Bored out of my skull sitting here a voice-data conference. I need to get a phone headset so I’m not always straining my neck and shoulder with holding hte handpiece up to my ear. My vision is blurry right now because I’m so out of it. I’m listening to a demo of a conferencing program and there really isn’t any reason why I should be sitting here. It sucks, man. And I really really really have to take a piss and we’ve got twenty minutes left in the conference. Argh!
In an effort to remove myself from Microsoft dependence I downloaded Sun’s free office suite StarOffice last night. It is compatible with Word, Excel, Access and Powerpoint and also offers an email client, a media player and a browser. Now if I can only get a non-Windows machine. I feel the beginnings of a throat infection – that swelling in the back of my throat and the need to drink huge amounts of water. Today is a lazy day. I’m going to the gym tomorrow. The boxing really put me down – I need some toughening up though, right? Erik said he could tell I’ve lost weight in my love handles and stomach and remarked at my ‘tits’ at lunch yesterday. Unfortunately since I’ve seen Fight Club twice in the past two weeks all I can think of is Meatloaf’s bitch tits. It is funny that I process the boxing instruction in terms of music and rhythm from my piano background and the body positioning in terms of my dance training.
I am so sore. Jesus. My back hurts like no weights workout could do. Had dinner with Tommaso last night after acupuncture. Had a nice anxiety attack in the middle of our walk to dinner. I tried to stay low-key and I think I made it through alright but Erik noticed as he walked by with his dog. Why are you sweating so much? Luckily, Tommaso was talking to some friends and didn’t hear. I quietly related to Erik I’m having an anxiety attack. And it was soon over in about five minutes. I started Zoloft again two days ago. I’m gonna do a half-dose like I was doing last year at this time. Enough to help me ease back from the abyss but not enough that I’m not pissed off enough to write. I just feel un-stable lately. Too many projects. As always. As usual. I need a vacation. Though I know that I really get no break until mid-August after Sinister opens. I feel a-wash.
I keep thinking of my propensity to always try and do too much. I feel like I need to just drop everything for a month and then re-group and re-prioritize all of my little personal projects I’ve got going. Really want to get the theatre site back up and running – I’ve got some cool ideas for it.
My back will not move today. I feel like I have a board inserted back there.
Had lunch with Erik at Big Bowl. We always go there and always say we’re going to go somewhere different but then we don’t. But it’s so good. Erik commented on my pale complexion as of late. Of course he’s Mexican-Guatemalan so he’s brown year roun’. Maybe I’ll hit the fake bake tonight.
Had another boxing lesson today. My first of ten. Jerome, the instructor, kicked my ass. I immediately came out of the gym and bought some ibuprofen. I will not be able to get out of bed tomorrow. I was feeling sort of tired and I’m like ‘oh we must be near the end’ and I look over at the clock and it’s only a half-hour into the fifty-minute session. Ouch.
Just when I think that maybe corporate interests aren’t really defecating on the rights of this planet’s citizens I find something like this: Coca-Karma – how Coca-Cola ripped off one guy for a billion dollar idea. We’re moving more and more everyday to corporation-nations and brands instead of ethnicities.
The Palm V is singing Patsy Cline – ‘I’m back in baby’s arms..’
This rocks: Pud over at FuckedCompany has a little flip book of idealab!‘s incredibly shrinking client list.
Just got in from the day’s revels. Met the crew at Matt and Brian’s – half of us went to Ann Sather and then watched the parade. I then visited Eric’s place and a guy was there that has had a crush on me for the longest time. He finally confessed it in a drunken conversation a few months ago – he wanted to ‘break me’. The highlight of my day was him rubbing up against me chanting ‘I want the cookies! I want the cookies!’ So much for innuendo. Stayed at Eric’s and drank till about 8pm and then went to Circuit for an hour or so and then Roscoe’s. Ended up booty dancing with Eric’s friend Ventura and his cousin Humberto – they’re awfully close to be cousins. They made an Andy-sandwich at one point. As they say in Ferris Bueller – ‘oh so they’re that kind of family.’
Had a good time last night. Was supposed to meet Xxxx at Sidetrack but when I saw the line that was a block long I knew he didn’t have the patience to wait there. So I called him and he was at home with some friends so I walked to his apartment past Circuit which had a similar line at midnight. Got to Xxxx’s and he warned me that they were snorting coke and smoking pot. Big schmeal. I turned down the coke – my allergies are bad enough already with out shoving shit up there. Didn’t hit the pot either. Maybe it’s because I haven’t indulged in drugs that I find them so boring. What always makes me laugh is how casual drug use in real life is compared to the media’s portrayal of peer pressure and background soundtrack a la Traffic. We’re bored. We shop. We roll. We toke. We drink. We fuck. Stayed there for about an hour and a half. Then left to wait in line at Circuit. Matt was coming home from bowling so he waited in line with me and then went on home. Circuit was packed but not impossible. I just love the mix they have there. So tribal. Immediately went to the washroom line to take care of business and then got out on the dance floor. Danced for about an hour and a half and then walked home with S____ and then got a taxi from there. Ran into Rafael before I left and asked him if he’d seen CuntBastard and he said no and I intimated there was a very very long story behind all of that. Got home as the sun came up at 5 and then went to bed. Going to Matt’s to watch the parade go by.
Matt’s dad’s celebrate 25 years of couplehood in a few weeks.
from The Portable Coach: (I’m on a self-help binge lately)
For those who are too caught up in their lifestyles, other people take on the quality of being extras, bit players in the movie that is their life. It’s important to amake a distinction – who is an asset and who is just an adjunct – becuase ssallow reltionhips tend to be high maintennance either in money, time or both. I’m just suggesting that you identify who in your life adds joy and energy versus who merely supports, entertains or assists you.
Chew on that.
Heather and Brooks called to say that Tomb Raider is a shit-hole of a movie.
The new Mitsubishi Eclipse commercial really got me. It’s the one with two couples and a group of three women in their cars bouncing to music. I think the simplicity is what gets me. That and we all know the excitement of being in the car with music turned up loud and your buddy is paying for the gas or somebody’s getting a Chug and you sit in the car and just enjoy the booming bass surrounding you and you know the night is going to be fun. I like the three black chicks in the car – they’re just sitting in a gas station jamming. It’s elegant and a little glam without being ‘too perfect.’ And the song rocks. It oozes cool.
Then there’s the new Levi’s super-low on the hips jeans commercial which has animated navels singing ‘I’m coming out.’ Does anyone else find the obvious vaginal metaphors here totally repellent? I remember reading about a porno called Chatterbox – the inverse of Deep Throat where instead of a woman having a clitoris in her vocal tract she has a voice box in her snatch.
Very very very hard day. I got up and went to the gym. I was late to work because I had to go to the salon I went to the day before and I left with their men’s room key. Something is disconnected in me right now. Common sense seems to be a thing I have dis-possessed. Got to work at 9:30 and immediately found out my day would be dominated with four hours of meetings and demos. I didn’t get time to go get my Palm V. I had to cancel lunch with Erik. And I missed another acupuncture appointment. The night before I spent with a designer and a client I’m the go-between for regarding a book cover – we were at a Kinko’s trying to do the last few changes to the design. We crashed two computers trying to get the work done. It was awful. And they had Photoshop 5.5 which really sucked ass in my opinion. I’m totally biased towards Macromedia because I never learned the Adobe stuff but watching the designer use Photoshop – things seemed really counterintuitive. Maybe Illustrator is better. It was a very very frustrating evening.
Went with Brigitte and Kevin to see With or Without Wings. Laughed even more than when I saw it two weeks ago – