MonthMay 2005

would you like a wank?

Ya know, I understand that everyone likes a good wank. Some people do it at home. Some people do it in public places. Some people do it under restaurant tables. And all i can say is wank away.
BUT. If you are going to wank at work — do NOT wank in the urinal and not flush. Truthfully, I don’t know if someone is droppin’ babies in there or not. All I know is that everytime I go to pee, I have to stare into this globlar *something* (that looks like wankage) that glues itself to the porcelain. My high-pressured, well-aimed pee will not dislodge it from the surface.
So, please — do not wank in the urinal, Mr. Person-Who-Shares-My-Urinal. If you are not wanking, then go to a doctor and get your shit checked, because you got something funky coming from somewhere.

time for a change?

Well, the inevitable finally happened. My groaning primary hard drive ate it. I’ve known it was coming for a while, and I even bought a replacement drive for when it did — but the chore of installing it, throwing on the OS, getting the updates, installing the drivers for all my external stuff, installing all the apps … it’s something I was dreading. But I started my new class yesterday, and I figured it was better that I do it while things are still new in class than HAVE to do it come week 3 right before a paper is due.
Well. I ripped that baby out of the packaging to install and noticed this freaky deaky blue cable with it. Not an IDE cable, but some borg-like cable sure to connect my brain functions to my spinal cord. I had purchased a Serial ATA hard drive, unaware of what it was. THANKFULLY my motherbord has a SATA controller (two actually).
So I spent the entire evening last nite fuckin’ with that and installing XP.
And then — I noticed my slave drive wasn’t being recognized. It was previously daisy-chained by an IDE cable … but now … it’s all alone with no one to love it. So now I have to figure out how to get it to be recognized with a SATA drive. *sigh* All my backup applications, files, emails are on that drive. It totally sux hobo assholes in a major way.
So … i have the delima now. Do I stick to my PC as my primary computing device … or do I switch to my mac for the geeky/sleeky interface it provides. Decisions, decisions.
Maybe once I get Tiger … I’ll play with my mini tonite and see if it will do my crucial things. If it will, I’m all about it.

every day a little death

Matt and I went to David’s birthday on Sunday in Galveston. This is why I am a walking crisp. We had a great time, of course.
Mind you, we didn’t think to bring swim suits to the beach … (I don’t even own a swim suit) … and while everyone got in the water, Matt and I just sorta stared and watched the quasi-naked bodies bobbing in the waves. So I was like “fuck it.” And took my pants off and went swimming in my (very cute) square cut boxer briefs. Matt followed suit — and we were off into the waves.
While we were out dodging the seaweed and jumping fish, we started talking and realized we had an acquaintance in common. Joel was a boy I sorta kind’a dated about 4 years ago. He had a lot of issues at the time and lived about an hour away from me — (what it is with me and boys who live far away, i’ll never know). Anyway, we didn’t end on such a good note because of his issues — and when he got his 3rd DWI, I called it a nite.
Matt told me he went to Joel’s funeral last year. I was like “woah, what?” Turns out that Joel had colon cancer. He was a year younger than me. Freaked me the fuck out. Very sad.
Hmm. Well, on that somber note … bah. scary shit. Always important to get your shit checked.

