and recall a dream about my little pal. At the very least I felt it appropriate to acknowledge him ...

Quote of the Week!

2008-09-17T21:00:00.000-07:00

"Your behavior is not your fault, it's mine for allowing it." - Chris

Emo or 'mo - You make the call ...

2008-09-15T23:12:00.000-07:00

Is this guy emo or just plain 'mo (as in homo)?

Sarah Palin on Sarah Palin

2008-08-29T23:07:00.000-07:00

"Why I'm just your average small town book burning, abortion banning, gun wielding hypocrite hockey mom."

Note about the photo: Sarah loves animals so much she murders and stuffs them so she can always have them around her. Also notice, she has crabs.

Busy Bee

2008-08-05T22:06:00.000-07:00

Artist: Ronan, Age 5,
San Francisco

Niece Nicola

2008-08-04T22:10:00.000-07:00

I just received word from my aunt in Austin my half brother's baby has arrived. There were some complications during delivery, but she's doing OK in neonatal. Her name is Nicola Ann Petalas, after our late mother Nicky. Nicky, only 27 when she passed, was named after her great aunt, who died at the age of 15. Hopefully three times is a charm!

My half brother knew our mother for the first seven years of his life, but I had no idea he felt such connection with her still. I was very touched by this news. I don't have any memories of our mother.

You know, come to think of it, little Nicola's birth officially makes me an uncle. I have plenty of friends and cousins with children, but no siblings with kids until now. Pretty cool.

Project Jill Doll

2008-08-01T23:11:00.000-07:00

My dear friend Grace came into town last week for some client and family visits. Friday night I drove up to spend some time with her at her folks' house just a little ways north of the city. I always find it so amusing the evolution of conversation and activity in any setting. On this particular Friday night, I was brought back in time and allowed some childhood nostalgia.

Grace had just received her aunt's old Jill Doll. Here's a little history lesson. Jill Dolls were all the rage of the 1950's, allowing girls the opportunity to be on the forefront of couture. I have to admit, after seeing this vintage doll and all her accessories, she was pretty damn fashion forward.

What started out as an innocent exploration of the doll and her belongings quickly transformed into a game Grace and I played with her sister. We gave one another fashion assignments and had to dress Jill accordingly. Each of these assignments were then followed by a small photo shoot with our trusty digital cameras and Jill's original, fabulous vintage box as the backdrop.

Let's start the show:

LONDON HIGH TEA
Here we see Jill dressed for a high tea engagement with a fashion editor in London. She remains well poised yet edgy in her blue silk slacks and white, open-toed heels. She's an elegant woman who isn't messing around when it comes to gettin' shit did. Jill ties a bit of tradition into her ensemble with a gorgeous white stoal and a lovely string of pearls. Her bag is a carry all which doubles as a portfolio case. Jill's stunning attire will certainly impress.

NEW YORK AFTERNOON

Here we see Jill hailing a cab dressed for an afternoon of success in New York City. I styled her hair up because sophistication should be paired with functionality. She's wearing a sporting animal print tube top, high nickers with an oversize belt, dashing heels and a very chic jacket with white accents. Of course she's a smart girl so she specifically chose her white horn rimmed glasses to match her outfit. No woman would be completely dressed without a bag, and Jill's is a simple, black over-the-shoulder carry all.

SUNDAY DINNER WITH THE FAMILY

Jill is always practical yet stylish. Here you see her wearing a simple, vintage pattern dress with diamond head print. While she looks a bit more '50s wholesome housewife, she also draws inspiration from Little Edie Beale by repurposing her stoal as a head wrap. Very fashion forward. Jill adds tradition with her beautiful string of pearls, which tie in nicely with her silver satin and pearlescent sling back mules. Of course she would be remiss if she didn't bring something to Sunday dinner, so under her right arm she carries a honey baked ham. Mmmm, Jill looks delicious.

SHOPPING ON RODEO DRIVE

Here we see Jill sellin' it Beverly Hills style. She looks hot enough to fuck Richard Gere, or perhaps even turn him straight. A bit on the tarty side, polka dots certainly scream garish L.A. Let's face it, those people have nothing else to live for. This entire ensemble is a Vivien Westwood. Just kidding, it's actually an original Margo Montoya. Isn't her hat the most?! Really, call the fire dept., this is one scorching hot ensemble!

VIETNAMESE PROSTITUTE

"Ten dollar suckie-suckie, fuckie-fuckie," says Jill, who is more Miss Saigon streetwalker in this pure silk teal kimono top. Hanging off her right tit, Jill wears her unplanned newborn. The deliery is so fresh the afterbirth is still resting between her legs. Now that she's had the baby, her twat is prêt-à-porter, mmmmkay!

A Grand New Chapter

2008-07-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

In some ways it seems like a lifetime ago since I left my partner, my dog and my home on Beacon Hill. That first morning out of the house was strange. I was staying at a friend's in-city apartment while he was out of town. His building was right next door to where we both lived as roommates when I first met my ex nine years ago. That's a story in of itself.

I was reading the feature story in the June 1999 issue of Cosmo, "How to land your man by the 4th." Then on the 4th of July, at my best friend's party on Lakeview, we were introduced by our best friends who were dating one another at the time. As my ex would often explain to people when we were together, I was as drunk as the Lord that day, which was certainly not one of Cosmo's recommendations. But I did look flawlessly fantastic, and I think that encapsulated the majority of the magazine's advice. While my ex and I didn't start dating until about a month after our first meeting, I definitely landed him the evening of the 4th. He was so cute and starry-eyed in those days. Just like that infamous quote from the classic film 'An Affair to Remember,' "Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories ..."

On that first morning after our break up, when I walked out of my friend's front door, I stepped back onto that part of Bellevue Avenue I was only too familiar with as an early twenty-something single. It was as if I had pressed the reset button on my life. That was two years ago almost to the day since I moved back to Capitol Hill, a.k.a. the "gay ghetto." In other ways it doesn't seem like it has been that long at all.

Less than a week after staying at my friend's place, I moved into my bachelor pad a few blocks east from him. This is my last week living in my temporary exile at The Granada, which has quite honestly never felt like home. I have mixed feelings about my move though, most likely because I'm a bit overwhelmed with work and then having to pick up everything I own and transport it to an unfamiliar space in an unfamiliar part of town. On the other hand, I feel like I'm living with ghosts in this place, figuratively that is, and the space I'm moving into is very cool as is the neighborhood, which is about seven blocks from where I currently reside.

Life always comes with its ups and downs. What is truly great is transitioning from the feeling that my life has been in a state of contraction the last couple years to once more being in a state of expansion. Such are the ebbs and flows of life. How exhilirating it is for one to acknowledge their life's destiny is in their own hands and not anyone else's. It's time to turn the page on yet another life chapter. The next chapter of my life will be grand and I look very forward to writing it.

Newsflash: Chris Crocker leaving YouTube

2008-07-25T20:38:00.000-07:00

OMGYG (oh my God, you guys), Chris Crocker is leaving YouTube and getting her own tranny-ass website: http://www.mschriscrocker.com/

Check out her farewell vid:

New Seattle on Two Wheels

2008-07-22T19:42:00.000-07:00

Ever want something then suddenly life just mysteriously and simply hands it over to you on a silver platter? I've been wanting a decent street bike for months now, something I could cruise around the city on. My biggest problem has been my lack of storage space. Now that I'm moving into a larger space, I thought it appropriate to start looking for some wheels.

Friday night I was at my friend Flora's birthday on Beacon Hill. She knows quite a bit about bikes, so I asked her whether she would help me shop for a good deal on a used cycle. As it turned out, Flora had just purchased a new one for her partner, so she said I could have their old one. That night I drove home with a very nice, gently used Bianchi! It's a very nice, human-powered two-wheel ride.

Saturday I taught a class with one of my business partners in hopes of drumming up more business. We attracted a couple new clients, which was very nice. To celebrate, I took my new bike out for an inaugural spin, my mini tour de Captiol Hill. I rode from the bottom of the Hill up 15th to the Volunteer Park Cafe. It was an absolutely gorgeous summer day; clear blue skies, sunny and warm. I had one of the best chicken Caesars in my life with a glass of refreshing iced tea while I dove further into the book I'm reading, 'The Art of Racing in the Rain.' After I finished my early supper, I gave myself a special treat; one of the cafe's delicious coconut cupcakes. These delightful mini-cakes are homemade, beautiful and divine.

I have to say, there is something so wonderful about touring through town by bike. It was like being in a new city, a new Seattle. Riding a bike is so much more engaging than driving a car, physically as well as sensory-wise. Biking is peaceful as well as a bit more dangerous. One has to pay even closer attention getting from point A to point B.

After leaving the cafe, I continued my tour through Volunteer Park past the historic glass conservatory, down the hill past lush tree-lined streets with some of the city's finest residences and then down eclectic Broadway.

I had just enough time to take a late afternoon siesta before heading out to a benefit cocktail party on the Eastside in Redmond. The hostess is the good friend of a guy I dated at the end of last summer. He's a total douche bag, but she's sweet as pie. The money raised through the sale of cocktails for donation went to benefit brain tumor research. The hostess' sister was diagnosed with and subsequently had surgery for one around the time the douche and I began dating.

Met some really fantastic people at the party including a fabulous fag hag, a sweet couple from O.C. and a funny gay boy who lives in what's going to be my new neighborhood, SLU. The gay boy and I left the party around the same time, both with plans to hit the (gay) bars. As it turns out, he lives in the same building as, and is friends with, the magazine couple I once knew through my work with the LGBT chamber of commerce. Small world and an even smaller town.

Scotty stayed home ill, but I met Richard out at the Pub along with my buds Brent and Doug. We then ventured over to the Cuff, but unfortunately Brent had misplaced his I.D. and was denied entry. I felt guilty for staying as the boys had driven all the way from Beacon to meet us out, but I had work to do. Nah, but I was meeting my new friend from the party as well as somewhat looking forward to reconnecting with my old acquaintance from the magazine. There was one other reason I wanted to stay as well. I thought perhaps there was a slight chance I might have another run in with the scorching hot gentleman who reintroduced himself to me the Tuesday prior, the one I called later in the week only to be left hanging. Dick.

Instead, I met a tall drink of something standing in line at the middle bar to buy one last beer and close out my tab. His name is Chris (not really, but to me he looks like that should be his name), and he's a chauffeur. He's about 6'4" tall, has soft, thinning silvered hair, the most gorgeous set of blue eyes I've almost ever seen, full lips and one of the most handsome faces I've seen in a long time.

This man Chris was in line in front of me. When he turned around and smiled at me, however, he invited me to move in line in front of him. I told him that wasn't necessary, but he insisted. We continued casually chatting. I don't recall exactly what we talked about, but I don't think any conversational topic mattered to either of us at the time. I'm pretty sure all we were concerned with was staying in each other's presence.

At this point my friend Richard had left and I wasn't really feeling the gay boy, my magazine friend and their "posse." Just then I passed by the guy who reintroduced himself to me on Tuesday. He briefly glanced at me and then whispered something to his friend as we walked by one another. So much for that dick, but I could really have cared less at that point, especially after meeting Chris.

A moment later Chris appeared, and invited me to join him outside where we could talk and get more acquainted. We found a couple of patio chairs outside in the part of the bar often referred to as "the dog run." While I'm still challenged to recall exactly what we discussed, other than the what ifs of possibly going home together, I can tell you I found him to be friendly, sweet and down right genuine. Such qualities go a very long way in my book.

He wanted to dance and I had to relieve myself. So he took my beer inside and asked me to meet him out on the floor. The place was packed and I wasn't sure I'd find him again. Just then he suddenly appeared. He smiled as I approached. We danced a few songs, finished our drinks and then left the bar together.

As we were walking down 13th, he suggested we get some food. I mentioned the Hurricane, a 24 hour dive at the north end of downtown. He was elated as it's one of is favorite late night haunts. So off we went.

We both ordered breakfast. I adore breakfast food. I could practically eat it for every meal. We filled ourselves with some of the usual suspects, eggs, hash browns, etc. Then I drove him home to West Seattle.

Since that night we've seen one another several more times. I'm really enjoying getting to know him. Inside his attractive tall, masculine and handsome exterior dwells a very odd duck who's a bit quirky yet intelligent but also very thoughtful and sincere. He's certainly not your average Joe. Chris is also unpredictable, slightly strange, sweet and gentle. He barely knows me and yet has already offered a handful of times to help me move into my new SLU digs next week. What a guy. Ya know something, I think I might just take him up on it.

Speaking of moving, a brand new client is on the move for a home east of the Cascades in quaint Cle Elum. She came to my Saturday seminar by happenstance, and the next day we were looking at property between exits 78 and 85 off of Interstate 90, just over an hour from the city. What a beautiful place! I found her a gorgeous half acre property on the bank of the Yakima River, surprisingly well within her first time homebuyer price range.

We had a grand time spending our Sunday together, especially after touring one of the most bizarre homes I've ever seen. It was like the Winchester House of Mystery meets David Lynch. We talked about it for nearly an hour afterward because the experience was so weird.

I wasn't exactly sure what to expect from my brand new client as we had just met the day before. She is one of the sweetest, most fun-loving people I've met in a long time. We wrote up a contract today for that riverfront property, and while doing so she handed me a card, which read:

"Thank you for making me feel like a very important somebody. You shouldn't have ... but I'm very glad you did. Even though we just met I know you are thoughtful, sincere, smart and witty. Even if this house is not the one for me, thank you so much for your kindness. If it does work out though, I hope you visit anytime you want. Love, Annah"

While I certainly appreciate new clients, making new friends is so much more meaningful and gratifying.

Last night Chris met me for happy hour at the bar across the street. We then came back to my place where I made dinner for the two of us. Afterward we ventured down Broadway to rent a movie, Shortbus (one of my all time favorites he had never seen). Then swung by the store and bought kernels to pop. We curled up on the sofa to watch our movie and eat our homemade popcorn while the lights of city skyscrapers sparkled in the background outside my top floor windows.

There was one scene in the movie that really caught Chris' funny bone. He roared with laughter and wasn't able to pull himself back together for quite some time. This was an amusing spectacle to watch. It was great to see him so happy and alive. When he smiles at me I can feel it in my chest.

While I had initially hoped to reconnect with that dick from Tuesday, lord only knows why, life handed me something else, someone who is real, noteworthy and enjoyable to be with. Perhaps Chris is just Mr. Right Now and that's perfectly alright by me. Something tells me there's quite a bit more to come with this one. Only time will tell ...

Forgiveness

2008-07-18T12:16:00.000-07:00

Main Entry: for·give
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): for·gave \-ˈgāv\; for·giv·en \-ˈgi-vən\; for·giv·ing
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English forgifan, from for- + gifan to give
Date: before 12th century transitive verb
1 a: to give up resentment of or claim to requital for b: to grant relief from payment of
2: to cease to feel resentment against (an offender) : pardon intransitive verb: to grant forgiveness

According to Merriam-Webster.com, the word forgive wasn't introduced into the English language until nearly the 12th century. Perhaps our predecessors were unconditionally loving and had no use for the term or perhaps the opposite was true or perhaps there was just another term for this meaning. Could you imagine a world without forgiveness? Perish the thought!

Lately I've been having some run-ins with a few men I've dated this year. Wednesday after yoga I bumped into the gentleman who I had the greatest romantic interest in and connection with since "him."

Things between us started out very strong, we had a wonderful connection. He was charming, easy to talk to, highly intelligent and philosophical. I was falling for him hook, line and sinker as it were. However, things between us didn't end up going so swimmingly. Suffice to say our romance abruptly ended due to what I considered to be a bit of an existential conundrum.

So I was leaving the gym, and as I turned the corner for the home stretch to the exit, there he was, marching in place on an elliptical. We haven't spoken nor seen one another since early March. Therefore this moment where he was moving in place held a bit of poetic irony since I truly believe neither of us had moved beyond our previous transcendental idealistic stalemate, if you will. We were both still firmly rooted in the moment of how things appeared to us which was so completely juxtaposed to one another in addition to being contrary to how each of us felt toward the other person. It's a bit complicated (because we made it so), and I digress ...

Upon first noticing him, I felt a warming in my chest. Of course I was a bit conflicted as I'm sure he was too when I said "hey" to him. I know in my heart of hearts he's a very good human being. His equally brief reaction to me spoke volumes. He reciprocated the short salutation, and out of half politeness and half really wanting to know about him in the present I asked him how he was doing. He simply said, "I'm good," but in a tone that likely contradicted how he was feeling toward me in that moment. Then he asked me how I was. "I'm fine," I replied and continued to make my way toward the door. I had just gotten the first of my two earphones in when he called me back over sternly by name while facing the opposite direction.

I stopped dead in my tracks, turned back around and re-approached. I took some comfort in his discomfort as we were both in the same boat during that moment.

"Do you want your shirt back," he asked.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," I recalled. "Um, yes, that'd be nice."

"What's the best way to get it to you?"

I pondered for a few moments, not exactly sure what would be in either of our best interests "Well, I'm fairly flexible the rest of this week. I could certainly meet you at the Vivace inside your building when it's convenient."

Since he took the initiative to make the gesture, the least I could do is make it easy for him. I know we both suffered as a result of what transpired. Besides, moving forward means letting go and getting beyond the past.

"Do you still have my phone number or email?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure I do," I replied.

"I know I'll be busy tomorrow, but Friday is good. So get in touch with me and let me know."

"OK, I'll be in touch," I remarked and then continued on my way.

We agreed to meet up this morning. I took a mid-morning break, arriving at the cafe early to relax and get some more reading time in. Right at 10:30 a.m. on the dot he entered, his presence very pronounced by the nicely laundered red with white stripes button down shirt he carried in on a hanger, sleeves pinned neatly across the front.

I immediately looked up from my book and marked my page. I then set it down on the table and removed my reading glasses, placing them on the cover. He smiled and asked me what I was reading as he scanned the cover, asking whether it was a book about dog racing. I corrected him by explaining that a race car driver is one of the main characters, but the main character/narrator is a dog who is also a philosopher. Altogether he seemed much more disarmed than we likely both were during our initial run in the day before last, and he smiled at my explanation of my book.

He handed me my shirt back, which I immediately removed from the wire hanger and made a few attempts to fold neatly to stow in my bag. We spent the subsequent few minutes making small talk. I could sense a genuine interest on both our parts to really want to check in with the other person. Imagine that, we still genuinely like each other.

We spent the subsequent hour getting on one another's wave length about what occurred. Really, and quite simply, I was really on the market for a straight forward apology. I have to give this man a lot of credit for his bravery. To say the very least, it is quite challenging to face someone who raised hell with you for hurting their feelings. Apparently I reciprocated the pain with an older blog post about the situation. No need to go back there, but he immediately brought to my attention how scathing my blog post was about him. All I can say for myself is my words reflected what I thought of him in that situation at that time.

In the end, I know neither of us intentionally set out to hurt the other person. Given our conversation this morning, it was plainly obvious we do genuinely like and care for each other as the people we are.

Harking back to another earlier blog post, the three things we as people need most in our lives is love, understanding and forgiveness. I strongly subscribe to all three of those ideals, I'm a big fan, huge. Sometimes in life, bad sets of circumstances arise to evoke positive changes. It's how the human spirit champions such obstacles, and more often than not these are obstacles we place before ourselves. Further, the best heroes, the kind we can all relate to more often than not, are those who have the odds stacked against them.

So what next? Only time will tell inevitably. For starters, we acknowledged how much we enjoy one another as people. That's a good place to start. Seems to me we both got jipped during our first go of it. We agreed we'd both like to continue a friendly dialogue as well as to maintain topics relating exclusively to the present. Perhaps there will come a time when we can reflect on our "sordid" past with hearty laughter. Until then, we'll just forgive and let go.

Two people who want to work on a friendship so more deserve to have one than those who just luck out by happenstance. I look forward to a new beginning as friends ...

It's a Small World, for Fat People: The Right to be Fat?

2008-07-18T00:13:00.000-07:00

My dear snow invited me along for a picnic at Coulon Park today with her darling four year old daughter Lily. While we were sitting on a small floating island eating the delicious lunch Snow packed for us, Lily noticed a posted sign for people to not feed the ducks. Being the curious young mind she is, of course to her this begged the question why, so she asked me.

Just then I noticed a very obese man walking along the lake shore, so I used him as an example. I explained to Lily that ducks naturally find food in the wild and if people fed them they would get too fat. Then I pointed to the obese man and declared that someone had overfed him. Snow chuckled beneath her breath and smiled, well knowing my initial explanation sufficed.

This later brought Snow and I to the topic of obesity. She said she had heard of groups that fight for the equal treatment of obese people. What the fuck?!

While people are born with baby fat, people aren't necessarily born to be obese. Being morbidly fat is a choice. People have control over diet and exercise which has a direct correlation to body fat.

The common complaints obese people have range from being discriminated against in the workplace to being charged for two seats on an airplane. OK, I've been squeezed in next to a mildly obese person on an airplane, and there is nothing more miserable. I'm sorry, but if a person can't fit in just one seat, they should have to pay for two. Space is real estate and real estate costs money. Maybe that will help inspire obese folk to curb calories and take in a little activity.

In fact, Snow recently heard Disneyland is retrofitting the park's 'Small World' ride to accommodate fuller figured humans. Perhaps they ought to change the name to 'It's a Fat World.'

Curiosity further drove me to search the web to see what organizations exist to enable obesity. Top of the list on Google is the Council on Size & Weight Discrimination. What a wide load of crap! There's even a blog about this subject simply called Big Fat Blog.

While I think it's highly inappropriate for anyone to discriminate against and judge anyone else, I don't agree with special treatment of people who make unhealthy lifestyle choices.

Art Attack

2008-07-14T20:28:00.000-07:00

What an amazingly full weekend! Snow and I bummed around at the second Friday artwalk in Belltown, which was really fun. We saw some nice work, I met one of the cutest French bulldogs names Oliver and we nibbled on delicious miniature cupcakes at a very fabulous gallery space.

After a glass of sparkling and another glass of still white wine, we needed a bit of repose and some caffeine. Snow and I sat out on the sidewalk at one of Belltown's few cafes and had iced coffee and iced tea.

So many beautiful men strutted past us. We didn't want to be obvious about directing the other person's attention to a hot piece of man in plain sight, therefore we developed a code phrase.

Snow and I have a love for Star Wars and anything that pokes fun at the original epic film. During the attack on the Death Star scene, one of the the red squadron pilots is referred to as Porkins. The funny thing is, if you pay close attention to the movie, this dude is also pretty fat!

Pork of course has other connotations, such as fucking. So now when we see a hot guy we'd like the other person to check out, we calmly and politely say, "Have you seen Porkins lately?"

After artwalk, my pal Scotty guilted me into having a drink with him as his plans fell through with the guy he first met and slept with the night before.

We met at 611, which has a great bar. Then went across the street to get Scotty a slice or two (of pizza) at Mama's, one of my local faves. While there we ran into Richard and Manny, soon to be my new South Lake Union neighbors.

Scotty and I ended up at Purr, which I generally can't stand. However, I ran into an old friend and colleague I hadn't seen in about four years. We'll call him Jimmy. I had once hired him for a long term contract and then about six months into it placed myself on contract within the same group in a slightly subordinating role. In other words, at one time he reported to me and then I became somewhat subservient to him. It was good seeing him. Jimmy remarked the last time we saw one another was at Manray, which wasn't true.

Methinks he was referring to a time we bumped into one another in line there at the bar. He was a bit more than tipsy and ended up giving me a bit of a smacker on the lips. I didn't mind, but I was partnered at the time and didn't reciprocate. The following Monday at work he made an apology.

Saturday I slept in and then picked up my pal Brent on Beacon Hill for a little brunch in Georgetown. We ate at the Hangar Cafe, which was surprisingly good. They serve crepes and sandwiches as well as they have a full espresso bar. The restaurant itself was a single family home that had been converted. We sat in the front yard, which had been turned into a patio seating area. From there I could almost see my little red house on the hill through the trees ...

Afterward, we returned to Brent's, sat in the sun and had a beer or two until his partner Doug arrived home. We then met up with our friends Matt, Kevin and their new foster child Max out on their boat in Seward Park. Max is great, but he's seven and a total sponge, meaning he hears, remembers and repeats everything you say.

My big oops was when I heard him ask, "Matt, what's a sausage party?" I was having a candid conversation with Kevin about how I would like to join the one in progress several boats away. Hopefully he'll never know anything other than the innocent meaning of these words.

After a couple hours on the lake, Brent, Doug and I ventured back into Georgetown for a bite at Stellar Pizza, which was delicious as always. We then toured through all the open studios, shops and galleries for the neighborhood's Second Saturday Art Attack. Many of the places we ventured into offered beer, wine and light nibbles. I stuck with beer, which I had been drinking since two that afternoon.

My favorite was an a-board sign pointing to a small show inside a very funky storage space which read, "Who Arted?" Cute. Along the way I spoke with several artists. Georgetown seems to attract people who are genuine, kind and sociable. However, there was another group of gays also wandering around the hood. We said hello to them and they completely ignored us. They were fairly homely too.

In Seattle, if a gay man says hello to another, it means he wants action. So is the perception. Either that or people in this town just don't know how to be friendly and talk to one another. Maybe it's a combination of both.

Later that night we found ourselves at the Elite, a pub style bar down the block from my Capitol Hill bachelor pad. We had a drink and then from there went to Purr. At this point I was seriously ready to slip into a coma. I managed to catch a seventh wind when Doug introduced me to his friend and band mate, whom I conversed with for nearly three hours.

What feeling(s) does this evoke?

2008-07-11T10:30:00.000-07:00

A fellow writer sent me this music video a while back. I'd love to gauge others' reactions to it. Please feel free to comment or send a reactionary email to: urbanperspective@gmail.com. Cheers

FUCK YELLOW CAB OF SEATTLE

2008-07-11T02:02:00.000-07:00

It's 2:00 a.m. I just got back in from a very long 48 hours, nearly half of which I spent working. Had a two day business conference. Then an after party, which didn't go late, but clearly I did by American standards. So here I sit, three beers and an entire 10 inch cheese pizza later, still pissed off about my last two Yellow Cab experiences.

My drivers were fine. The cars were clean. I reached my destinations safely and punctually. But when I arrived at my destination however, the cab driver gave me a total that was $2 more than what the meter read. The first driver declared a $2 fuel surcharge. The other didn't. No where is this "charge" posted. Either way I think they're full of shit, so I didn't tip either of those fucking thieving bastards.

Let me tell you something. I am the 20% tip guy. You have to really grate my nuts for me to not tip even close to 20%. But $2 is nearly a half gallon of gas. I was only going 8 blocks, in both cases. So not only am I being charged handsomely for service, but I'm also more than paying for these guys to fill up their gas guzzlers. I'm pretty sure these cab drivers and/or companies are taking advantage of over speculated oil futures and basically charging themselves a 50% tip. It's not the money so much as it is the principle. FUCKERS!

Here I am, trying to be a responsible party goer by cabbing it. From now on I'm driving drunk or bumming rides from total strangers. I think they call that hitch hiking. Or better yet, I'll get drunk, commandeer someone else's ride, then smash it into the side of a Yellow Cab and flee the scene undiscovered. Surcharge that, motherfuckers.

Social Media Conundrum

2008-07-09T11:30:00.000-07:00

Digital (online, virtual) ethnography (a.k.a. netnography or webnography) - is it a study involving the culture of people or the culture of machines or both? You decide ...

I'm gonna be a SLUT!

2008-07-08T21:08:00.000-07:00

It's official, I'm going to be a SLUT (South Lake Union tenant). For nearly two years, since the end of my seven year relationship, I've been harboring myself like a fugative in what I refer to as my "temporary exile," a.k.a. the maxi pad on Capitol Hill. While I'm still not quite ready to settle back down into a place of my own, I'll be one step closer, living in an incredibly unique one bedroom loft apartment in one of Seattle's most up and coming in-city neighborhoods.

Finding Inspiration

2008-07-06T22:10:00.000-07:00

My dear Snow, an incredibly gifted, freelance illustrator, has been yearning to find the time to stay with her craft of painting. I'm finding myself with a similar and yet slightly different dillemma.

I very much want to stay with my craft of writing, and I suppose to some extent I have through my blog. Time isn't as much the issue as is inspiration, focus and creative gusto these days.

Pounding away on this Underwood No. 5 (is that like Chanel No. 5 for writers?) is such a romantic notion. Have you ever tried to type on one of these machines though? Not only are they ergonomically hateful, but they are just plain uncivilized. People must've had very strong fingers back in the day.

Still, I imagine myself in a small, secluded cabin along the Pacific Northwest coastline with ample time for reflection and energy to create masterful works on one of these beautiful antiques.

Is America Going Bankrupt?

2008-07-04T12:00:00.000-07:00

In the spirit of observing America's independence from England, it is important for us to reflect on the reasons why we as colonists became separatists in the first place. Was it not because of taxation without representation? Funny how history repeats itself as you'll learn via the following 60 Minutes reel:

Summer in the City @ 1st Thursday Artwalk

2008-07-03T22:00:00.000-07:00

Snow and I ventured down to Pioneer Square for July's First Thursday Artwalk. Neither of us had been in quite some time.

We felt fortunate the weather held out. It's always a crap shoot prior to the 4th of July. People were out en masse, dressed for warmer weather. We started our tour by attempting to find parking, which we finally did after lapping around many blocks and shelling out $12. Of course on our way wandering on foot down 1st Ave we passed by a couple garages for half the amount we paid. Now we know better.

We started our tour in the pedestrian alley of Occidental where white trade show tents housed painters and jewelers selling their artwork and crafts. Snow remarked how nerve wracking it must be for these artists to have people candidly walk by, commenting and critiquing their work.

Both Snow and I were slightly intoxicated by the creative energy and buzz all around us. Not to mention the myriad of beautiful folks strolling from gallery to gallery, some dressed as artfully as the fine pieces on display.

Inside the second formal gallery we ventured into, where we saw some of the most spectacular pieces, both our eyes also ran across an incredibly gorgeous gentleman. He wasn't wearing a ring. Yes, that's the first thing I look at. But he wasn't alone either, and he wasn't with a man. Still, he was fun to admire from afar nonetheless.

We then found ourselves across the walkway at Cafe Umbrio where we lounged at a sidewalk cafe table for a spell. That's when we noticed Arien, a fellow I dated for several weeks this spring. He was with another fellow, but from what we could tell they weren't together in the romantic sense.

Snow and I remained incognito. We watched them walk into a gallery on a perpendicular street, then walk out and toward the waterfront. Suddenly they appeared again a half block closer from where we spotted them out front of the gallery at the end of Occidental, but didn't see them walk back the same way. We deducted they must have walked all the way back around the block. They were standing out in front of a Starbucks, not hard to do in Seattle as there's practically two on every block. Then they started coming our way.

It's not that I have a big problem with Arien. He's a very sweet guy, but also another one of those deaf guys who wasn't able to hear the fact I thought he and I were better off as friends. I extended a lunch invite not too long ago, which he made a production out of. So, I'd rather not engage him if he can't just be a cool cat and chat me up casually.

Arien and his friend walked right in front of our table. I had my head turned slightly and didn't notice. That was acting. Thank you. Snow remarked that he looked right at us, but he too didn't notice us either. Bravo. Encore.

We then got up and toured one more gallery space right at closing time. Shortly after we headed back toward the car and to grab a bite along the way. We stumbled upon the best Thai place I've been to in a while. It was very tastefully minimalist, they played classic jazz tunes and the joint was adjacent to where we parked. We dined on the most delicious little spring rolls and chicken phad thai, which was more than enough for two. We got out of there for $17 including tax and tip. What a bargain! That more than made up for being extorted on parking.

Snow and I had such a wonderful time we vowed to do artwalk every month from now on.

The Douchiest Phone Message In History

2008-06-30T14:17:00.000-07:00

My San Francisco BFF sent me this the other day. Here's the back story. A girl named Olga was out with her friends in San Francisco's Marina district (known for being a popular hang out for douches), and she talked to this guy named Dmitri for all of two minutes. Then she gave him her card and said “give me a call.”

These are the two messages he left her. Listen to the whole thing, it just keeps getting better and better. You've gotta hear it to believe it:

http://view.break.com/527579 - Watch more free videos

Swallow My Pride

2008-06-27T23:11:00.000-07:00

A priest walks into a gay bar with a dyke, a fag and a straight chick. No, this isn't the beginning of some joke, but rather the start of my Friday night out in San Francisco. Seriously. Any trip I can come back from saying the aforementioned is a great one, which I plan to get a lot of mileage out of in the coming days. The significance of this date is that exactly 39 years in New York City (on Friday, June 27, 1969) the Stonewall Riots ignited the LGBT liberation movement.

Our Pride adventure in The City (what many Californians have nicknamed San Francico) actually started on Thursday, which wasn't necessarily off to a good start. The City of Seattle towed my car. Apparently the utility work on my block started a day early. I heeded the signage correctly, but the city fucked up. So I missed my carpool, but still made my flight in more than plenty of time as it was delayed due to poor visibility as Northern California was a blaze with wild fires.

Caught up with Hicks, a friend of a friend, inside SeaTac's sleek newer Concourse A. Ironically, I found him in the African Lounge, ironic because he's black.

Upon arrival, I turned on my phone only to be receiving a call from the plane pulling in right behind mine. It was my dear friend Rach, who I've known since my college "daze." We were meeting up in The City and both staying with my BFF Grace on Russian Hill.

No sooner had we put our things down in Grace's flat, we were whisked off to North Beach via cab to get a drink or several. We started at a very swanky bar, a place I had been to once before but can't recall the name. While there, a very muscular, athletic gentleman about our age approached. He's an acquaintence of Grace's who was very interested in having people notice his well developed bod as he drew attention to it by casually flexing from time to time. He was pretty sexy right up until those moments. Next.

Don't know what it is about the corner of Grant and Green in North Beach, but two out of two times I've been on that exact same corner adjacent to this quaint Irish pub, months apart, I've gotten completely stoned.

The time before this last it was Grace and my dear friend (and former co-worker) Macho Pacho (that's Grace's nickname for her). Pacho and her band performed at the pub last October. I had just stopped through The City for the night on my way to my other home away from home in coastal Mexico.

This time we were walking by these three big dudes and the smell of ganga in the air was extremely pungent. As we passed, I commented how good something smelled. We then invited ourselves to partake. They were more than happy to share. I suppose this stands to good reason.

Man, they had the fattest spliff I've ever seen. I swear it was nearly an inch in diameter. OK, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but it was pretty fucking huge! And one toke got me pretty fucking stupid-baked. It's sometimes very fun to regress ...

From what I recall we ate some wood fired pizza at what first appeared to be a very charming Neapolitan pizza restaurant right on Columbus that was clearly open for late night dining. The waiters must have been faux Argentinians because they thought they were Mexicans who thought they were British and acted like snooty French men. We sat out on the sidewalk and even if you offered me $1 million, I wouldn't be able to recall what we talked about. I do recall a lot of laughs, but that's par for the course with these gals.

Grace had to run into the office early Friday morning. I don't know how she did it. Rach and I accompanied her to Peet's on Polk Street for some fresh morning brew. Lord knows we all needed it. So Rach and I went on walk about, strolling down Embarcadero on the water's edge until we hit Market Street. Along the way Rach made contact with our good friend Alice, who I had just seen about a month prior during my last visit with Grace in The City. We agreed to meet her and her girlfriend for lunch at Chow in the Castro.

We hopped a streetcar on Market Street, which would could have easily beat to our destination by just strolling at a casual pace. It was one tourist experience I hadn't ever indulged during my dozens of visits to The City over the years. Now I know why. Impractical when you have limited time, places to be and people to see.

Chow was delicious as was our waiter. Afterward, Rach and I returned to Russian Hill in time to meet Grace's friend, Priest Ralph de Bricassart.

The four of us started at a rooftop bar in the Mission, which offered skyline views and was fantastic except for the cold wind whipping up from the bay. Our next stop was surely for Rach, the Lexington, a dyke bar on the edge of the Castro. Some of her gal pals from San Diego were there. They came up as a band to play a few sets for the Dyke March the following night.

Our next stop was Moby Dick's, which was surely for yours truly. The men were out in full force for Friday night of Pride weekend in The City. Funny enough, I recognized quite a few men from Seattle, but we of course kept to ourselves and didn't bother saying hi to one another. It's the gay Seattle way, the prude misunderstanding that if you say hi to another gay man it means you want to fuck. Whatever happened to being able to just be genuinely friendly? Oh well ...

Apparently during our time at Moby Dick's, Priest Ralph de Bricassart engaged Grace in a very unholy conversation, more than insinuating (emphasis on the "sin") his romantic interest in her. Talk about an existential quandary, one that my dear Grace wanted nothing to do with.

We fled to Escape from New York Pizza on Castro. I love their pizza! Delicious, perfectly crispy thin crust and very flavorful. My mouth is watering just thinking about it, which is why I indulged in their pizza three times over the weekend. Mmm ... I digress.

After pizza, the priest, the dyke and the straight chick got into a cab and I ventured back to Moby Dick's. That's where I met Doug, a very tall, robust gentleman in his late 30s with slightly slivered hair and a gorgeous smile. Clearly I'm a sucker for that, but that came a bit later in the evening, pardon the vague innuendos.

Doug and his three pals, one couple and one ex boyfriend, were a breath of fresh air. They were welcoming, talkative and genuinely nice. Very un-Seattle I have to say. They invited me out on the sidewalk for a toke and then Doug bought us a round of drinks. We stayed at Moby's for one more and then headed down to a much smaller, quieter bar called the Men's Room, just down the block.

Not long after our arrival to the Men's Room, we were sitting at the bar when the gentleman next to me stood up on the bar stool, hefted his glass up high and announced the death of his father, asking everyone to join in his toast. It was the sort of moment you'd see on the silver screen, but rarely in person. I was so stunned I stood to my feet, placed my hand on his back and asked whether he was serious. He said he had just moments prior received word from his brother in San Luis Obispo, the town where I attended university. He also explained that his dad was very ill and this had been a long time coming. He was glad that his father is at peace now.

The night was winding down, and Doug extended an invitation to his place by Almo Square Park. The park is famous for the row of colorful Victorian "Painted Lady" homes often seen with the San Francisco skyline in the background on films and TV.

Suffice to say my time spent with Doug was the most amazing 12 hour relationship I've ever had! The conversation was great, the intimacy spectacular and he treated me like a complete gentleman. We slept in until nearly noon, and then he took me to breakfast at his favorite greasy spoon. It was delicious and the perfect elixer after a night of tying one on with Father Tom and friends. Afterward, Doug drove me back across town to Russian Hill in his convertible Audi with the top down.

Meanwhile, the girls (Rach and Grace) were enjoying Bloody Mary's at The Cliff House. We had planned to see an art exhibition, but that didn't actually come to fruition. A few years prior, the three of us went to go see "The Universe Within," which is that Chinese exhibit of human cadavers. It was housed at San Francisco's Masonic Temple, and it was definitely not the type of exhibit one should experience hung over. Enough said.

The three of us had an appointment with some other dykes and tapas in the Mission that evening and then we were invited to walk in the Dyke March. At the tapas table, I had Grace to my right and a scruffy dyke to my left. She had a bigger goatee than me! I can't recall her name, but she was very nice to converse with. She said she loved Seattle and had been up recently to film a documentary about bearded ladies. Oh, of course.