jaunt down memory lane

I spent the evening last nite scanning my “baby pictures” and putting them in a gallery. My intial reason for doing this was because a lot of the pictures are turning a really dark orange or purple. So I whipped out my trusty scanner, threw everything in to Photoshop CS2, and went town with color correction and photo correction (sad how many scratches are on those things).
My ex-step-grandmother (who is now dead) started keeping a “baby book” for me when I was kid that all my school pictures and such in it. Apparently at some point, I added my baby pictures to it that they never had. So — I spent a good amount of time last nite looking at myself — thinking back to how things were — thinking about what an absolute complete bitch my step-mother was and how much I regret having had her in my life. Made me think alot about my grandmother (who died when i was 21) and my aunt Brenda (who died two years ago). I don’t think I have any pictures of my grandmother … and I wish I did. I’ll have to ask my dad. A few pictures of Brenda — and my grandfather (who will be 80 this June).
But it amazes me how many destict environmental memories I have. Like, I don’t remember so much events as I do *things* about where I grew up. Like I remember the carpet at the church where I grew up (it was blue and green — how could i not remember that…) But I remember this one pillow on my grandmother’s couch that was white and brown. I remember the green velvet wallpaper at their house. The wooden slate columns in her kitchen. The microwave with the clock that had a weird constant hum-buzz. And of course, I remember her piano. My grandmother was quite the pianist, and I think she was always thrilled that I took up piano. (I was the first grandkid, and always a favorite.) I spent a lot of time in my life on her piano — but when they lived in Deer Park and when they moved to Idaho.
I also remembered a lot of … details … about where I lived in Friendswood with that bitch. I remember the china hutch with drawers that were always crammed full of crap. In fact, it seems like every drawer in that house was stuffed with some type of crap — cards, old pencils, weird pieces of different weird things that no longer work (perhaps because the piece was in the drawer). I remember the tacky ass wallpaper in the dining room that had copper kettles on it. I remember the bitch ironing clothes in her bra and slip in the kitchen every morning while we kids ate breakfast at the bar. I remember the yellow tupperware containers in the kitchen. I remember the monsterous heap of clothes that lived in the garage in front the washing machine (I still have no idea why that was like that. The pile was seriously at least 4 feet high, 4 feet deep, and at least 6 feet wide. I don’t miss my ex-step-mother. At all. It’s sad to think that she was in my life for 9 years and that her behavior had such an impact on my life. Goes to show how impressionable children.
Anyway — I put the first pictures up that I scanned last nite in my gallery. There’s no direct link from my site to it (except for this one here). I didn’t design the site to have a gallery in it, so I’ll have to figure something out.
So — I think I was a terribly evil looking baby. Look at how *black* my eyes are as a tiny kid. And then look at how my hair seemed to ignite as I hit about 2 years old. Thank god it got somewhat darker as I got older. I still hate having it — but perhaps the proof of color as a child will provide some sort of justification for my issues…

the little things … part 2

It’s been a busy past couple of days, and I suppose I’ve had some things on my mind — tho nothing that needs to be said here. However — it’s caused me to do a lot of self-reflection (as I’m so fond of doing) — and I figured it was time for me to stop and do one of those lovely self-evaluations (not testicular ones, you perv.)
But self-evaluation aside — I think there are some things I’ve realized recently that I’d like to write down simply for posterity’s sake.
1.) Wearing your heart on your sleeve isn’t always a bad things — but it isn’t always a good thing either. There are times when it’s good to be honest, and there are times when it’s good to keep quiet — and loving someone is knowing the difference between the two.
2.) Just because you see yourself one way does not mean that anyone else sees you in the same light. Some see you for the better, some see you for the worse. Examining your personal flaw with a magnifying glass is only going to make you self-conscious about things that others probably don’t care about. And if they do, well … find a way to sue them.
3.) Dreams can come true. And when they do, it’s ususally when you’ve pretty much outgown the dream or ceased to care. Funny how that happens.
4.) Growing up kind’a sux. Responsibility is for adults … and being a perpetual kid can make life very difficult. Managing money, holding a job, establishing a reputation, finding someone to love and be with, paying bills, dealing with scary issues like disease and death … this is what happens when you’re an adult. And yet, there is a sense of security and power in having wisdom and knowledge that I didn’t have 5 years ago that makes being an adult ok. Not to mention, knowing you have support of other “adults” in the same boat as you who love and care about you.
5.) Hearts are moldable. They can be shaped into anything you let it. But, as with glass sculptures, certain shapes can make a heart fragile and can easily break. But, a slow process … a lot of fire, heat, and observation can make that mold a stable and solid prize. However, no matter how solid and stable it may be — it’s still glass and can still be broken by poor judgement.
6.) Loving your friends is the only way to live. Care for them and they will care for you. Watch their cat when their on vacation. Make them dinner when they’re sick. Tell them you love them and how much they mean to you in a stupid card with a picture of a squirrel on it. Everything counts. Everything matters. Don’t think your feelings are unimportant or are disregarded.
7.) Look at your life — at the decisions you make. You’ll probably realize right away that you’re one dumb ass mother fucker. Look at your life, where you are. Realize that those dumb ass decisions made you who you are today. Look at your life — where you’re heading. Understand that more dumb mistakes are on the way, but that’s what life’s about. Learn from your mistakes. Don’t wash a red sock with your whites. Don’t leave a bottle of wine in the sun. Don’t ignore your gut feeling.
8.) Tell your Matt that you love him. And tell him until he drowns in it. But don’t just tell him — show him. Make it so he can say “hey, Michael loves me, you bitch.” Value him like nothing else, treasure your time together. We don’t have a lot of time — there’s always something else to be done. So make time for each other.
9.) Do not eat meat that has been sitting under a heating lamp for an given amount of time. Not only is it dry, but it probably has a host of bacteria thriving in its tissues. And trust me. You’ll only need repeat that mistake once.
10.) Treat yourself with respect. Pick yourself up when your down. Your mistakes aren’t always bad as they seem, unless it was you that mowed down that family of 5 the other day. Then yes, that was turrible. Learn to love yourself because you can do something better than someone else. Chances are, you can probably do several things better than someone else. And that someone else can do several things better than you. But — you’re still better than them.

those little things

You’d think I’d blog more often. I’m such a slacker. Not much has been going on lately that has been worthwhile to blog about, I suppose. I went to TWO graduations this weekend within 24 hours. I now know what Hell is like. Particularly because one of those graduations was at Baylor … We had to get up at 4:30am to get there in time (and as most people know, I’m hardly a morning person). So to go there and be verbally molested by Jesus-talk was not ranking high on my list of enjoyable events. See, I went to a religious college. I know what it’s like to feign a religious aire just to get through school. It sucks.
But this speaker (the president of Baylor) was very preachy about how Christianity is being hushed from public voice. And how everyone needs to voice their freedom of expression and how Jesus-this, Jesus-that. And he finished speaking and everyone in the crowd (who was obviously Baptist) stands up clapping.
I was raised part-Baptist by my very Baptist step-mother. And it was always a very pushy religion. I didn’t agree with a lot of their teachings, much less their ways of doing things. But ya know — that’s why I’m not Baptist. 🙂
So — we’re driving home and my grandmother is in the back sitting next to me and and starts asking me all these questions about the Mormon church (as I was also raised -mostly- Mormon). So I’m starting to explain things, and she starts telling me about how she believes in reincarnation and stuff (which is no problem to me) — but, mixed in with all the Jesus-talk from the graduation, I was sorta irritated.
Religion in general is so overdone to me. It’s people progressing their own agendas in the guise of worship and spiritual direction. And so many people are so trusting … and they just get pulled in without thinking about things for themselves. But it’s “tradition” and whatnot, and just go with the flow. Church is a social matter, not a truly religious endeavor. It’s just a social excuse.
So all this dogmatic philandering is sickening, and I get really tired of having to deal with peoples’ attitudes about religion. People — this country was founded on the notion of God. It’s in the Pledge of Allegiance. It’s in the Consitution, it’s on our fucking money. True, a lot of God has been removed from that notion of America — but so has a lot of dignity and virtue. God is an ideal, an invisible power that keeps things in check, whether you choose to believe it or not. So you people who are anti-god need to shut the hell up. If we have to respect your rights, you should respect the rights of others as well.
And ya know – another thing I really don’t understand? Prayer. What exactly is the point except for personal affirmation. I mean, if God wants you to have something, or for something happen, it’s going to happen, regardless of your asking. I mean — think of all the hundeds of thousands of Catholics who were praying for the health of the Pope when he was dead dying. Did that save him? Nope. And please, people (you Mormons in particular) don’t tell me you “pray for me.” Just because I’m gay does not mean I garner special prayers to overcome my “sinful ways”. If i felt my ways were sinful, don’t you think I’d stop? Hi, thanks for playing. Pray for the poor and destitute, or people who have had to go through natural disaster after natural disaster, or who have lost loved ones to terrorism. Not silly faggots like myself.
So — ranting aside — the world is becoming a dificult place to live due to religious intolerance. So much hatred and ill-will. And it’s starting to piss me the fuck off. So please — get with it, and worship freely without imposing your “belief structure” on me.

we had a ball

A group of friends/coworkers and I attended a very fancy shmancy gala on Saturday benefitting the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. Continental is a sponser, so we got free tickets. It was open bar, live music, fully catered dinner, silent and live auctions, beachwear fashion show, and dancing. The dress was “tropical black tie” — and there was no explanation as to what that meant, so we just winged it and went dressed nicely, but kind’a tropical-esque-ish-sorta-thing.
Rachel went with me, adorned in purple satin, and I was wearing this white linen sorta open-necked shirt. David, Matthew, and Laura also accompanied us, and we met Steve, and some other people I don’t know up there. We were all there at the same table. I donated $100 (since our $100 tickets were free to us since Continental is a sponsor).
The night was a blast — and it’s always great to spend time with David and Matthew. Here’s a few pics from the evening. (I’m thinking of starting a gallery of pics, tho I’ve been rather anti-gallery for a while. We’ll see what happens.)

The group of us (from left) me, Rachel, Laura, David.

The boys. I think this is the first picture of me and David evah.

The lovely Rachel and me.

David’s Matthew and I in a rare photo moment.

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