We went by foot from the restaurant to the start of the march at Dolores park. I have seen enough dyke breasts (a.k.a. yams in socks) for a lifetime. What was great to experience was the festive atmosphere. People in the row houses and apartments that lined the streets of the march hosted parties. One of the parties consisted of what appeared to be several breeder families, whose children were hanging out of the windows giving peace signs and waving little rainbow flags in support.

Grace and I grabbed a couple of ice cold Sapporros from a sidewalk vendor and drank them out of paper bags during the march. By the end of it all we had all we could handle, so the two of us left Rach to her fellow dykes and devices while we grabbed a cab back to Russian Hill.

Despite having gone to bed at a very respectable hour, 10ish, morning still came a bit early. We had to get Rach to the airport and then had a brunch with Grace's friends at none other than their favorite Polk Street haunt, Bar Johnny, which I lovingly refer to as the Regal Beagle. They offered a phenomenal brunch.

I had poached eggs with lox, sweet potato hash browns, mixed greens and bottomless mimosas. Grace shared her brioche with me, which was absolutely one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted. They clearly slice their own fresh brioche loaves and then throw the slices on the grill with some butter. Simple yet mildly sweet and deliciously savory.

After our bubble-filled brunch, the gang (I think there were like eight of us) went with Grace's friend Alysha, whose birthday it was, back to her amazing apartment for a little smoke out. That seemed to be a theme that wove its way through the weekend. Along the way half our group stopped in for a glass of wine at the most charming cafe on the corner of Hyde & Jackson. After the smoke out, we returned to the same corner cafe with the intention of taking the trolly over the hill near the Wharf.

Trolly after trolly passed us by as they were filled to capacity with tourists. So we settled for taking over the sidewalk tables at this gorgeous corner cafe, where we had several rounds in the sun before a chilling fog rolled in. Then it was off to the Bell Tower, where Grace had originally met Priest Ralph de Bricassart. Incidentally, he met us for brunch, but left early to play a round of golf. He was leaving early the next morning to do some fundraising in Portland, Oregon, but was to return to The City a few days later. He ended up cutting his West coast trip short, having to head back to New York to attend a funeral.

I managed to get myself to the airport, drunk as a skunk, all the while wearing my Swallow My Pride t-shirt. I left some DVD's at Grace's and lost a ring through security. Otherwise I returned to Seattle without so much as a scratch, thankfully.

My plane touched down before midnight, and it was still Pride weekend on Capitol Hill. So instead of driving home, I parked near the Cuff. That turned out to be dead, so I walked over to Madison Pub, which was even more so. Decided to have a beer there anyway, which turned into two, which turned into a flirty conversation with a muscle cub, which turned into smooching in an open parking lot among just a few other things ...

Although I always have a grand time in The City, it's good to be home.

A League of His Own

2008-06-21T22:01:00.000-07:00

I feel funky. Maybe it's the week. Maybe it's the weed. Maybe it's the dweeb. This afternoon Luke, this guy I dated for the last couple months, tells me he thinks I'm out of his league. That was a first. He said he felt inferior and thought I must think he's a bore. That's about the saddest thing I've heard in quite a while. Almost as sad as, "I can't be the man you need me to be," famous near last words from an old flame ...

Is it me or is there something seriously wrong with someone who would say such things? Let us not overlook the fact this way of thinking is purely unilateral, which comes from a completely self absorbed place.

Well, truth be told he was too insecure and emotionally immature for us to be a good fit. Instead of just being direct and straight forward, he would often hint around about how he was feeling. Can't tell you how much that drives me up a wall. I'm not a mind reader, and I would never assume to ever just know how someone else is feeling. Perhaps over time, a long, long time, I might gain some insight.

Luke had many great qualities. We had a nice little connection. Even today, despite not having seen one another for a couple weeks, we chatted across a cafe table for a couple hours. We made a lot of small talk, and then broached the elephant in the room; what went wrong.

I suppose what baffles me the most is that he had the vulnerability, the humility, the balls to articulate how he feels lesser than me. I really liked him, and I'm very expressive, so I showered him with praise. From day one he deflected my compliments, almost couldn't take one to save his life. Translation: very poor self esteem.

OK, we would all be remiss to not admit our insecurities. Everyone has them. Some clearly more than others. I mean, c'mon, I'm the guy who farts into the phone with some of his best gal pals on the receiving end. Guess sometimes others see in us only what they want to see and overlook understanding who we really are.

On some level I would say this is unfortunate. Though one should never curse their bad luck until they're absolutely certain it's not good luck.

We walked out to our cars together and hugged a couple times prior to parting ways. We agreed we could still continue on as friends. What amused me the most were his parting words, "This isn't goodbye, just see you later ..." Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps he'll just remain in a league of his own.

Adios, amigo.

My Nude Neighbors

2008-06-19T19:16:00.000-07:00

My apartment faces directly into the living room of the Canadian breeder couple who live in the building across the street. I'm deducting their national origin based on the oversized flag they have displayed on a post in their living room. They moved in a few months ago, and have a tendency to rearrange their furniture on a weekly basis. They also have a tendency to walk around bare ass naked with their window coverings pulled wide open.

Between their living room and bedroom windows is a smaller window into the alcove that houses their shitter. My kitchen window looks directly into it. On the thankfully rare occasion, I've been washing dishes only to look up and see the guy wiping his butt. The odd thing about it, in addition to him doing so shamlessly in an open window that directly faces my 100+ unit building, is that he stands up to wipe while watching himself do so. Yeah, it's gross.

However, I will say the guy is otherwise physically attractive. Tall, lean, muscular, beautiful skin. He also has a HUGE dick. Once he was standing, smoking a cigarette in the buff right at their living room window on a bright, sunny weekend morning. His member was taking an elongated bow while he sure seemed to be standing proud. I can only imagine he was having a post fuck smoke.

Yes, I have also seen them fuck, but nothing quite prepared me for what I witnessed this morning. The guy was going down on his woman like he had just returned home from Auschwitz and hadn't eaten a scrap of food in weeks and months. At first I thought he was just on his knees with his head in her lap while she was sitting up on their living room futon. No, it couldn't have been that innocent, not with them. They were moving and grooving almost violently. I thought at one point she was going to unbirth him and her voracious vagina was going to swallow him up whole.

"Nah, don't bother drawing your shades. The whole neighborhood just loves watching you pig out in your woman's trough."

Straight nasty. Rude.

So that's how my morning started. Then I attended to a suit and tie business affair at an office tower a few streets down the hill from me. This was a most welcome change of scenery.

Quote of the Week!

2008-06-12T22:15:00.001-07:00

Um, have we met? I've only sat on your face four times this week! - Anonymous

What Gays Have Been Reduced To

2008-06-12T21:39:00.000-07:00

Holy shit! You've gotta read this. A gem of an excerpt I recently ran across on Craigslist:

YOUR AVERAGE GAY MAN - 30 (Seattle)

Reply to: pers-718157208@craigslist.org
Date: 1969-12-31, 4:33PM PST

I'm your average gay man. I'm emotionally shut down, but have an uncanny ability to have empty, casual sex whenever the mood strikes. I'm self absorbed and judgemental, but deep down, like most of you, I'm very insecure. I lack emotional maturity and assume the role of victim in life.

In addition to being checked out, I also like to play head games. I expect you to guess what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling most of the time. If you guess incorrectly, I'll get upset and become withdrawn. When that happens, I'll need your unending devotion. I'm a bit needy.

Otherwise, I'm entirely physically attractive and always present myself very well. You can think of me as somewhat of a wolf in sheep's clothing. I promise the sex will be killer because that's about all I'm good at. Well, aside from being aloof and passive aggressive. Sure, it'd be easier just to be direct and up front, but where's the drama in that?

Don't worry, if I suddenly lose interest in you, I'll just sever all ties and you'll never hear from me again.

Any takers?

Location: Seattle
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Hmmm ... well that pretty much about sums up every guy I've dated over the past couple years. Whoever wrote that is a genius!

OK, I'll admit it. I wrote it and posted it to Craigslist as somewhat of a joke and some what of a way to express my disdain for dating. I actually received responses. None was more creepy than this fugly fifty something guy who thought I sounded really interesting. OMFG.

Seattle: Colder than Siberia

2008-06-11T13:34:00.000-07:00

Colder than Siberia? Must be a reference to my last couple break ups. Joking aside, Seattle is generally known for being soggy, not frigid. Though I once saw it snow in the Cascade foothills around North Bend in June back in the early '90s.

Truth be told, Seattlites are never satisfied with their weather. It's either too wet, too cold or too hot. We're not even talking extreme weather and a place where as soon as temps hit 60, people are walking around in shorts and short sleeve shirts. Seattleites are just a bunch of whiney pussies.

Well, if global warming is really occurring, it's sure not yet making a stop on its world tour here in Seattle.

Bliss (Mutluluk)

2008-06-10T19:10:00.000-07:00

My buddy Scotty and I went to go see "It's Hard to be Nice" at the Seattle International Film Festival last night. However, we were instead destined to see a substitute screening of "Bliss." Apparently the film we originally intended to see was stuck in customs.

There are definitely no accidents in life. Bliss was an amazing independent foreign film out of Turkey. It reminded me quite a bit of White White Black Stork, the play I saw a couple months ago, performed at ACT by a talented Uzbekistani theatre group. The connection between this film and that play I saw had to do with strict cultural traditions that condemn people for their very human mistakes.

In Bliss, the main character was condemned for a sinful act that wasn't even her fault. She was raped, and was SO horrified by what had happened to her, she was unable to verbally recount the crime. Her village as well as her own family condemned her for something that was clearly out of her control. This survivor of rape had no rights, no voice and no recourse except to repent for a sin that didn't even belong to her. She was expected to pray for forgiveness and then end her own life by hanging herself. Thankfully she couldn't go through with it.

Miraculously, a relative took her away to the big city of Istanbul. Still within the same national boarders, the city offered a little more forgiveness than her small, archaic rural village. The twist was that her rescuer was also intent on assassinating her.

This poignant film explores the disconnect between extreme fundamenalist religion and issues in contemporary society. Bliss, based on a novel, was an outstanding film with high production values, depth and soul. This film was dark and light, sorrowful and joyful; a cinematic buffet of emotion and feeling. Definitely a masterful movie that inspires one to appreciate freedom of expression, something many of us spoiled rotten Americans commonly take for granted.

Doughnuts & Ghosts

2008-06-06T19:47:00.000-07:00

Where do I find myself on a perfectly gorgeous late spring evening in Seattle? An intense hour of yoga followed by camping out at a beautiful, park side cafe a few blocks from my Capitol Hill bachelor pad with a hearty thirst for some comforting chamomile tea and the written word.

Not sure whether it's the cloudy weather, but I've been struggling with self motivation professionally as well as creatively in recent days. Though lately I've been leaning more toward having some gusto for the creative, so at least something gives.

Today is the first Friday in June, which also marks National Doughnut Day. Really. According to sources I found online, this day honors the women who served doughnuts to soldiers on the front lines of World War I. Apparently the very name for this beloved American edible was derived from the men of the armed services as these fried morsels were often cooked up in their helmets. The American troops of that era were referred to as "doughboys." Clearly the name stuck as well as this sweet treat. Though where does the "nut" in doughnut come from? Perhaps back in the day they thought it was nuts to be frying up dough in the trenches under the shower of enemy shells and small arms fire.

My dearest Snow and I observed this day by meeting up in the mid afternoon at Top Pot Doughnuts on Fifth Avenue in Belltown to enjoy a hot beverage, one of their artfully tasty, doughy treats and friendly conversation. Though admittedly I don't believe either of us were fully aware of the real significance this alleged holiday marks when we cemented our plans to meet. Oh well.

I told Snow of my recent dating woes, specifically about the wookie, who I really liked. However, over the past week or so he has taken a turn toward inexplicable insecurity. I'm not quite sure where this started coming from. Snow believes he really likes me and is just afraid of getting hurt, so he's acting out of fear. Hmmm, that sounds all too familiar. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what drove him, my catalyst for leaving my seven year relationship, to employ the "push me pull you" bit, which eventually disintegrated one of the greatest loves I've ever known in my life. I'm certainly not venturing down that road again.

Last night, aboard friends' boat, the Red Herring, on Seattle's Lake Union, my dear friend Bay Bay informed me he had had a run in with him last Saturday night. Bay Bay and his partner were just exiting one of Capitol Hill's few remaining gay watering holes when they ran into him out on the sidewalk. He approached them both in a very excited manner, exclaiming their names and giving them both big hugs, as though they were dear old friends who had at long last been reunited. He says to Bay Bay, "I sense that you're holding back." To which Bay Bay replied, "You're very intuitive." I'm also told he looked like a big, drunken mess.

Just the weekend before, another one of my friends ran into him, out at the bars (perhaps the bars have become more than just a mere pass time for him). At first I was told my name didn't come up in conversation, and then later that he had referred to me by my full first name, something he once did to express endearment.

Both Snow and Bay Bay believe he's communicating with me through my friends, and this feels safe for him. All I know, as Snow also observed, he seems to keep popping up, especially as of late. Perhaps it's coincidence. Seattle is still a pretty small town. Maybe, just maybe, we'll come full circle someday soon.

I'm still in the same place I was the last couple times I wrote about this topic, wanting only to make peace with him and that which suddenly tore our love apart, which was seemingly too short lived. Despite knowing I deserve so much more from a lover than what he became incapable of, traces of him still linger on my mind and in my heart.

Snow opined that he's afraid to face me because I am the one person who knows and can see all his weaknesses. She asked me what I would do if by chance he were to actually come around and want to make a genuine go of it. I hate to admit it, but this is a question I asked myself as recently as this morning. Would I be willing to take another chance? Would I be willing to take the ultimate risk for what may or may not be? I'm not sure. What I do know is when things unraveled with him, part of me died inside. It took me months and months to rebound from that. Nearly a year and a half later, I'm still not the same person with respect to how I live and love. Though that might have changed regardless. Who's to say. Doh! I must be nuts for even having these notions. Or perhaps better yet I may just be human.

With every passing day I fall deeper into myself, hopefully getting that much closer to being more like the person I always knew myself to be. I wear these romantic wounds and their subsequent scars like a badge of honor. Just like fashion, love is for the brave. Love is truly the only thing in life worth fighting for. What else would humankind have to live for? What else is there beyond our hearts' greatest desires?!

Snow also reminded me of another love of romance past, my ex of seven years. Snow's hubby ran into him several weeks (if not months) ago while out on patrol. My ex readily confessed that he missed the way things used to be; missed our home, our dearly departed dog and me ... I miss him and much of our old lives too, but he left me long before I physically left him. Apparently my friend Scotty also ran into him just this past Sunday. The first thing he told Scotty was about the fact we broke up as though it had just happened yesterday and not nearly two years ago.

Sometimes I too long for the good ol' days, when life was more comforting, more predictable. Then again, it's the journey and surprises one finds along one's path that maintains a youthful spirit and a profound appreciation for life's many gifts as well as one's achievements.

After I left the busy cafe, I took an evening stroll down Broadway. It was a mostly clear night with a sliver of moon similing at me from high above. The air smelled fresh and clean after a day of showers intermittently rolled over the city. I noticed a certain calmness to Seattle tonight, which kept me at ease as well as feeling a strong sense of home.

Now that I am back home and in for the evening, I'm going to crawl into my nicely made bed with freshly washed linens. Then I'm going to pull the covers up over me, shut my eyes and allow myself to dream of all the wonderful things to come ...

Good night.

Erection Killers

2008-06-05T14:59:00.000-07:00

I've met a few guys in recent weeks who actually don't annoy me and who I actually like as well as find attractive. Well initially anyway. It's funny how one can go from having all kinds of items on their romantic interest wish list, to just hoping the people one meets won't be annoying fucks. OK, that's kind of taking things to the extreme, but you get my point.

In relation to the four men I've been actively dating over the past couple months or so, I recently let two go becuase they just didn't know how to listen. I know they're not deaf.

Despite fair warning, both faux deaf guys began applying an obsene amount of pressure in the early "getting to know you" stages. In fact, we'll call him faux deaf guy number two who bought me a ticket to a family outting on the Duck Tour. OK, anyone who knows me knows I despise that fugly white barge on wheels, which turns Seattlites going about their everyday lives into zoo exhibits. But it wasn't the activity so much as it was him pressing me to meet his family, barely more than a month into us seeing one another, after clearly letting him know I wasn't comfortable with this. I think most people would feel similarly. Too much too soon.

When faux deaf guy number two finally admitted to me he doesn't drive was also part of the tipping point. Duplicity equals b'bye. We broke up in email, which was oddly pleasant. Actually, I think faux deaf guy number one and I broke up in email as well. How very nonconfrontationally Seattle. Gotta love this isolated little passive aggressive Northwestern oasis of ours.

So now I'm left with the prickly pear and the wookie. A little fur is sexy, but too much makes manscaping a must. As for shaving body hair, please do so only if you're a competitive swimmer or cyclist. Being with a guy who shaves his body is like sleeping next to a cactus. I like being poked, but in the more conventional sense of the slang use of this word.

Then there was the "cocky" guy I met for the first time Tuesday night. Horrible self esteem party of one, your table is ready in the losers section. Good luck with all that. Please don't let me know how it turns out. Poor chump bastard. When in doubt, act gentlemanly. Why do so many guys think they'll get somewhere by acting like total douche bags?

The one common theme I've noticed is that most of these men expect something to develop despite not putting the effort into it. I don't mean elaborate nights out on the town at five star restaurants sipping 100 point wines, though I wouldn't be opposed to that either. No, I mean basic effort, like being able to simply hold and carry on an engaging, intelligent conversation. A little friendliness and humor can go a long way. Really. Yeah, it's that simple.

Speaking of conversations, the wookie critiqued my conversational style the other night. His idea of me rudely interruputing him was when I attempted to further engage him in his own topic of conversation by asking deeper questions. What an asshole. Five words: like it or leave it. Better yet, two words (brevity is king): fuck off.

What inspired this post? Foremost, these jokers who call themselves men. Secondly, a conversation with none other than my dearest Grace earlier today. She had a date last night with a guy who claims to never date.

Their first date was supposed to be late last week. He texted in the late afternoon the day of the tentative date to firm it up. She, like I would certainly have done, had already made other plans. Sorry, no man is worth waiting around for. If any man can prove me wrong about this, I will literally eat my own words on the heaviest weight paper stock with an "I told you so" chaser.

Last night Grace finally got together with this guy for a first date. They dined at a little Neapolitan joint in The City and then ended up back at her place. They shared a kiss on her chaise with no real sparks. A while later he tells her he doesn't really date and then said, "Will you go out with me?" To which Grace replied, "We just went out."

Of course I couldn't resist the opportunity to get some more mileage out of this one, so I emailed her the following:

Yes or No

I like you. Will you go with me?

Are you kidding me?! Even high school was a bit too mature for the use of the aforementioned phrase. I have the utmost confidence in Darwin's theory since so many "men" are living proof that man evolved from apes.

A good man is hard to find and a hard man might be all I'm up for right now ...

San Francisco to Coeur d'Alene

2008-05-15T09:29:00.000-07:00

May has so far brought with it some travel to two places I most enjoy in the Western U.S., San Francisco and Coeur d'Alene.

Both Grace, one of my BFFs, and San Francisco treated me divinely. She picked me up the evening of May 1, which was definitely a good day to leave Seattle with all the labor protests and what have you. We went directly to her favorite Russian Hill watering hole, Bar Johnny, a newer swanky lounge and restaurant. The interior was designed by the deliciously talented Swallowtail, which also has a phenomenal retail presence on Polk Street, which is the place to be if you're a trendy thirty something breeder in The City.

We enjoyed a couple cocktails, actually make that three since the bartender bought our third round. The chef brought us out a fresh summer salad to sample, a new dish he had been working on. The dressing was delicious as were the field greens, cucumbers, grated carrots, strawberries and pistaccios. We advised him to cool it on the red onions, and my biggest note to him was to use endive vs. field greens. Not only did he agree, but that was his initial thought as they would have paired best with the fresh strawberries. The only problem was that he uses only fresh, locally-grown, organic ingredients whenever possible (a growing trend among top culinary talent). Unfortunately endive isn't yet in season. Heck, what do I know?

Anyway, the following day, Friday, included a trip to the Boulangerie and Pete's coffee (Grace's favorite morning beverage). Afterward we readied ourselves for somewhat of a reunion lunch with a couple of my close college comrades, Jay and Alice, at a place Jay recommended in the Mission called Spork. Wasn't too sure what to expect. After all, it is the Mission and Spork has all kinds of grade school cafeteria connotations. I was very pleasantly surprised how modern, chic, delicious and inexpensive this place was. They are well known for their perfect hamburger. Jay, also a blogger, has had 17 of them to date and his goal is 25 before he moves to Brazil this summer. I had the carnitas, and I haven't had 'em that good since Mexico. Of course they had a bit of a neuvo Americana twist to them, which made them that much more delicious. Jay also introduced me to an outstanding beer called St. Peter's out of England. That was a real treat.

After an enjoyable visit with my ol' pals, it was off to Nordstrom to return Grace's Sunday best and find her the right dress for her Goddaughter's Christening. This is an event that also coincided with somewhat of a reunion for Grace, coming face-to-face with her most recent ex, who is also her Goddaughter's uncle, who she hasn't seen since she left him in NYC at the very tail end of last year. Both the aforementioned events were the underlying purpose for my San Francisco trip, though I don't need much of a reason to visit The City and one of my very best of friends.

We arrived at Nordstrom with the ensemble a sale woman had helped Grace select. It looked more cocktailesque, and the waistline on the jacket fell just below her breasts. It wasn't the go-to dress, so we needed to rectify this, stat. We roamed the floor for about a half hour with iced coffees in hand. We picked out a few dresses that looked much more appropriate. Of course the same sales woman was there as well as a bit nervous that she didn't find exactly the right ensemble to send Grace off to the Christening in. It was new, and nice, but it didn't flatter her in the slightest.

The sales woman asked us what would be more appropriate. We explained the nature of the event and I specifically requested slightly more earthy garments. Meanwhile Grace went off to powder her nose and the sales woman came back with a smattering of dresses. The first was a horrible knit sweater dress with diamond shaped fields of fading browns. I quickly turned up my nose at it. The next several looked like they came from the women's department at a sporting goods store. I told the woman we were going to a Christening, not crocodile hunting. The very last dress was this smouldering Hugo Boss number. Dark, smokey gray and chocolate brown color. It seemed to have cut lines in all the right places. We threw it in the mix, and might I say Grace looked amazing when she stepped out in it. It was pricey but perfect.

Before we left, the sales woman asked what I was getting out of the dress hunt, whether it be lunch or cocktails. I told her it was just for the pure satisfaction that my dearest friend was going to look and feel her very best.

Friday night in The City held a very special experience for me. After we returned to Grace's Russian Hill flat, we uncorked some bubbly and had a light nibble. Afterward we headed over to Peter's. He's a friend of Grace's friends, and on a weekly basis they have a dinner party at his incredible apartment, the most fabulous I have ever seen in The City.

On our way, two of the other dinner party guests flagged us down from Bar Johnny's. We joined them for one before dinner drink and then cabbed it several blocks over to Peter's. His building was out of a novel set in old New York. Huge, beautiful old world brick building with a marble foyer. The elevators were very deco, featuring a sliding cage door that had to be closed before the lift would move.

Peter's place was out of this world! He lives in a palatial two bedroom apartment with formal entry, dining room, living room, butler's pantry, etc. The mill work was unreal; insanely ornate and absolutely pristine. Best of all he has a stunning view of the city as well as the bay and Golden Gate Bridge.

Upon arrival we were offered some more bubbly as well as some very well grown reefer. While Peter and Grace prepped dinner in the kitchen, the other two gals and I sat in the living room and chatted while taking in the most beautiful red sun sinking into the ocean behind the Golden Gate Bridge. The scene was completely surreal. I almost pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. And if I were, I didn't ever want to wake up!

Dinner was, of course, amazing. Peter is a skilled chef. That night he was celebrating the signing of a lease for a restaurant space on Fifth and Market adjacent to Union Square.

The next morning we picked up coffee and Grace's softball gal pal. They had a double header in Marin County. I spectated, and what sights there were to see. The men in their league, which is composed mostly of Bay Area marketing and advertising execs, were scorching hot! As was the weather that day North of The City. I had on completely the wrong attire, so Grace snagged me one of the team's T-Shirts. Their team is called Four Play. The logo on the back was purposely intended to resemble the K-Y brand with the following tag line: "Slide into home."

After the games we found ourselves sunbathing on the waterfront patio at Sam's in Tiburon. This is one of mine and Grace's favorite spots. It's the place to see and be seen. My oh my was there a lot to look at. Mmmm ...

Unfortunately someone fed me a couple of tequila shots, and it was all downhill from there. Grace dragged my ass back to The City where we spent a pleasant night in watching old Strangers With Candy episodes that I brought with me on DVD. We grabbed a late night slice or two and then hit the hay.

The following morning we arrived to help dress baby Orlaith Mae for her Christening, armed with fresh baked pastries along with a refreshing, summer salad (one of my favorites) and a very special crostini I brought with me from Pike Place that we slathered with Beecher's blank slate honey cheese and topped with a tangy strawberry rhubarb jam. Of course we would be remiss if we didn't also furnish a nice bottle of white for this afternoon's reception. What can we say other than we're big fans of fine food and wine.

Grace's ex, we'll call him Moron since he's a big one for ever letting her get away, was a complete douche bag to me the first part of the day. Then I just sort of tuned him out. Clearly he was pissed off that I was there to support his lovely ex, making him appear more like the asshole he is. Bygones.

The Christening was held at the beautifully historic Mission Dolores, the oldest cathedral in San Francisco, founded in 1776. I could barely hear the priest over the hordes of rowdy rug rats running a muck, climbing over seats and horsing around in the aisle. I sound like an old curmudgeon, but I was a bit shocked parents would allow their children to act up during a religious ceremony.

After our day of ritual, gathering and celebration, Grace treated me to an early evening at El Rio. On Sunday nights it's where all the gays go to salsa dance on an outdoor patio to the saucy beats of a live salsa band. It was very festive and nice to have an ice cold refreshing beer or three to take the edge off of having to put our best feet forward all day long.

The following weekend was a complete juxtaposition to San Francisco. I drove my 92 year old grandmother and my aunt to see my mom in Coeur d'Alene for Mother's Day. After only two days I was completely exhausted. My dear grandmother is barely able to get around much on her own. She also gets very confused and requires a lot of extra attention. She's fussy about everything.

It's very challenging to see those we love deteriorate. The lady I remember as my grandmother always wore a smile on her face, was always laughing and joyful. She is also very wise, always advising me that "only time will tell." She is the one person in my life who has always loved and accepted me for exactly who I am. She has always been my greatest ally, wanting nothing more than my every happiness. Sadly, while I know deep in her heart of hearts she's still there, most of her has become something else, preparing for her life's departure and it's next journey through the cosmos.

Coeur d'Alene is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I looked so forward to and savored my lakeside morning runs in solitude. The dark green hills around the lake were still white capped from an above average winter of snowfall. A mountain crisp chill in the air concurred that spring had not fully awaken from it's long winter slumber. The lake was glassy still and the town also seemed motionless yet peaceful.

I would be remiss if I didn't observe the juxtaposition between the celebration of new life as well as the observation of those who gave life and those who are nearing the end of it; all over two weekends at vastly different places in the American West. From the hustle of bustling San Francisco to the quaint, natural charm of little Coeur d'Alene.

The pendulum of life does swing back and forth. Life has a certain melody. To hear it, one must pause on occasion to experience the blank space between the notes. Life also has a poetic harmony, one that may take an entire lifetime to be in tune with ...

Nice Sprinter We're Having ...

2008-04-30T17:18:00.000-07:00

Apparently Snoqualmie Pass was closed today for avalanche blasting. The DOT extended its winter road maintenance service in the mountain passes to May 19, which is more than a month beyond the typical end date. Emerging from winter, very warm weather is expected in May. It's almost like we've jumped directly from winter into summer.

Global climate change? Who's really to say. We haven't been recording weather patterns for a long enough history to know for certain whether our weather is dramatically changing because of humankind's activities or if this is part of a standard "cooling of the earth" cycle that happens every some odd millennium. It is definitely apparent that our weather is vastly different than it was say 30 years ago ...

The Gong Show

2008-04-27T01:25:00.000-07:00

By the end of the evening I kind of felt like givin' the ol' gong to my pal Scotty. Gotta love the guy. He's witty, articulate, intelligent, handsome and kind hearted (well, for the most part). Admittedly we always seem to have fun, even if we're somewhere lame, like at that fat straight drunk mess over @ re-bar he took me to the other night.

Anyway, he picked me up this evening in his roomie's ride. Actually, he has been staying with the coolest breeder couple in Seward Park (one of my favorite in-city neighborhoods) in exchange for teaching the wife English lessons. She is absolutely gorgeous and delightful. Very stylish, beautiful accent (I can't quite distinguish it - sounds Latin of sorts). Scotty just relocated back to Seattle from Rio de Janeiro via Portland a few weeks ago.

We grabbed him a small bite at Piecora's on the Hill and then onto the Stranger's Gong Show @ Chop Suey immediately following. It was a mostly breeder, hipster crowd tonight, but a good crowd nonetheless. We were packed in like a full 12 incher, and the joint was equally hot. OK, you know I had to go there to be cliche because I'm gay, oh, and stoned ...

The show was a fucking riot. There are some REALLY strange people in this town, including the guy who can hoola (yeah - that's right, I said, HOOLA) while playing the harmonica and two guitars, both of which are vertically balanced on his face! WTF!!! Who wakes up in life and thinks to themselves, "Gee, I'm going to learn how to hoola hoop with two hoops, play a harmonica with a neck rest while also playing and balancing a guitar on my face."???

My favorite act, and I think the crowd's too, was this he-monster of a drag queen, dressed as Marry Poppins, who did a number to "Spoon Full of Sugar" as well as a HUGE faux line of blow toward the end of the song. OK, I'm too stoned to write about it with any poetic justice, but trust me, it was hysterical.

After the show Scotty, who handed his car key over to me, insisted we go to this party at his friends' place further up the Hill on 19th. I wasn't really into it. Like any other thirty something Seattleite, I hate new people. OK, that's not at all true, just being a punk ass tonight. Don't know what's gotten into me. Heh-heh ...

Nah, I wasn't feelin' this party because for one I'm not secure in my friendship with Scott. It's not that I don't know whether he likes me, actually quite the contrary. I know he's fairly fucking wild about me. Despite having established many boundaries, this guy is as persistent as a meth addiction. Oh, that was a very poor analogy, but I'm about to lose my next thought if I don't continue on with my story.

So we end up at this party, coming in through the back door. No, that's not code for anything - we walked up the side yard and entered one of the most fabulous, contemporary stone patio garden spaces I have ever seen in my life. The yard was by no means big. In fact, the home is just your average, modest early 1900s cottage. But this place was dressed to the nines! The yard was very geometrically rectangular, not just the shape of it, but also of many of the stone materials and how they were laid out. Gorgeous stone patio with ground cover growing up between the stones. There were a couple of terracing retainer walls built of small, thin horizontal interlace-stacked stones. Two large, gorgeous Japanese maples stood proud and were splashed in uplights. In the very corner of the garden adjacent to the small, rectangular back deck was a square pond and fountain, which also was illuminated. Don't even get me started on the house, I haven't got all night for this post.

The people at this party were my age-ish. They were fantastic! Beautiful. Fashionable. Engaging. Warm. Friendly. Fun. Phenomenal. Several of these fine folks are good friends of Scotty's, so my resistance in going had more to do with not wanting to give the impression of being his "date," etc.

Well, despite better judgement, Scotty continued drinking. Incidentally I'd been drinking mineral water all night. Hey, I had a very sporty day and why ruin it by boozin' it up. Besides I need at least one sober night a week. Aren't I such the kidder.

Leave it to Scotty to drop a whole double gin and tonic on the original fir floors of this uber chic urban cottage. It's one thing to be a guest and spill, and I know he felt really bad/awkward about it, but he didn't even bother to help clean it up. I enlisted my services on bend and knee (don't go gettin' any funny ideas) to mop up the mess to near dry. Of course while on the floor doing clean up duty, it appeared as though I was the one who made the mess. I had just met all of these folks this evening. The artists, designers, advertising moguls, linguists, musicians - an impressive group, and I don't necessarily mean by pedigree. What a lousy first impression. I was pretty embarrassed, no more so, however, than when I engaged for a good 20 minutes in a conversation with Scotty and his roomie's brother about Bazooka, yeah, the bubble gum. That was classic.

The notable conversation I had was with a gentleman who was telling me about a recent conversation he had with a Bellevue High School teenage girl, who informed him that a girl has to shave her privates and kiss other girls to attract a boyfriend in this day and age. Boys and men are all alike; complete pigs! My how times have changed ...

The party peace de resistance (sp?) were Scott's uncontrollable hic-elches (hiccup belches). In fact, he wouldn't allow us to leave the party until he cured them. I sliced him off a big hunk of lime to eat. That always does the trick for me. It didn't work. He tried holding is breath. He tried drinking soda. He tried eating more. I told him this was likely his body's way of saying he should call it a night. He strongly disagreed. So I told him I needed to call it a night. He basically wouldn't let us leave the party until his hic-elches went away. It seemed like an eternity, but finally they subsided and after our third round of goodbyes we finally got to head toward my home.

Scotty insisted we go to the Cuff and then he wanted to go to the new Madonna CD release party @ Neighb-whores. I drove him in his borrowed car to the parking lot across the street from the Cuff, insisting he call a cab home. We'll see - he'll probably hook up w/someone so he won't have to drive home drunk. Lovely. On both counts. So I walked him to the end of the line, literally, hugged and kissed him farewell, then headed home to write this shit and fall asleep.

As you might have guessed the artists, designers, advertising moguls, linguists and musicians got me stoned. Actually, not at all true, marijuana did. I'm pleased to report it was really good shit! OK, this stoned-ass, postmodern urban fag has to gong himself. Thanks for coming out, you've been great. I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your waitress. G'nite ...

Everyday is a New Adventure

2008-04-22T22:24:00.000-07:00

I heard a great saying this evening: "Don't curse your bad luck until you're certain it's not good luck because it could be a blessing in disguise."

A beautiful older woman and culinary maven Diane recited these words at her incredible urban cooking school at the South end of the Post Alley. Diane has been a long time client and friend of my dear friend and Beacon Hill neighbor Mary, who runs Jonkheer, the best tulip stand at Pike Place Market. Mary was invited to bring a guest to tonight's class, so she invited me. What an honor!

We had six courses that were incredibly delicious with mostly all fresh, organic and locally grown ingredients. Our courses were paired with three different, local wines.

Diane, much like myself, lost a lot in her life about five years ago. To her, however, this turned out to be a blessing, an opportunity to create the life she always dreamed of. She was a delight and a complete inspiration, affirming my decision about a year and a half ago to join the journey of those on the road less traveled to personal fulfillment.

Reflecting back on the past few days, I've been living the dream. While I have been tending to work each day, I am loving what I do and therefore don't really ever work a day in my life. Not anymore. Additionally, I'm surrounded by so many incredible individuals who I am so privileged to share adventures with each day.

Friday night I went to an inde flick @ Varsity with my pal Scott. On our way into the theater, as we passed by the movie poster, the fellow walking behind us pointed to the poster and said, "There I am." He was one of the two stars of the film. He and his co-star stuck around for an audience Q&A after the show. While their film lacked soul and was mediocre, it was very engaging to discuss the filmmaking process (not all of which is creative). Scott fell asleep toward the end. It really wasn't that bad. We then sunk into another theater to catch the last five minutes of Phil Donahue's presentation after Body of War, the film he's promoting, ended.

We ventured back out into the bizarre late April snow and found ourselves @ Shanghai in the I.D. Phenominal Chinese food! I highly recommend the mushu pork. Mmmm ...

Post dinner we had a couple drinks @ the new Elite. I was still feeling a bit under the weather, so I'm not sure how great of company I was. Oh well ...

Saturday was pizza, movies and cookie baking at my dear friend Snow's home on Beacon Hill. We watched some Planet Earth and our feature flick, The Descent. OMG, what a totally freaky and disgusting film. I loved it!!!

Sunday I layed low, but yesterday I picked up Scott in Seward Park after a South end showing. We went to Ohana in Belltown, and behold they have happy hour all evening on Mondays! Happy-happy, joy-joy. After a fabulous dinner we ventured over to re-bar for Get Loweded, a variety show of sorts.

While the show stunk because it was created by and featured fat, retarded straight folk, I suppose it would be considered funny to most people once inebriated. They certainly handed out plenty of free booze, including these Dewar's and amaretto shots. They were delicious! Afterward we had a little post-funk Dick's.

Today began in West Seattle with a home inspection followed by lunch with my inspector, who is a good friend and a mild romantic interest. Today ended by taking some time to reflect on my days. I am grateful for today and all those I was fortunate enough to share it with ...

Quote of the Week!

2008-04-22T13:51:00.001-07:00

"Your wife will let ya fucker her in the ass if you promise to take her to Disneyland. It always worked for me!" - a business partner

French Onion Soup, Anyone?

2008-04-16T12:49:00.000-07:00

Feeling a touch under the weather today, and thought that French Onion Soup sounded appealing for my slightly ailed condition. Apparently there is a human who is uber passionate about this brew. Said individual has taken it upon himself to tour and taste French Onion Soup throughout the country. He's been to my neck of the woods several times, so I appreciate his descriptions. I'm going to Union Square Grill right now to try one of his top 10 recommendations ...

Here's his masterful soup blog: http://www.theonionsoup.com/

Enjoy!

Follyful Weekend

2008-04-14T10:42:00.000-07:00

What a follyful weekend. Managed to work some work in between play times. You know, that's really the way life should be lived.

Friday night featured a party at a friend's gorgeous old world condo on First Hill. OK, you know how it's not a party until something gets broken. Well, the partner of one of my closest friends broke a dining room chair. Not by thrashing it about like some belligerent rock star. Not with a chainsaw like some crazed stand-up comic. He was just sitting on it, and then suddenly the front of this antique piece splintered and ... well. Poor thing. Unfortunately it gets even worse for this guy, who confessed to me that he was already feeling a bit puffy that evening.

The following night we were at another friend's party at their fabulous, contemporary view home in Lincoln Park. Well, apparently my friend's partner got a wicked case of food poisoning and had a little accident. Allegedly the accident didn't actually happen at the party, but likely either in the car or upon arrival home. Apparently the renegade crap was very wrongly mistaken for a fart. The incident also involved some degree of vomiting. Oh, the horror! No wonder people turn into home bodies. Heck, I'd be traumatized ...

Saturday morning brought much excitement into my world in the form of an adorable new client. Unfortunately this particular client also came paired with a wife. Details, details ... She was sweet and kept saying "I-5" as if she were asking for a high five. They're from the Midwest.

We looked at inventory until just after midday. Who would've guessed we would've seen the first day of summer here in Seattle last weekend?! It was gorgeous - sunny blue skies and temps in the 70's if not nearing 80. Of course I took full advantage of it for an hour and a half in-line skate along Alki. Yes, it was hatefully crowded, but I do enjoy challenges, including human obstacle courses.

Then it was over to see friends on Beacon Hill with Slurpees in hand. They spiked theirs with rum, and I played with their feisty Chihuauah. Cruised home to the Hill for a disco nap, then off to the weekend's second party.

OK, I always assume most people have a sense of humor, which can sometimes get me into trouble. So when the Evite went out for this Saturday night bbq/party the weekend after my birthday, and the weekend before two of my other good friends' birthdays, I took the liberty of making mention of it on my Evite response. I also jokingly responded that I was bringing 48 other people. My two other birthday pals chimed in on the Evite as well, in jest of course, for example: "How nice of you to disguise our surprise birthdays by having a bbq." Apparently one of the hosts took our gags a bit too seriously and politely requested, via an email, that foremost I correct my response in terms of the actual number of guests I'm bringing. It gets better.

At the party, the hosts corraled the three of us birthday boys to the center of the party and made everyone sing happy birthday to us. They also bought us a beautiful cake, which was entirely delicious I might add. Either way, the three of us inadvertently gorilla birthdayed our friends bbq. I for one feel like a bit of an asshole, but that's alright. No bigger than the ass I made of myself being introduced to a single, pretty boy at the party. Well, that's another story I'm not quite ready to articulate at this time. I'm sure, thankfully, I'll have forgotten all about it by tomorrow anyway.

While at the party, I got a call from a good friend who just relocated back to Seattle from Rio via Portland. Somewhat exotic. We met out at a pub and then ended up at the Cuff. OK, I had been completely and utterly sober before we met up. A few beers later, and I'm actually entertaining his advances. Well, it wasn't just the beer. The man knows how to use his hands. That's all I'm sayin' ... Actually, truth be told, nothing scandalous happened in the slightest.

We closed down the Cuff, practically, then sang an '80s cover duet on the sidewalk along 12th Avenue when a car full of girls pulled up with their windows down (it was a surprisingly warm evening), who cheered and egged us on. A bit embarrassing, but it was a hoot and we'll never see them again anyway. Though it is Seattle, so chances are we probably already knew all of them in some way.

Next stop was Tacos Gringos, which is pretty delicious around 2:00 a.m. We sat in the window ledge, ate our tacos and shared a Fanta. Then we ventured back to my place a couple blocks away and settled in with some Strangers With Candy. OK, one episode, but it's one of my favorites. He spent the night. We just cuddled. His body language suggested much more than cuddling, but I played it cool. Though he didn't even get to second base, I did make him a pancake a sausage breakfast, really. That's not code for anything I assure you. Of course he used that as an opportunity to say, "Finally you're going to offer me some sausage."

Thankfully my new clients called that morning, so I was obliged to reconnect with them. Sometimes it's a real drag when one night lingers into the next day, even if mostly platonic. So I enthusiastically met back up with the clients, and then with a couple good friends for Thai food in Fremont afterward.

After lunch, one of my pals suggested hitting up Vivace in South Lake Union, a location/neighborhood that has connections to not one, not two, not three but four of my ex something-or-others. Ironically, he requested we visit that location because his ex works at both of the Capitol Hill locations.

We walk into the joint and sure as shit there's his ex and his ex's current boyfriend at the counter right in front of us. Of course my friend pulled the loser maneuver and bolted back out the front door, as best he could in a boot with a cain. I know we're getting a bit older, but this ensemble of his is just plain ridiculous.

Before I'm able to take a sip of my coffee, I get a call from my adorable out-of-town clients. They want to make a play for some property. Great! So I draft the contract, meet and go over it with 'em and then submit their offer. Have a few moments to catch my breath before my next meeting, catching up with a dear friend over some wine at Martin's. Apparently it was pianoke night. Well, that's what I'd call it anyway. People doing karaoke to live piano. We really just met up there to sit next to the hurricane fireplace.

I know I'm forgetting a few details from the weekend. Restful it wasn't but do you think I'm ready for a nursing home? Some 20-somethings probably do, but what do they know ...

How to Mix Cocktails

2008-04-11T10:49:00.000-07:00

http://www.howtomixcocktails.com/cocktail/

Another Year Wiser

2008-04-11T09:18:00.001-07:00

Yesterday marked passage into yet another adult year of life. Good times! Seriously though, this is often a time of reflection and taking stock.

Of interest to note was a reconnecting visit yesterday with a professional relationship that ended four years ago almost to the day. I suppose some things do come full circle in life .

A bit of celebration, the perfect eggs benedict brunch, dinner 'n' wine with good friends and a heart warming ice cream cake that read, "Happy Birthday Byotch." Well, if the shoe fits ...

Beyond that, I met another writer, a song writer no less, just before midnight. We talked 'til nearly 2:30 this morning. There's almost nothing sexier than a well-put-together, mature man who has a talent for being able to express himself eloquently and meaningfully in words. This chance meeting was by far the icing on my cake.

So, what have I learned this past year? Well, actually something that a mysterious man once uttered to me randomly in passing when I worked at Issaquah's Gilman Village back in high school. I was all of 15, had just finished my shift at one of the quaint village eateries and was standing out back on the brick walkway, waiting for my folks to take me home.

It was a cool but fairly dry spring day. A handsome, elder gentleman appeared literally out of nowhere. He had beautiful, thick salt 'n' pepper hair, glad lines along the sides of his eyes and he whistled gaily. The stranger walked right up to me, smiled at me both with his eyes and his mouth, and then spoke these words very matter of factly, "If it's gonna be, it'll be me."

I was a bit puzzled at first. Generally I would have anticipated a friendly hello. Not in that moment, not this man; he had something profoundly meaningful to say which has stuck with me now for nearly 20 years.

Before I could engage him to inquire exactly what he meant, he was gone, literally vanishing as quickly as he had first appeared to me. A moment later, my parents drove up. "How was your day?" they inquired. Still looking a bit dismayed, "Truly wonderful," I replied and smiled ...

More Random Quotes du Jour

2008-04-09T09:06:00.000-07:00

"Do we need to keep talking about how brilliant you are because you still haven't gotten over the fact your wife divorced you?" - Anonymous

"The worst part of you breaking up with this decent guy is that we can't just use one of our templates." - Grace

"I appreciate him being offended by you being so polite in thanking him because you feel guilty about dumping him." - Anonymous

"Beware of guys dressed like bushes hanging around outside your apartment." - Grace

Random Quotes du Jour

2008-04-07T15:58:00.000-07:00

"I flipped off some handycapped person today and Andrew got mad at me." - Grace

"Yeah, you can tell she came from an abusive household, her parents must've beat the fashion sense out of her." - Anonymous

"I didn't hurt your feelings, my actions did." - Jack

Remarkable Evening @ ACT

2008-04-02T21:50:00.000-07:00

Tonight's prized engagement found me at ACT - A Contemporary Theatre, a guest of my good friend John who is the new PR manager for a large travel industry company. As a prospective sponsor, ACT really rolled out the red carpet for John. We were part of a small group of eight individuals who were graciously received at a privately decadent pre-show reception in a gorgeous marble-walled hall. They had set out enough food and beverage to feed an army of glitterati.

ACT Artistic Director Kurt Beattie sat down beside me and before we knew it we were engaged in a fascinating conversation about the struggles involved with leading an altruistic life.

In speaking with Kurt I opined that unfortunately the two things people in our society don't pay enough for are art and content. What a gift art is to our culture, more so to our society and utmost so on an individual level. Nothing has had a bigger impact on changing hearts, minds and legislation than art and news content is critical for responsibly turning the gears of our republic. He sat back in his chair and then turned his body to a more open, conversational position. It was a sure sign he knew I was someone who really had something to say. I felt an immediate sense of respect and admiration. He certainly has mine.

Kurt continued to discuss the importance of showcasing art from other cultures, hence tonight's production of White White Black Stork, performed by a Russian theatre group out of Tashkent, Uzbekistan as part of The Ilkhom Theatre Festival. He said it's important to be immersed in art from abroad because we Seattleites and Americans in general are so very insular. There is so much happening in our world far beyond our front doorsteps that can enrich our lives intellectually and spiritually. Very true, and very visionary.

We discussed how much technology is distancing us humans, keeping us at arm's length from one another. Also anymore these days we are quite challenged to feel any real sense of true community. These very ideologies I talk and blog about fairly frequently. Great minds think alike ...

We then digressed into a conversation around real estate and homeowners associations. Apparently both John and Kurt served on their HOA boards to much discontent. In fact, Kurt had such an interesting experience he's in the middle of writing a comedic novel about it and has thought about turning his book into a production when it's complete. He opined that the human mind is so fascinating, that the cerebral cortex is such an amazing processor of thoughts and problem solving measures yet the endocrine system dumbs us down to the very basic, primal survival "skills" of fight or flight. Funny, I had such a devolved experience just this morning ...

They sat John and I front row center. The show was intimately spectacular. Our feet literally rested upon the stage, which was at the same level as our seats. Toward the very end a fight scene nearly took place in our laps. Quite exciting.

White White Black Stork was a tragedy of young dreamers who fell victim to a set of underlying cultural circumstances and misunderstandings. The ideologies of most of the characters were not too far off from our modern day Christian fundamental-extremists, who make very literal interpretations and are completely rigid about breaking with tradition or much less allowing others to think and feel for themselves. Such attitudes are very archaic, unloving and hypocritical.

A familiar theme from the show was the concept of basic, human happiness, which under strict Muslim doctrine, culture and laws did not allow individuals to pursue such personal fulfillment. While tragic, this wonderfully moving piece of art inspired me to realize we are so very lucky to have the opportunities we do to discover happiness and personal fulfillment for ourselves. Freedom is a wonderfully precious gift most of us take for granted each and everyday of our natural born lives as modern Americans.

Live free, love free, be free ...

and the oracle says ...

2008-04-02T15:17:00.000-07:00

LAST MONTH: Where will you be by the end of the month? Ha! How can you be so sure? I mean, you may well be right, but is life really so predictable? You need a little more spontaneity even if it has to come at the cost of some additional uncertainty. You are hanging on too tightly to a plan or a strategy. It's not necessarily a bad one - but nor is it the only one you could be applying. In becoming overly dismissive of alternatives, you are keeping a potentially better solution at bay. The universe wants to help you. That's why it keeps offering new options to contemplate. Don't feel obliged to rule them out due to loyalty to your original idea!

TODAY: Maybe we can repress certain instincts, but it is very hard to subjugate them entirely. You now know what you ought to avoid. Yet a part of your heart is not at all interested in convenient compromise. It wants the ultimate ... the best. It knows too that there is a chance of getting this. Sooner or later, you will find yourself pushing at the limits you have recently tried to impose upon yourself. That's appropriate really for as the New Moon approaches, you now need the strength to trust your deepest urges.

THIS WEEK: As we approach April, each day takes us closer to the point where first Mercury, then Venus, will enter Aries. Then, there will be a New Moon in this sign. So is that good news for Aries and indifferent news for everyone else? On the contrary. It symbolises the release of fresh energy. All of us, no matter what sign we are, will feel the benefit. First, we'll see something fall apart or come to an end. Then, whilst we are still bemoaning our loss, the phoenix will arise from the ashes. Somehow, in every life this week, something wonderful will emerge from a process that has been difficult.

As we now edge towards the annual New Moon, we find you beginning to run out of energy. You have not entirely lost your enthusiasm for a great aspiration but, rather like a tire with a slow puncture, you are slowly starting to feel jaded and deflated. Worse, as you continue to journey towards your destination, you can feel every bump on the road. Something needs to change. Faith must be restored but that probably requires a reassuring sign of some kind. What can lift your spirits? The cosmos knows, even if you don't. Prepare for a timely and inspiring boost.

All signs point to ... ???

2008-04-02T12:05:00.000-07:00

As of late I've been seeing the most lovely man, who I find attractive, sincere, loving and just all around fantastic. Yet something in me isn't allowing me to get closer or let him in further. He has called me out on it more than once, including last night. He said he senses I'm afraid to like him. Previously he said he felt I was holding back. It's still so new, and perhaps I am being appropriately reserved. This man possesses so many admirable qualities and cares for me in such a manner that is quite frankly incredibly divine. So why hold back?

We slept in this morning and then walked a few blocks up the hill for a coffee and a stroll through the park. What a gorgeous morning to be admired and adored by a wonderful human being who I also admire. I told him of some of my near term hopes and dreams, and he attentively listened as well as expressed his support of my desires.

We walked to the corner of a busy intersection where he was continuing in one direction and me in another. Spontaneously I decided to walk him just to the corner of the next block, even though it would be taking me 30 paces further away from my destination. We kissed goodbye, I turned 90 degrees away, crossed the street and continued my way down the West side of Capitol Hill.

One block later, as I was crossing the street, he suddenly emerged from an old brick apartment building and was nearing the same corner I was approaching. He being the man I fell deeply in love with not long after my seven year relationship ended. He being the man who walked away while telling me he was still in love with me. He being the man whose actions spoke louder than his words. He being the man whose words I listened to and longed to believe despite his inactions speaking to the contrary. He being the man who now avoids me as though I've wronged him in some way. He being a total manifestation of the reason behind the observations made by the lovely gentleman I'm with today ...

My heart dropped inside me when I saw him. Part of me felt obliged to say hi since we were so coincidentally standing practically within arms length on the same street corner. In fact, I was wearing a shirt he brought me back from Mexico. Instantly I wondered whether he had taken up residence in this building just a couple blocks from my apartment. He didn't appear as well groomed as he typically keeps himself. Perhaps he had spent the night with a trick. Perhaps he's seeing someone new. Either way it's really none of my business.

Instead of acknowledging his presence, I maintained my anonymity below my baseball cap and behind my dark sunglasses, casually turning 90 degrees away from him and regaining the 30 paces I had given to the other man I had just previously parted ways with. This time something in my gut directed me to avoid him.

Now I have to stop and wonder, am I still carrying something for him? If so, what and better yet why? Why now? Why after all this time? It has been well over a year since he told me to trust that he'll return to my life when he's ready. How selfish, unloving and open-ended - why should I even care anymore? Besides, we were only together for such a short time anyway. Perhaps what we shared during that time is something I'm having a diffiuclt time letting go of. Perhaps I'm naturally feeling awkward because we left things so unresolved and lacking any sort of closure. Perhaps it's because of how he reacted to me the last time we were in one another's presence a couple months back, cupping his hand to the side of his face, trying to slink by me unnoticed. Generally not an action that would leave someone feeling settled.

In every way I've moved on, but that doesn't mean I've moved beyond. I will though, soon ...

Spring Snow

2008-03-28T01:20:00.000-07:00

This has been a wonderfully enchanted season, marked by the rare falling of spring snow. The rest of the world feels a cold chill, and all I feel is my warmly beating heart. What a delightfully chilly time to be in loving companionship.

Fate has brought into my life a wonderful individual with whom I've shared much laughter and joy. I suppose it's also rare to immediately hit it off with someone new right off the bat. Even more so to want to see one another three nights in a row. No, make that four including last night and five if we rendezvous again tonight, which is in the cards. It's rare to feel such an awesome physical and emotional connection and have so many things to say and in some ways don't need to say anything at all ...

Snow may continue to fall this spring, and the day may yet bring us together again tomorrow. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow ...

Change Incarnate

2008-03-23T14:33:00.000-07:00

Change revealed itself to me incarnate just before 6:00 p.m. on Tuesday. Along my pedestrian stroll to an evening meeting, I witnessed a small crowd of rag-tag bystanders witnessing the same manifestation, capturing these fleeting moments with their digital cameras and video recorders.

Across the street, three industrial size backhoes were putting the final touches on ripping down decades worth of history on half of a city block. The giant yellow robots rumbled back and forth over the rubble, which was being dampened with fire hoses to keep the dust down.

Splinters of two-by-fours, piles of crumbled brick and concrete were all that remained of a woebegone era once represented by a row of buildings. These old commercial spaces were once home to many human activities: drinking, dining, outfitting and living to name a few.

As I walked up closer to the scene, the air was permeated with the smell of dankness; old moist dust, musty. The smell was cold and unwelcoming, hopefully not a sign of what's to come.

Later in the week I received a note from an old grade school friend, alerting me that my high school is being bulldozed this summer to make way for a brand new set of campus buildings. One degree of separation is that my close friend Max's company is the architectural firm designing the new school.

Max and I got together a couple times this past week, and I broached this topic with him. He said, "If it's any consolation, we're doing a similar project at my old high school in Medford." Well, I suppose it is much more comforting to broach change with someone who can also relate to it. After all, change is the one true constant in this life ...

Acronym Finder

2008-03-21T10:36:00.001-07:00

OMGYG! There's actually a website for looking up acronyms: http://www.acronymfinder.com/. Who knew ...

This post is in follow up to my January Modern Acronyms post. You know, acronyms beg the questions, have we really become that lazy or have we come to expect lightning speed/efficiency of ourselves in this instant gratification contemporary world of ours? Perhaps both ...

Top Ten Messages Left On Eliot Spitzer's Answering Machine

2008-03-17T16:18:00.000-07:00

10) Hey, what's new?
9) It's Barack Obama. Remember our conversation about being my running mate? Nevermind.
8) Ralph Nader here, glad to hear I'm not the only politician who has to pay for it.
7) I'm calling from the 'New York Post.' Would you rather be known as 'Disgraced Gov Perv' or 'Humiliated Whore Fiend?'
6) This is John McCain, if it makes you feel better, I once got caught having sex with Lincoln's wife.
5) It's Dr. Phil, call me if you need any horse**** advice.
4) This is Senator Larry Craig. Do you ever go through the Minneapolis airport?
3) It's Wolf Blitzer. Call me if you ever want a hot Spitzer-Blitzer three-way.
2) Paris Hilton here. I would have done it for free.
1) It's Arnold Schwarzenegger. Thanks, I'm no longer America's creepiest governor.

Juxtaposition

2008-03-13T18:16:00.000-07:00

<---Yesterday (Highway 200 in San Francisco, Nayarit, Mexico)

Today--->
(State Route 202 in rural East King County, Washington, USA)

Yesterday was sunny, warm and worry free.

Today was rainy, cold and I had more than plenty to do.

Mex. highway 200 is a highway I've never driven on. In fact, I've never even driven in Mexico, and this past trip I finally found a regular driver, Salvador.

SR 202 was the road I learned how to drive on. In fact, business was the reason I drove on it yet again today.

Yesterday was a gift, and thankfully so is today. As luck would have it, Mother Nature gave me one direct wink of sun today. I just snapped a photo of it a little while ago (as if it were some rare occurence here in Seattle - well sometimes it is!).

This was the one glimpse of sun bestowed upon me today. I consider it a gift from the Gods to help me adjust to the often shady Northwestern skies. Well, I suppose that's why I keep a home South of the boarder. Viva Mexico!!!

Casita Brisa del Mar

2008-03-05T00:49:00.000-08:00

In just a few short hours I depart for my tranquil home on the Mexican Riviera, a long overdue reprieve. It's no wonder I leave town so seldom. Today I pushed paperwork for a solid 12 hours in anticipation of being out for a week, all the while unclear when I would receive a phone call in the late afternoon from an overseas client in Hong Kong. Call and contract procured, a great way to begin a vacation.

Ah, but tomorrow afternoon I'll walk into my beautiful home, set down my bags, freshen up a bit and then sit on the beach with one of my best friends in the universe watching the sun melt into the Pacific while enjoying an ice cold Pacifico with lime. Mmmm ... I could think of nothing more fulfilling or rewarding.

The beach life beckons ...

Another spectacular sunset at the beach in San Francisco (San Pancho as the locals lovingly call it), Mexico on the evening of our arrival. (Heavy sigh ...)

Personal Growth & Evolution II

2008-03-04T00:21:00.001-08:00

So, I got to thinking some more about whether I was really sorry I conducted myself in the manner I did the other evening with that individual who treaded on my feelings by being duplicitous with me. That this person was so careless with my trust and feelings, despite having proclaimed romantic interest in me, I was floored. I suppose if I didn't care I wouldn't have reacted so passionately. I'm actually not sorry for how I conducted myself. One can't help how one naturally feels or used to feel.

Well, I got my opportunity to apologize. In hindsight, for what? Foremost this individual was nearly 40 minutes late for our lunch today. Beyond inappropriate. Clearly he's not the least bit concerned about where he stands with me, despite having been very clear he has a lot of work to do to earn my trust and respect. He could give a shit. When someone or something is top of mind, it's effortless. He claims to be successful in business yet used being ditsy as an excuse for rude behavior. Apparently he also thinks I'm stupid.

A friend of his who I once dated (thankfully for just a brief time) told me about an ex of his and her constant testing of boundaries, using unconditional love as a way to excuse herself from unacceptable behavior. It's not loving to treat others poorly just to see how far you can push their boundaries, personal limits, etc. Love begets love, though a few people have a gift for being able to give love unconditionally.

Upon revisiting the subject of his dishonesty, he attempted to once again invalidate my feelings, accusing me of reacting too strongly as well as feeling justified for being deceitful. He said he didn't make me feel any certain way, his actions did. Apparently he's not actually in control of his own actions. In fact, he more than alluded to others having mandated his actions. So I guess he can just point the finger at those people despite having allowed them to do his thinking for him. Perhaps if he knew what it was like to take ownership, have feelings, be a sensitive and compassionate human being, then he would be remiss for making such statements. Again, I'm having a hard time mustering respect for this individual.

While we as people should always offer love, acceptance and forgiveness, I think it is also reasonable as well as important to be true to one's self and maintain healthy boundaries. This individual also negates me by saying I have extremely high expectations of myself and therefore also of others. If expecting trust, honesty, integrity, respect, compassion and kindness is expecting too much of others, than do we just allow people to trample all over us? In this case it would appear the expectation is for me to conform to his way of thinking and abandon my value system. Sorry, but the minimum expectation is trust, honesty, integrity, etc. ... If that's asking too much, then there's little hope for humanity.

To rise above it all, let me just say I find it more than challenging to engage with people who insist on always being right. These kinds of people aren't big enough to take ownership of and responsibility for themselves and their own actions. Or to engage with people who aren't sympathetic and compassionate of others. Or to engage with people who exhibit a lack of respect and decency. This is sociopathic behavior, and while I see the good in all people, I fear this friendship would be very unhealthy at best. It takes a big person to own their shit. It doesn't feel good to own up to being dishonest with another person and injuring their feelings. If a person's unskilled actions warranted a little mud in the eye, then this pain is appropriate.

If this individual valued me so much, and I surround myself with many loving people who do (so I certainly understand the difference), then he would step up and be a gentleman. Why does he so carelessly and recklessly waste my time and energy? Guess it's all just fun and games for him. I hope he understands he's just playing games with himself until he can be a bigger person.

Personal Growth & Evolution

2008-03-01T18:44:00.000-08:00

Went on a little mountain biking excursion today in Snoqualmie with a couple of friends, one of whom I've a 19 year history with. The night before I connected with another friend of mine who I have more than a 20 year history with. There's something to be said about people who are capable of maintaining quality, long term relationships and there's something equally admirable about doing physical activity in the outdoors that really arouses the body, mind and spirit.

As I was feverishly pedaling up Snoqualmie Ridge, I got to thinking about my blog. I know, strange thing to ponder when one is pushing their physical limits. At any rate, I got to thinking more about the purpose of my blog. Based on a subsequent conversation I had with my BFF Grace, an incredible sounding board, I think this forum is more or less a medium by which I can monitor my own personal growth and development.

It's interesting how much one learns about one's self when one takes note over a period of time. What I've learned is that I've at times taken sheer pleasure in other humans' mistakes by pointing them out and making light of them. That's actually not very constructive nor the person I know myself to be.

To my core I am loving, supportive, kind, understanding, optimistic and very honest (sometimes brutally). What can I say other than I've recently experienced a couple rough years. That's no excuse. One's past doesn't dictate one's present, and one's present certainly doesn't dictate one's future.

My dear Grace has a friend who is a priest. I can't resist, I have to share this man's real name: Tom Collins. I find it ironic for a priest to share the same name as a popular cocktail. Not that priests don't drink because they certainly do. Maybe it's the question of how one can drink and still honor their vow of celibacy. Don't think I could be that person ... Anyway, I digress.

Father Tom had a recent conversation with Grace about what we humans need most in our lives. You may be surprised by these three very simple notions: love, acceptance and forgiveness.

After having heard this, I felt the need to come clean about a few things so that I may foremost love, forgive and accept my own behavior and secondly do the same for others.

Recently, I came down pretty hard on someone I care about after discovering he behaved in a dishonest manner. It's challenging to be loving toward someone when their actions trample over your feelings. Despite the circumstances, I didn't rise to the occasion to meet this challenge in the way I would have been most proud of.

While I feel justified having called a spade a spade regarding this individual's duplicitous actions, my resentment made it difficult for me to be as loving as I would have liked to have been. I'm looking for a good opportunity to apologize to this individual for the way I conducted myself. While I don't condone someone making me into someone I'm absolutely not with no reasonable basis to do so, I understand this individual's motivations. I forgive his unskilled behavior and hope he too will be able to grow from our mutual experience.

Personal growth and evolution is a process. Acknowledging one's own weaknesses is the first step in being able to take effective action to bring about positive changes.

I'm going to do some more thinking about this blog. When I take a step back for a bird's eye view of all my content posts, and connect that to others' perceptions of me, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if others are as quick to place judgment upon me as I have been in expressing judgment of others in some of my posts. It's not my place, nor is it anyone else's ...

A Casa de Alice (2007)

2008-02-29T14:20:00.000-08:00

OMGYG! Just saw this film the other night and it is one of the best works of cinematic art I've seen in a long, long time. A Casa de Alice (Alice's House) was shot like a documentary, and it is so very real. The viewer comes into the middle of this Brazilian family's life, which is a bit dysfunctional if not chaotic. I actually felt somewhat voyeuristic. Then the movie ends, leaving so much unresolved. It's so intimate and so real, I was convinced the characters weren't actors. Oh, and don't get me started on those hot, dreamy Brazilian guys ... About the only thing that put me off was a little bit of underdeveloped foreshadowing toward the end. As a whole, this is one brilliant film with a ton of heart and soul.

What's up w/McCain's face?!

2008-02-29T08:59:00.000-08:00

What in the devil is up with John McCain's face?! Am I the only one who has taken notice of that large lump of flesh on the man's left cheek? Either he has a giant gob stopper lodged on the side of his mouth or he's sucked so much dick it's broken the elasticity on his face.

I know, I know - give the man a break. He's 72, in which case one might as well write in Fidel Castro's brother for president. If American citizens of this vintage are having their driver's licenses called into question, then how could he be considered capable of being behind the wheel of our country? Hmmm ...

Tragic Curiosity

2008-02-27T20:47:00.000-08:00

This piece of artwork (pictured left) is the one and only creation of my birth mother's in my possession. Her youngest sister, my biological aunt Steph, sent it to me a couple years ago.

Nicki used mixed media, ink and watercolor, to create what I've interpreted to be a personal editorial, depicting her living hell. Not a pleasant way to remember a person I've never known. It's quite strange though, despite being perfect strangers, her life has made such a profound and lasting impression on me.

Nicola, as she was named at birth, was the daughter of a very unlikely pair, Anthony (Tony) & Urania Petalas. While they were both full-blooded Greek, they came from very mixed family backgrounds. His family would have been considered in the old country as peasants and she haled from aristocratic stock. So their children were a blend of the two.

Nicki was the oldest of four girls, and her life is the story of
the candle which burned twice as bright but only half as long. She, a tortured soul, was only 27 when she died. Peace be with her now.

Her survivors, my other blood relatives, describe her as strikingly beautiful, quick-witted and brilliantly creative. Nicki was uber intelligent with an IQ of 168. I'm told my pleasure in writing was her gift to me, passed down to her by my maternal grandmother.

Her life's tragedy holds many lessons. Primairly it is believed she didn't feel capable of living up to people's high expectations of her. This one piece of her artwork is like a ghost, a mysterious, dark spector that continues to haunt my curiosity about the woman she was, the life she lived and what parts of my own being exist from her blood.

Bruised Fruit

2008-02-24T21:55:00.000-08:00

"Hi, my name is, uh, B.W. Davis, and I'm a bruised fruit." Yeah, I'm going to feel like I'm at a fags anonymous meeting (no such thing, yet) with the topic I'm going to blog about tonight; dating and gay men.

I'm a 33 year old gay man, just a year and a half out of a seven year relationship which started not long after I came out of the closet. So dating is a relatively new experience for me.

I've dated a handful of men. It's always so exciting and fun in the beginning; the mystery; the intrigue ... Then it quickly implodes, more often than not for the same awkward reasons.

Perhaps it's my open book personae that readily draws my love interests' personalities out so quickly. My openness was always a winning asset when I worked as a news reporter. Sources always revealed to me the heart of matters in question, whether the source was justified. I always loved and am still so motivated by a tag line from the '90s TV series The X-Files, "The truth is out there ..."

Sadly, out of the many men I've dated this past year or so, all of them have one thing in common. They're all bruised fruit. What do I mean by that? Well, they all have moderate to severe emotional hang ups when it comes to love and dating, primarily deep-rooted insecurities. One fellow I was seeing just prior to the holidays texted me after he hadn't heard from me for a day or so. He wanted me to let him know whether I just wasn't into him anymore.

At that point, we had only been seeing one another for a few weeks and the holidays were rapidly approaching. Like most, I happened to be very busy with both my personal and professional life during this time. His action raised big red flags. First off, if he had concerns about where things stood with us, wouldn't that merit more than a text message? Secondly, he didn't know me well enough to make a judgment call regarding my feelings for him relative to what was going on in my life. We had been in contact nearly every day, if not every other, so how much more reassurance did he need from me?

The average gay male deduction, "Oh, this guy is really needy. Next."

My deduction, "Wow, I guess he's really into me already and needs some reassurance to comfort his insecurities. Hmmm ... my feelings just aren't quite there yet as it has been such a short time. He's a great guy, but I'm just not sure he's my guy. I don't think I have the energy for this ..."

Either way, he proverbially "boiled the bunny." Bunny boiling, by the by, hales from the infamous '80s flick Fatal Attraction. My BFF Grace first casually introduced this into our colloquial vocabulary about dating just a few weeks ago. Just tonight she inspired me to blog about emotionally bruised gay men, so I have to give her props for the title as well. Thanks, hon! Oh, so boiling the bunny, to us anyway, just means the love interest just revealed enough information about their incompatibility. It can also mean the love interest is over the top in terms of how they express themselves, their emotions and feelings.

Gay adult men seem to, by in large, have many hang ups. Issues around weak sense of self, self loathing and general insecurities are all at the top of the list. Sure, we all have our insecurities, but they seem to be magnified many times over with gay males for a myriad of reasons.

Foremost, the LGBT community has little if any love and relationship role models. LGBT parents are the minority and the mainstream media hasn't permitted us seeing ourselves in healthy, loving relationships until just recently.

Many in our LGBT community have been either emotionally or sexually abused. Many of us have serious familial issues, primarily relating to being ostracized by those closest to us; our parents, siblings, etc. As a result we have a very disproportionate number of people in our community who suffer from mental health issues. Sad, but true.

Being in the trenches of dating, hey all is fair in love and war, I've heard the same stories from numerous gay men over and over again.

"We were really into each other for about a month or so, and then he just disappeared"

"It seems like guys always know how to tell me what I want to hear, so then I really start putting effort into making things work and then it just fades away ..."

I could go on with similar quotes, but I've more to say on this subject. Our early LGBT equality movement seemed to revolve around coercing society to accept our sexuality and sexual habits. Especially after the free lovin' '60s into the late '70s, it was all about three things; sex, sex, sex. Then came the '80s and along with it the "gay cancer" a.k.a. AIDS. Sex became mortally wrong and the movement changed course with a more wholesome focus on family values. The gay '90s made it seem cool to be queer.

Today, we live in a more obscure and disjointed world. As much as it connects us on various levels, technology has also literally ripped our social fabric to shreds, making it seem near impossible for people in our brave new world to feel any genuine sense of community. We are all so physically isolated from one another now. Everyone expects everything to happen overnight, even when it comes to love and relationships. Everyone expects people to show up practically made to order. Match.com is a veritable human catalog with people just thumbing through page after page of profiles until they think they've found Mr. or Ms. right.

The very concept of dating is very bizarre to me. Two perfect strangers, who nary know a thing about one another, sharing aspects of their lives in a romantic setting (usually, not always) with the unspoken hope that perhaps, just maybe, he or she is "the one."

I do believe there is a lid for every pot, but is there just the one? Could there be many that would be suitable? I personally believe so. I'm not talking about polygamy or promiscuity, but rather about there being many different people who could be our soul mate.

Then there is the more popularized belief that we, like penguins, mate for life. Well, perhaps that is ideal, to find the one person you can just grow old with. Lord knows that's been my ideal since I was a child, but that certainly hasn't been my reality.

Once I had a bit of an encounter with a man, who afterward told me he was partnered and in an open relationship. Apparently his partner had major surgery of some kind, is older and is rarely able to copulate. I asked this man whether he was happy in this relationship. He said he loves his partner very much, but the relationship isn't all that fulfilling, and not just because of their lack of intimacy. He said he is Catholic, therefore he made a commitment to his partner for life.

You know, that is a very admirable idea. However, why would a gay man, whose very faith is called into question by the Catholic church, choose to adhere to this ideology? Not to mention, most importantly, why should anyone compromise their happiness if a relationship ceases to serve its useful purpose?

Oh, the woes of dating, especially gay men. Here are a few tips on dating, so listen up, especially you fags:

#1 Be genuine, open and honest. Don't play games. It's OK to be a bit of a challenge, but don't let it get out of hand and don't be deceitful or duplicitous. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Be clear and direct but tactful. All healthy relationships, whether platonic or otherwise, are founded on trust. This is my number one because it is an absolute non-negotiable and potential deal breaker.

#2 Always give the benefit of the doubt until you have enough information to make educated decisions about how a person's M.O. (method of operation) is going to jive with yours.

#3 Put your best foot forward. Life rewards action, and you never know exactly whether this might be "the one," so put some fuckin' effort into it.

#4 Be realistic. Keep in mind people do what they want to do. So if someone isn't calling you or making a real effort to see you, you're probably not top of mind. There may be a good reason for this, or he may just not be that into you. Besides, chemistry either exists or it doesn't completely separate from the two individuals it concerns. You're probably tired of hearing this slang phrase, but it is what it is.

#5 Be loving. Love begets love. This is a classic example of the law of attraction. Like attracts like. Similar attracts similar. That doesn't mean a blond will attract a blond, but rather someone of a certain mindset and emotional state will generally attract similar or repel opposite.

#6 Ask for what you want and don't settle for less than what you deserve. Don't operate based on fears. Who cares if you get rejected. He probably snores, has IBS or boils bunnies anyway.

#7 Have fun! If it's too much work at the beginning it's likely not going to work out. Then again, see tip #3 and then listen to Kenny Rogers "The Gambler." You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em ...

#8 The feelings you spare out there may be your own. Be kind, compassionate, upstanding and understanding.

#9 Be ready for love. I can't stress enough how important this is. I fell madly in love with a man who had an extreme amount of emotional baggage and mental health issues to deal with. We had to end our romantic relationship so he could heal. I was devastated. So please don't put yourself out there unless you're healthy enough to be out there. Refer to the previous tip #8.

#10 Listen to the other person as well as to your gut instinct. After a while you'll quickly learn to identify what works for you and what doesn't. Then act accordingly.

Bottom line is, in every relationship (platonic or not) we work our own shit out on one another. We test the water, push boundaries and set limits. It's only human, especially to err. It's the process of discovering how compatible you are with another person for the long term that is truly an adventure. Sometimes, even after years and years of being with someone, you don't truly know them until certain situations of pomp and circumstance come to pass, bringing the person's true colors vibrantly to the surface.

Just like the X-Files tag, love is out there. I've experienced quite a lot of it in one form or another. Perhaps someday soon it will find me again. In the meantime, I'm going to rub some arnica on all my tender spots ...

Super Skanks

2008-02-19T21:15:00.000-08:00

There's only one word for this pathetic piece of inbred white trash: mess. Britney Spears is a total disaster. C'mon, honey, pull yourself together. Sure, you're battling some mental illness, but you're over medicated and don't know how to take care of yourself.

And then there's loser Lindsay Lohan, who was totally cracked out on her way to rehab. Oh, poor child doesn't know how to party. She can't hold her liquor or her coke very well. What a mess.

What do these two bimbos have in common? Blonde hair, loose vaginas, cheap gray sweatshirts from American Apparel and equally bad taste in lifestyle habits. You go, gurls! Lord have mercy, Jesus wept on these two ...

The ironic LGBT equality crusade

2008-02-16T20:57:00.000-08:00

About the most ironic thing I've ever been assigned to do was to be on point as a spokesperson for America's largest state/local LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) chamber of commerce when the Washington State Supreme Court handed down its 2006 decision on LGBT marriage equality. The court's decision came on the heals of me leaving my partner of seven years. I know, also in question is the cliche around the alleged seven year itch. I can assure you that certainly wasn't the case for me.

The court's majority opinion on marriage equality gave Washington's LGBT citizens the big middle finger, passing the proverbial gay hot potato back over to the state legislature to decide. Um, hello, the legislature has been embroiled with this battle for like the last 30 years, mmmkay. Not to mention, it's the court's duty to overrule any archaic and unconstitutional laws, like the state's Defense of Marriage Act, the state legislature illegally ratified in the first place. Let me share with you Section 12 from the state's constitution. It goes a little something like this:

"No law shall be passed granting to any citizen, class of citizens, or corporation other than municipal, privileges or immunities which upon the same terms shall not equally belong to all citizens, or corporations."

Worse yet, the court's majority opinion asserted protecting procreation as the primary justification for its decision to not overturn DOMA. The legal implications of this ripple far beyond marriage equality into the realm of same gender families and adoption, turning the clock of the LGBT equality movement back 50+ years.

You know, there are some pretty great things about being a gay man. Foremost, gay men don't have to worry about reproductive issues. We don't have to worry about feminine hygiene issues, thank goodness (though many gay men purport to have periods). Best of all, by in large, we generally have a savvy sense of style, home decore and culinary creativity (or mechanical ability if you're a lesbian).

On a serious note, I think most LGBT people have done quite a bit more soul searching than the average person finding themselves in a culture and society that still struggles to accept our kind as full human citizens. Oddly enough, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in the late 1800's corporations have all the same rights as living, breathing American citizens. Really, this is absolutely true. Scary, isn't it. Well, on the other hand, I wonder whether that means one can legally wed another person of the same gender so long as the two individuals incorporate. Hmmm ... some couple ought to try that out sometime. Sounds kinky ...

Interestingly enough, Washington's hetero couples are granted 460-some-odd rights with marriage and nearly three times that number of rights with federal marriage laws. In 2007, Washington's same-gender couples managed to procure 12 of those rights with the passage of the state's domestic partnership law. Oh, and LGBT Washingtonians also became a protected class when we were added to the state's anti-discrimination laws in 2006. In our state it has taken about 30 years for us to get somewhere. Hey, better late than never.

My dear friend Grace said it best, "You know, it's actually quite liberating being gay because you have so many choices being made for you and a lot less to lose." In all seriousness, we still have so much yet to gain. Um, I think we're still short some 1,450 rights our hetero counterparts enjoy taking for granted everyday. My God, hetero Hollywood celebs marry and divorce as if they're passing notes around to one another in junior high, mostly in the name of raising a few eyebrows and headlines. Some celebs only enjoy their full federal and state marraige rights for a few days or even a few hours before getting divorced. Well, I guess they're just rigorously exercising their rights as full human citizens under the law.

So are we gays really setting a poor example of family and American values, juxtaposed to the so-called "moral majority," becuase I'm a bit fuzzy on that as of late. After all, we are only human, or at least most of us are anyway ...

p.s. I don't think any of my dirty tricks would be keen enough to know where to begin to destroy civilization. White, heterosexual males, on the other hand, have created all kinds of ways to destroy civilization: nuclear weapons, mutant viruses, trying to match plaids and stripes, etc.

Shop Talk

2008-02-16T11:31:00.000-08:00

So my girlfriend Snow and I met at 4:00 p.m. on Friday for happy hour. OK, premature happy hour. OK, shopping and then premature happy hour.

One of our trusty stops was to Nordstrom's flagship store downtown. Admittedly we initially ventured in to see whether the beau hunk, who flirted with me to no end when he rang up the fantastic shirt I purchased for that hoedown party several weeks ago, was on the job. Unfortunately he wasn't, but Snow and I had just as much fun on the main level playing with all the jewelry and accessories.

A favorite section of the store is the extensive sunglasses area. Walls of small cubbies backed with mirrored glass featuring the latest in primairly women's or unisex designer sunshades for the eyes.

Snow picked me out an obnoxious pair of oversize, black and jewel encrusted D&G's to try on, and said. "These are the kind Britney Spears wears," as I was placing them on my face in the mirror.

"Um, these look like shit, but doesn't that just figure if Britney is into such garrish accessories from this particular designer," I replied. "If Britney is wearing these, no one in their right mind is going to buy them. Bad move for Dolce & Gabanna having such a garbage person as a poster child for their brand."

As I was making these remarks I hadn't noticed the slender (gaunt) older sales woman (probably around 60ish) who turned the corner sharply, with her gray hair pulled back tight, head to toe in conservative black with matching black high heel boots. She leered sharply at Snow and I.

We were just walking away, and inside I felt a slight burning about how passive aggressively rude this woman came across in the sneering look she flashed our way. So, I turned back around to her and gave her one of my favorite lines from AbFab.

"You can drop the attitude, you only work in a shop," I recited. Then we continued on our way out of her accessory domaine. Rude. Totally un-Nordstromlike.

Was the sales woman upset because we were fondling her $300 - $400 accessories or was she upset about the comments we made about Britney? Either way, she's not commissioned to have a dissenting opinion as much as she was hired for the primary purpose of serving habitual shoppers like Snow and I. I mean really, we were just having a little fun. Isn't that what shopping is all about?! Bitch ...

Be Mine (4 the Moment)

2008-02-15T12:13:00.000-08:00

Here's a little Valentine's Day inspired goodie (with a twist) I found on another blog site. Click on the image to link to the actual post, it's festive and fun!

My life's greatest disappointment ...

2008-02-11T15:08:00.000-08:00

Growing up, there were few things in life I wanted more than my very own Easy Bake Oven. Really.

I'd see those '80s TV commercials with the little white girl and the little black girl putting yellow cakes and brownies into their orange Easy Bake. They'd watch lovingly and longingly through the little window as the batter rose backlit by the special lightbulb, which doubles as the oven's heating element. They'd lick their lucky lips in anticipation of taking their hot cakes out of their fantastic little oven to ice them. Fucking bitches!

No, I never got my Easy Bake Oven. While my parents didn't mind that I played with my girlfriend Tara's Barbies, they wouldn't get me one of these damn ovens. Sexists, I tell you - raving, bigoted sexists ...

Look at how much fun that little blonde bimbo on the box in the above photo is having with her Easy Bake Oven. It's not fair!!!

Well, my girlfriend Grace has hinted that I may one day yet receive my prize. We'll see ...

In Loving Memory of Tido | 02/07/05 - 09/18/07

2008-02-07T19:22:00.000-08:00

Coinciding with the celebration of year 4705, based on the ancient Chinese calendar, today also marks my dearly beloved Tido's third birthday.

To know Tido was to love and adore him. He had quite the personality with an incredibly humorous disposition and was so completely loving. I suppose the majority of animals love unconditionally, which is why it's so easy for us human folk to fall for 'em.

It was also our special bond that made him what I loved most in and about this world. How could I help myself? I picked him out, raised him, took him out at first light, nurtured, played with, loved and disciplined him. He was my pal, my special little guy, and he had my adoring attention every single day except during the last part of his tragically short lived life.

I lost my baby twice in one year. The first time was when I left my partner of seven years, allowing him full custody. The second time was when Tido left this world the morning of September 18, 2007. I like to believe his soul was too great for his earthly body to contain.

At the very least, I am comforted by the thought Tido is released from earthly pains or irritations and his spirit lives on with profound joy, which is what he brought in abundance to everyone who was ever fortunate enough to have crossed his path in this life.

I am sorry I wasn't there for you. Rest in peace, my dear sweet, loveable Tido. My faithful companion, you are sorely and profoundly missed ...

Happy Chinese New Year

2008-02-07T19:20:00.000-08:00

YEAR OF THE RAT

The Eastern zodiac sign horoscope system is one of the oldest in the world of astrology. The origin of Chinese astrology dates back to the era of the Shang Dynasty.

Rats mark the commencement of the cycle of 12 Chinese zodiacs and thus are associated with enterprising and aggressive qualities. To start with listing the traits of a Rat, it is important to first know what this animal image stands for in Chinese philosophy.

Rat has strong associations with material success such as wealth and other luxuries of life. It is their aggression, charm, hard work, discipline and passionate nature that gives an edge to their persona in comparison to others. There are good chances of Rats being wealthy and professionally successful in their lives. They are quick, energetic and mold themselves easily according to the situation, which makes them excellent problem solvers too. Unlike most of other zodiac signs, Rats believe in having a handful of friends, but they share a special bonding with all of them.

When it comes to competition, nobody can be as manipulative as they are. They are tactful and can go to great extents to win a battle. Yet honesty and unprejudiced attitude is something others need to learn from Rats. A heavy karma chakra may lead to inner conflicts. It is likely for them to indulge in speculation and other adventurous tasks in order to give an outlet to their emotions. If this kind of an outlet is not available, they might turn to self-destruction. The best spiritual message Chinese sages give to Rats is to observe self-control and be considerate while dealing with people around them. Their dynamism can be accessed with the diversity of professions they can choose. On one hand they can lend a perfection to works of art in literature, on the other hand they can also be excellent detectives, accountants, engineers and pathologists. Law and politics are some other areas they can try their hands on.

Hope this year of Rats 2008 becomes the harbinger of health, wealth and good fortune for all of us.

Meadow yesterday, street today ...

2008-02-07T18:48:00.000-08:00

This afternoon I was driving between Eastside client appointments. I had to pull off the freeway in my hometown to fax a contract change to a client out-of-state. I drove down the main boulevard through town and spotted a copy/fax shop on an unfamiliar street corner. I looked up at the intersecting street sign hanging perfectly square on the gleaming, ornate new traffic light post. Searching my memory, I couldn't place the name of the street for the life of me, and don't recall there ever having been such a street at that location before. In fact, my car would never have sat idle at that spot before because it never used to be an intersection.
As I looked down this street that previously didn't exist, it was lined door-to-door with big box and large chain retailers, which would never have been in my hometown growing up. I looked back up at the surrounding and lushly forrested hillsides and mountains for some hints of recognition. They appeared the same, except with dozens more rooftops poking up out of the timberline.

When I finally reached my destination, the people wandering about this large chain store were from a myriad of cultures, many with thick and varying accents. I searched the place to no avail for a familiar face. It became blatantly obvious this was no longer my hometown. Now I remember where I was, a beautiful meadow once peacefully existed where this street and retail complex now sprawl ...

Well, I guess the good news is this dead meadow today enabled me to conveniently send my client his document via fax. Cool.

Fresh @ Pike Place: Romance

2008-02-03T22:38:00.000-08:00

Life is a little bit funny at times as much so as it is wonderfully mysterious. It seems as though everytime one door closes, another one always opens. Suffice to say it has been a good weekend and a wonderful day in particular. Wonderful why or wonderful how or wonderful who? All of the above, especially the latter. Ever just bummed around with someone new, doing anything and nothing in particular, and had an incredible time?

Well, suffice to say I was in great company today. This is going to sound a bit emotionally bruised of me, but it's very refreshing to spend time with someone who has something to say, is very sincere, genuine and expressive. He's also quite handsome, very bright and extremely kind too.

Spent several hours bumming around town with the aforementioned/described man today, meandering from South End to the I.D. to Pioneer Square and then finally to The Market for a bit of a culinary crusade. Apparently we both have a sweet tooth and a fondness of good comfort food (a blessing and a curse). I can just hear Grace's sarcastic voice in my head now, "He likes soup - you like soup!"

Anyway, after a couple decadent mini-cheesecakes, a dark chocolate cherry truffle and a few bites of delicious mac 'n' cheese (w/real handmade cheese), we made our way into the piroshki place. Yeh, a bit gluttonous, but decadently fun nonetheless. He ordered his favorite piroshki, we walked a step outside the front door of the shop, huddled in a small nook just off the sidewalk, and shared the hot, savory Russian pastry. Mmmm ...

He happily stood with piroshki in one hand and the paper to rest it on in his other. He took the first bite and subsequently showered the front of his black button down shirt with piroshki crumbs.

Perhaps I should have just kept my trap shut, but I wouldn't let any of my friends walk around a crowded public market practically coated head to toe in pastry flakes. I couldn't help myself; he looked so cute though. The smile I felt inside erupted into a grin big on my face and I advised him I was going back in to get us some napkins. He surprised me a bit when he mildly gestured and informed me he had some napkins in his right pocket ...

I paused for a moment and turned back away from the door to the shop. Yeah, I accepted his subtle invitation to further invade his personal space, more specifically to intrude his pants pocket. Why wouldn't I?! Quicker than I realized, I had stepped closer into him and reached my hand down into his pocket. I rifled around a bit for the alleged napkins which I thought at first evaded my reach. I was a bit on auto pilot and finally came to my senses realizing the napkins were nowhere to be found. Our faces drew nearer, and I let him know I wasn't having any luck ... or was I?

The language I thought I was clearly speaking transformed from plain English into a dull mumble followed by the first of two sweet, fledgling kisses in the center of The Market in the heart of the city. It was one of the best surprises I've had all year.

Oh, then he tells me the napkins were actually in his left pocket as he pulled them out and held them up high as if to offer them into evidence. Apparently he had a free hand after all, and I have to admit it was the best piroshki I had ever had. I'll never think of piroshkis in quite the same way again.

Homecoming

2008-02-02T22:01:00.001-08:00

So I have another BFF, but she's local. We'll call her Snow. I just arrived back to the maxi pad, a.k.a. my Capitol Hill bachelor apartment, from having attended her and her husband's "it's not summer" barbeque on Beacon Hill/Georgetown where I once resided.

Snow and I used to work together along with Grace at a company that placed creatives within the new media industry. Well, I'm not quite sure if you can actually call what we did "work" per se. Snow used to joke about being my career hurdle. I'm sure I was equally her's, but we can take that streetwalk down memory lane another time ...

Something felt very different about tonight's gathering. For starters, at the last gathering of theirs I was very discontent with my life. I've experienced quite a bit of loss and gone through many changes over the past year and a half. To say my life has in any way settled down would be a horrible joke, about as funny as G.W. Bush being thought to possess an ounce of integrity.

Tonight was different. It was through the words of Flora, one of our wonderful neighbors, that I realized just how much of a family I had surrounding me in my former neighborhood. I had to walk away from all of them along with my dog Tido, my partner of seven years and my beautiful view home in the woods. Walking away from a life is difficult, especially one that was so warm, familiar and as comfortable as mine was.

The beautiful thing about tonight is that I finally, after not one but two back-to-back failed relationships, the loss of my home and my dearly beloved dog, I finally feel like my whole self again. I finally feel like I can be at a social gathering of wonderful people, like the one I so thoroughly enjoyed tonight, and really connect and contribute. In return, I experienced such an incredible amount of love, joy and belonging.

It's rare, especially in these high tech times, that one can find a sense of community at all. Despite having walked away from a life I worked so hard to build and achieve, it is still with me. My dear neighbors, who are way more like a family than a community, have reminded me that home truly is where the heart is, and my heart is still there with all of them.

Anyone who thinks it's easier to say no vs. yes in this life is dead wrong. I had been saying yes to a life I was comfortable and happy with to a point, but in a very fundamental way also very miserable with. Saying no to it was the single most challenging decision I've ever made in my life. I tore off and broke painstakingly free from the shackles that bound me away from life's complete happiness, then subsequently ran the gauntlet. Here I am, 1.5 years later, nearly full circle and a whole lot wiser to say the very least.

This is my rebuilding year and a new period of expansion for my life. I plan to break ground for the construction of a new home on my Beacon Hill property by year end, and rejoin the family I had to physically wander away from to sort things out with a particular piece of my life so I could be happy and fulfilled. Guess it's all part of the process of personal growth and evolution. Sometimes one has to take a big step backward to make two leaps forward. My mama never said life would be easy or fair ...

TGIF!

2008-02-01T23:12:00.001-08:00

Bringing Visiting Back

2008-02-01T18:41:00.000-08:00

Some time ago, Grace began interjecting the term "visit" into our conversations as a way to express social behavior that isn't quite in line with the actual definition of visiting, but somewhat harks back to days woebegone. Oddly enough, Grace and I didn't become BFFs until long after she moved away to SF, so we do all kinds of visiting.

Anyway, the type of visiting she intended is somewhat of a lost artform. It's the kind of visiting one would consider doing at tea time with their lovely and well refined grandmother. You know, the kind of visiting you do when you just sit and visit with someone, well poised at the edge of your seat, legs held closely together and your knees nearly touching one another's. You sit there facing one another at an open angle with your hands placed femininely upon the tops of your legs. You gaze fondly at one another as you enjoy another sip of an exotic tea from the Far East. You smile and perhaps toss back and forth some light, gay banter.

Oh it's the simple pleasures we lack in this complicated 24/7 on demand world of ours. Take a moment to enjoy the company of someone you admire and just visit with them for a while, like First Lady Nancy Regan and Princess Diana of Wales are doing in this photograph:

CAPTION: Notice our dearly departed Diana really knew the proper way to visit with someone. She was a dignitary in every sense of the word. Unfortunately our beloved Nancy really didn't represent the United States of America very well to the rest of the world when it came to visiting. Look at her slouching forward, hands all disheveled, legs folding every which way. Osteoperosis or not, she's a mess!

Here's an even greater challenge. Try just dropping in on a close friend spontaneously sometime, just to visit for a while. Does anyone drop in on anyone else anymore these days? Time is precious, but not when you're unable to spend quality time with those who mean the most to you in your life.

Sunset @ the North Pole

2008-01-31T10:08:00.001-08:00

My dear Poops (that's our affectionate nickname for one another) just sent me the below photo and caption in response to my Star Dusk post I shared with her about the sun setting on Seattle. In fact, she rang me out of the blue the very evening I took the Seattle sunset photo to draw my attention to something I was already observing. On different ends of town we were both simultaneously watching the bright orange globe melt into the sea and over the Olympic Mountains. We were both gazing at the same sunset and for some reason she thought of me at that very same moment. What a delightful surprise to hear from her, especially when she called to draw my attention to something I was similarly enjoying.

There is a certain power around connections like the aforementioned. Jung described them as "synchronistic experiences." Much of his psychological study and practice was devoted to synchronisities in life. Fasinating subject ...

Sunset @ the North Pole

CAPTION: A scene you will probably never get to see, so take a moment and enjoy. This is the sunset at the North Pole with the moon at its closest point. You also see the sun below the moon. An amazing photo and not one easily duplicated. You may want to pass it onto others. The Chinese have a saying that goes something like this: "When someone shares with you something of value, you have an obligation to share it with others!"

Well, I think my work is done here in this moment ...

Dark Night of the Soul

2008-01-31T08:37:00.000-08:00

During my last visit with my acupuncturist, we talked about the winter season here in the often grey Pacific Northwest. Eric referred to it as "the dark night of the soul." What can I say, the man goes deep and is a really great resource for me to talk with and use as a sounding board.

Eric is a classic five element acupuncturist. He incorporates a Daoist approach to treating his patients. Simply put, he doesn't treat the individual patient as much as he treats his own reaction to the patient and where they're at physically, emotionally and spiritually in the present. The Daoists believe everything is one. For example, you the reader are the same as the screen on which you are reading this text.

Scientifically speaking, everything in the universe is composed of the same basic building blocks of matter and energy. In classic five practice, that would translate to elements. I digress ...

Upon further reflection around my last entry, this is a very difficult time of year for most Seattleites and Western Washingtonians. The days are short and the sun is often drown out by clouds. The ancients who originally called the winter season as "the dark night of the soul" created many festivals involving light, which still rings true today. The ancient Chinese believe spring starts in early February, hence why they based their New Years celebration during this time. I think most would aggree spring is an appropriate time of year for new beginnings.

A friend just advised me it is predicted by 2010 depression will become the second greatest reason worldwide for disability. For anyone who may be suffering from dipression and lonliness during this time of year, take in some light. Travel someplace where the sun shines. Take an evening stroll through the heart of the brighly lit city. Keep your home well lit in the early morning and/or the evening. Take in some light reading. Most important of all, connect with associates, friends and loved ones. As my friend pointed out, technology has moved us further away from not only ourselves, but also from each other in many ways. It's very important for us as people to remain connected with one another.

On February 7 we will pass from the dark night of the soul into a brand new year according to the ancient Chinese calendar, which shows the upcoming year as 4705 vs. 2008.

Star Dusk | Urban Eclipse

2008-01-29T23:22:00.000-08:00

Capturing the setting sun as observed intensely beaming through the glass windows of a Downtown Seattle office skyscraper. The verb capture is such a misnomer in this context. A person can capture a moth, but the very thought of capturing a star in any respect, something so incredibly massive and so many dozens of times larger than any of the planets in our solar system, is silly to say the least. I suppose that's why we have terms like idiomatic.

I shot this photograph on January 15, 2008. What a very rare and pleasantly bizarre several days we experienced. The city was graced by a solid week of consecutive sunsets in the middle of winter. Thankfully my 7th story view allowed me to enjoy them all!

This photo in particular shows how Seattle is partially blocking my view of the center of our solar system.

The setting sun is my second favorite natural event next to the rising sun. What a fantastic spectacle - there's nothing else quite like it on earth ...

Writer's Block

2008-01-29T23:04:00.000-08:00

Apparently if this guy can't undo it, no one can: http://www.unblock.org/

Modern Acronyms

2008-01-28T15:08:00.000-08:00

Since I was in a wordy mood, I thought I'd share some of my favorite colloquial acronyms and their origins:

OMGYG = Oh my God, you guys!
Origin: Grace, San Francisco

TFS = Totally for sure! (also a way to further punctuate OMGYG)
Origin: Grace, San Francisco

BFF = Best friend forever
Origin: unknown

WTF = What the fuck
Origin: unknown, but I learned this one while working onsite at Microsoft

POS = Piece of shit
Origin: As much as I'd like to take credit for this one as I've organically used it to describe to clients product that is utterly worthless. I'm sure someone else has been saying it long before I have.

BFD = Big fucking deal
Origin: unknown

YMBS = You must be stopped!!!
Origin: Sarah, San Luis Obispo, CA (late 1990's)

TOOCRB (pronounced "T double-OCRB") = Totally out of control real bad.
Origin: Danielle, San Luis Obispo, CA (like back in the mid '90s)

CBATBB, G = (literal translation) Champagne brunch at the Black Bart, George (alternate meaning) Would you like to have breakfast?
Origin: J's uncle in Calaveras County, CA (like WAY before the mid '90s)

SBD = Silent, but deadly (a term generally applied when someone breaks wind without a sound)
Origin: Oh, who the hell knows, but I first heard the expression as a child in the early '80s.

TGIF = Thank God it's Friday (meaningless to someone like myself who often works weekends)
Origin: unknown, but Grace and I like to say it to one another just to be obnoxious because it's so fucking cheesy to say and actually mean it!

OMG - I almost forgot one of my most commonly used acronyms. TG my other BFF reminded me - TFS!

TTFN = Ta ta for now
Origin: unknown (though I recall this one as a quote from the movie Witchboard back in the '80s)

If you have a modern acronym you'd like to share, please by all means comment!

word du jour: kerfuffle

2008-01-28T14:49:00.000-08:00

kerfuffle
Main Entry: ker·fuf·fle Pronunciation: \kər-ˈfə-fəl\
Function: noun
Etymology: alteration of carfuffle, from Scots car- (probably from Scottish Gaelic cearr wrong, awkward) + fuffle to become disheveled
Date: 1946 chiefly British : disturbance fuss

Here, I'll use it in a true sentence. "Today, I had a bit of a kerfuffle on the phone with my client's tenant."

This word has found its way into one of my fun loving circles of friends. We'll call them the gossip hounds. They love the dish, the dirt, the now, the 411. They start salivating and licking their chops at the first sign of juice on anyone within arm's reach of the group.

Anyway, this term is most often used by some of my friends to describe a personal conflict. Though it's most often said in jest and with little if any malice.

Ring of Fire

2008-01-27T20:20:00.000-08:00

Arrived back home from the Eastside just a bit ago. Had some business out in snowy Snoqualmie, then reconnected with an old grade school friend at her condo in Bellevue. I can neither confirm nor deny the use of a smokable herb and some rounds of wii. Hey, if weed is OK for America's next president, then it damn well better be OK for me. You know, lead by example ...

Anyway, upon arriving home, I gave a shout out to Grace in San Francisco. Sounded like she was cleaning house from top to bottom. She brought up the subject of her most recent ex. I told her, from my perspective, it sounded like she was possibly missing him. Grace didn't seem to think so, at least that's what she was telling herself.

She further explained that no break up has ever felt like this for her. Well, no two break ups are alike, that's for damn sure. Every relationship is so incredibly unique. I assured her it was perfectly normal to miss Moron, that's what I've decided to call him. I mean, honestly, this loser gave up the most incredible woman anyone could ever have the privilege to call friend, let alone lover and soul mate.

Grace and I have both fallen into the burning ring of fire at some point over the past year or two. Of course like any good protagonists, we're so much richer for the experience. Through it all I think we've both discovered how much easier it is not to love than to love. A wise man once told me that, interestingly enough, the story of the little mermaid is the perfect tale of what love is like. The real story involves much pain. After the mermaid transforms into a human woman, each step she takes is like walking on razor blades. Her tongue is removed, rendering her unable to speak. After all her mortal sacrifice, the handsome prince ran off and married a land princess ...

WTF! That story sucks. The truth in the story is that there is pain associated with love, especially when lovers part ways.

While Grace was convinced for a while she had made safe passage from the initial pain, I think she's experiencing a throb. It's like stubbing one's toe. At first, a breakup really jolts a person. Then perhaps for a spell one doesn't feel anything. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, this profound ache sets in, then fades ... then comes back, perhaps this time less severe, then fades ... and so on, like a throbbing wound.

Longing, pining (pining is fucking lame!), sadness, remorse, regret - all these feelings surface during the throbbing. It's all part of coming out the other side of the "ring of fire."

I'll tell ya something, it's enough to make one not want to fall back into that burning ring. As humans who need love to justify existence, we cannot help ourselves ...

Confession ...

2008-01-27T11:11:00.000-08:00

OK, I live in a VERY densely populated neighborhood, probably the city's most dense hood, and still have yet to look into monthly paid parking. I know, my bad.

Well, it was a hoppin' Friday night, and I was circling for quite a while looking for a place to park my car for the night when suddenly ahead of me I see an open spot. Apparently, however, a man standing in front of it was proverbially claiming "dibs." I attempted to pull in when the person he was reserving the space for pulled up on my ass so I couldn't back in. Pissed off, I let it go, circled the block a couple more times and found an alternate place to park.

I admit it, uh, I did something to their car ... I'm sorry, but there's no saving parking spaces. It's first come, first serve. You're either there ready to park or you're not. So fuck you.

Sorry, just had to get that off my chest. I'm sure karmicly they had it coming anyway ...

Gettin' fixed up

2008-01-26T13:18:00.000-08:00

So Max emailed me yesterday concerning a single, recently-out gentleman who owns a high end men's clothing store at the top of Queen Anne. In fact Max has mentioned him to me on several occasions, and I can't quite tell whether he is just trying to gauge my interest or ... ???

Here was his email message to me:

"My friend who owns _____, _____, will be at __'s (hoedown) party tonight. He'll be wearing a zipper front brown leather shirt. He has longish hair and is about 6-feet tall and tan......oh, and handsome....like you. See if you can find him. He's a great guy and a good friend.

Have fun!"

My best friend in San Francisco, we'll call her Grace (since more often than not she is my saving grace), seems to think Max is trying to play puppet master. In fact, this is the image she sent me relative to the email thread we had on this subject:

I really don't take Max for that kind of person, one who would get off on manipulating people for his own personal entertainment, but I really don't know him all that well yet either. Then again, I do seem to have a recent track record of attracting such people into my life. We'll just have to see ...

I did let Max know I introduced myself to his friend at the hoedown last night. He was nice enough but not terribly talkative. I didn't mention he made kind of a poor first impression. Some things are best left unsaid ...

Gettin' ready for a showdown @ the hoedown ...

2008-01-26T12:47:00.000-08:00

No western outfit would be complete without the essentials, some of these -->

So after a nice lunch with Ben, I needed to get myself together for the night's main event, the hoedown in Bothell, which is truly the frontier.

Got me some ox blood colored shit kickers from Old Duffers Stuff at the Pike Place Market. Then onto Metro Tailoring to pick up the ol' dungarees that I was having altered. Last, but certainly not least, a stop by Byrnie Utz Hats to pick up mine.

I was just grabbing my dungarees when he called, a new interest of sorts. Oddly enough he has the same first name as the one who stopped my heart in its tracks at the hoedown. So if it goes anywhere, I'll have to formulate a nickname, or best yet just to not let it go anywhere but funville.

Closure

2008-01-26T12:20:00.001-08:00

In complete juxtaposition to the event later this same day, I obliged a request for some peace and closure the afternoon before the hoedown to a man, we'll call him Ben, I had been seeing for a couple months at the end of last summer.

For the past several months, he's sent me a few random email forwards. I've considered them an attempt at communicating, but in none of his messages did he make a specific request or state any specific purpose ... until last week.

Since I've known Ben, I quickly discovered he seems to have a hard time simply asking for what he wants. Perhaps he's not entirely sure what that is. Either way, when anyone reaches out with intention and purpose, how could anyone deny that? Not to mention, life rewards action. We ended up meeting for lunch at Cactus in Madison Park to catch up.

The conversation was for the most part light, which was great and appreciated. Just after the bill was taken care of, Ben made an apology. He said he felt badly about how things were handled during and immediately following the break up.

Truth be told Ben and our former, short lived relationship helped me realize I couldn't be with someone who had so many expectations of me in such a short time frame. Nor could I be with a man who lacked compassion, patience and understanding during a time of profound loss in my life. Another story, for another time.

Since then, after a few other "dating" experiences, I've come to further realize I'm not capable of being anything more than someone another person can have fun with, at least for now. No heavy or heady conversation; only capable of hanging out and having light hearted fun. Hey, Peggy Sue got married ...

I'm just 1.5 years out of a 7 year relationship. Another serious relationship is asking too much of myself at present. I will say one thing about being with one person for a number of years, it certainly heightens one's awareness of what one wants and doesn't want out of a relationship and a partner. I can see it all from a bird's eye view now. Not that I won't ever get serious with anyone else again, it just has to be with the right guy who I have the right chemistry and dynamic with. It's kind of one of those I'll know it when I see it sort of things ...

Anyway, I told Ben he needn't be sorry, that it is all water under the bridge. It's a new year full of new beginnings. Moving forward means letting go of that which holds us back from realizing our full potential. I think he appreciated that, and I very much appreciated Ben's drive to bring peace to the conclusion of our relationship as it previously existed for a short time before transforming into something new, hopefully a friendship.

My intuition tells me to give this guy another five years to roll through life and he'll surely be husband material. Perhaps not my husband, but I have every confidence he'll bring much joy and happiness to someone he truly loves and someone who truly loves him.

Also had an opportunity to connect with an ol' buddy of mine who is the executive chef at Cactus. When the waiter first approached, I asked whether he was working and to please discourage him from jacking off in my burrito. The waiter asked whether we were friends, and I told him I'd admit to it. Then he asked for my name and told me he'd let the chef know I was in. A few minutes later, out he came with a bright smile on his face.

My friend actually went to high school with my first boyfriend back in San Luis Obispo, CA (this is actually the first website I wrote content for, and much of it still lives on!).

Anyway, as it turns out, he may be soon in need of my professional services. I love how things come together organically like that.

I had the pulled pork torta, which was one of the Friday specials. Oh, it was SO good! Very comforting, kind of like a Spanish-influenced sloppy joe on warm corn bread, mmm ... The waiter assured me my torta was spunk free, and the bus boy confirmed this as well. Apparently this request for the chef to not jack off on my food was entered onto the ticket. Hey, now that's service!

After lunch, Ben and I walked back to our cars together for a hug goodbye. It really was a nice meeting. I didn't feel any awkwardness or unneeded pressure. Just two people who enjoy one another getting together and then parting ways. If only every human interaction could be that simple. (Heavy sigh ...)

Say what you need to say ...

2008-01-26T00:30:00.000-08:00

Was only halfway expecting to see the one person who could send me from my usual, confident self into Jell-O with one fleeting glance tonight. Of course, there he was the moment I walked into the party. My heart slid from my chest past my stomach and out my ass ...

This is the second of two encounters within the past few months he has completely avoided me. I'm gathering this might be due to the fact I wasn't very warm and fuzzy during our last actual interaction. He can't even casually communicate with me, so how was he to know my beloved dog unexpectedly died just days prior to the event he approached me at. Not that he would have even cared how deeply this tragedy affected me, but it certainly would explain why I was in no mood to deal with his peculiar, somewhat dramatic and undoubtedly immature behavior.

In my entire life I can think of no one else I have loved more, greater or better than I loved this man. Not even the man I spent seven years building a life with. The good news is he's not the last man I'll ever love. Actually, at this point, I'm not even sure he is a man ...

Despite months and months having passed, he can't even say a simple hello. Oh, he can acknowledge me by attempting to latch onto my friends at a social function or trying to slip by me without being noticed and without the slightest hint of a social grace. Either way, he clearly doesn't have enough human decency to give us peace.

With him I was undoubtedly the bigger man, just like in my previous long term relationship. This time it's up to him to step up, especially since he conveyed to me, under no uncertain terms, I was to trust that he'll "be back in my life when he's ready." I can think of nothing more selfish and inconsiderate than the aforementioned request. Yet, I have ever since honored it and gone out of my way to respect his boundaries despite myself. Yet I still care. Yet I still love him, in some odd way ...

Sure, I've moved on in almost every aspect of my life. Yet he is the one man who lingers in my heart and mind like the wandering smoke from a burning cigarette. His was the connection I most treasured beyond that which has already vanished from my world. It's just as well as I believe he could have been my undoing.

Peace is the very least and the very most I can hope for with him. Please, bring us peace ...

Boot Scoot 'n' Boogie

2008-01-25T18:03:00.001-08:00

Fixin' to head out to a hoedown at Russell's Barn in Bothell. I'll have to post post-party.

Rise & Shine

2008-01-25T09:20:00.001-08:00

Few things in life I enjoy more than breakfast and Seattle Metropolitan. BUT, I'm a bit disappointed this "about town" magazing is letting all the cats out of the bag, giving away all my safely guarded morning spot secrets. It's mildly hateful. Many of these places already have long weekend waits. Guess I'll just have to stick to weekdays to enjoy my favorite a.m. haunts.

One thing is for sure, they'll never find my favorite South Seattle breakfast dive, Randy's. Oh, it is a touch of mid-century rubbish. Either a Denny's or Cindy's likely was the former tenant in this '62 World's Fair-looking remnant. The interior features dark faux-wood paneling (the kind you'd find inside a '70s RV) with orange and pink pleather upholstered booths. It would be virtually impossible to overlook the plethora of aviation paraphernalia hanging down from the vaulted ceiling by way of fishing line.

Randy's waitresses are marvelous. Adorable older women who look like Aunt Bea or grandma. They wear designer eye wear, crisp white shirts, black pants and black aprons with white pinstripes. These gals are a hoot, always ready to strike up conversation, make a quick quip or give you a hard time for not finishing your hash browns.

Of course you can really rate a breakfast spot by it's coffee. Randy's has a good, diner style cup o' joe, served in a giant ceramic mug that is so big they've filled up the exterior sides with advertising. Clever and cost effective, both the coffee mugs and the restaurant itself. Mmmm ...

Perhaps the End IS Near

2008-01-24T22:26:00.001-08:00

OK, every now and again I enjoy cruising the personals in the papers and online. I couldn't help but share this, uh, post from Craigslist. Honestly, what other fetish-laden gimmicks will people come up with next? That was a rhetorical question. Please, for the love of God, don't answer it! Honestly ...

Jack off on a robot

Reply to: pers-550841365@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-01-24, 10:11PM PST

I have a small toy robot that I would like someone to jack off on. Come over, door will be open, go into the living room, drop your pants and jack off on the robot (pictured). Zip up and leave.

I will be upstairs reading and will not see you. I'll leave some hard boiled eggs for you as payment for gas.

it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 550841365

The Dawn of Insanity

2008-01-24T07:12:00.000-08:00

Lord only knows I shouldn't have had two of those old fashions last night. Well, they were delicious and nevertheless ya only live once. However, the above view out my front windows is about close to how I'm seeing our modern world this morning. As festive as it appears, it's really cold out there and eerily quiet, which is deceiving.

Not more than a few nights ago, hanging out of her second story apartment window (pictured above as the lowest window in the photo, which has somewhat of an orange glow to it), this mad woman - I assign that a dual meaning because she was obviously pissed off about something as well as she was just straight up nuts - screamed out her window to virtually no avail about what she perceived to be the evils of this world: people, money, corporations, and the list goes on. Hey, maybe she's not all that crazy. Perhaps she has a point in waging a personal war against the have/have not world we've created.

Nevertheless this fucking psycho bitch woke me up out of a deep sleep around 2:00 a.m. the other night. I'd about had it between the derelicts in the four rehab buildings across the street and the hipster bar at the end of the block. So I called 911 in hopes they would send someone out to shut this woman the fuck up!

Interestingly enough a friend of mine had an encounter with her the very next day. My friend happens to be a Seattle police officer, and he was called to the scene, responding to yet another complaint about this mad woman. Apparently she had gone off her psyciatric medication, as well as the proverbial deep end. This time she barricaded the front door of her unit, plugged up the sink and/or the bathtub and flooded the unit. The building owner was having the entire building rewired that day, so that whole microcosm of a world came to a grinding hault while Seattle police broke open the door to crazyville.

To give screamer bitch the benefit of the doubt, I suppose if most people really took a good hard look at the inner workings of our modern world, most would probably flip their lids too. Ignorance is bliss. That's not to say things can't change, but human nature isn't really something I'm all that proud of . Time and time again we ignore history, wage war against ourselves and destroy what we've worked so hard to achieve. We humans are in a constant tug-o-war with ourselves over ideology and resources. It's really quite shameful - there's plenty to go around. Further, if we weren't so damn wasteful, there would be even more of everything to go around for everyone. When will we as a species learn from our mistakes? Will we ever?

OK, that's enough of a rant for before 7:30 a.m. on a weekday morning. More later ...

But we've only just begun

2008-01-23T21:22:00.000-08:00

Ah, Quinn's ... very nice. Quite enjoyed my evening with my engaging companion. We'll call him Max to play it safe. He's a devastatingly handsome man, the kind of man anyone would want to be with or at least be seen with. Thick, full-bodied salt and pepper hair, masculine facial features (e.g., chiseled jawline, rugged good looks), hazel eyes, great skin, dimples and a smile that could light up any typical Northwest overcast day ...

Truth be told, if he weren't partnered, I probably wouldn't be the least bit interested. OK, well, that's not entirely true, in fact nowhere near the truth. I admire Max as a friend, gentleman and scholar. He is a gentle man through and through. From his posture to how he conducts himself in an uncomfortable situation, generally he smiles and curtails the conversation or subtly points it in a new direction.

We talked about, among all things, the ancient prophecies predicting the near end of life on earth as we know it today. Yeah, I know, what uplifting conversation ... and to think I broached the subject. Actually, I consider myself a die hard optimist, but I'm also a realist.

Recently, I've taken in some cable programming on the subject. Apparently the ancient Mayans, the ancient Chinese and legendary visionary Nostradamus all predicted an end of human civilization. In fact, they all predicted civilization would end on the exact same day less than five years from now ...

Following some of this prophetic programming, I also happened to catch a related special about Life After People (check out the related Ghost Town blog - it's quite spooky!). Not sure whether it's because my dining companion also happens to be a successful architect, or because I just happened to stumble upon these topics so recently they were top of mind, but I interjected them into the conversation.

It's amazing the illusions we as humans attempt to convince ourselves of. Foremost, that we are in control of anything, much less earth's environment. Perhaps our modern monuments give us some security in thinking that our time here is purposeful and will long since be remembered, even after we're gone. Maybe it will be, maybe not ... The real question is, why does any of it even matter?

We spoke of the three generations of family members slain by one of their own on Christmas Eve about 45 minutes East of Seattle this past holiday season because of a dispute over money. For the love of God - why?! Is money really that dire? Does anything justify killing one's own family, or is that just some mere societal thought that conforms to modern civilization? Where is the true divide between right and wrong? What is the value of human life?

More questions than answers here tonight. In the grand scheme of things, what does truly matter? As with most things, I truly believe that is in the eye of the beholder.

Well, I'm looking to have a bit more fun this evening, or might actually get a good night sleep before my 9:30 a.m. meeting tomorrow. Either way, more to come ...

The Beginning

2008-01-23T18:16:00.000-08:00

To what end must I go to create my blog's beginning? Here I sit upon my chocolate leather chaise, gazing out my front room windows, pondering our existence. At the conclusion of a typical Wednesday evening, commencing somewhat of an online journal of sorts ...

Truth be told, I'm actually just having a little fun finishing the start of my blog whilst I wait for a handsome, older gentleman to collect me from my apartment in his shining silver Mercedes, by which he'll whisk me away to a recently opened Capitol Hill establishment called Quinn's. My industry sources tell me it has the same owners as Belltown's acclaimed Zoe.

Yes, the photo is a view from my 7th floor bachelor pad atop the Granada, an old world 1920's brick - What's this?! An email from my best friend in San Francisco. Apparently her most recent ex boyfriend just sent her an email about the package of his goods she just shipped him back.

Great! Now my gentleman friend just phoned, saying he's going to be about 15 minutes early. I'm SO not ready to roll outta here! More later ...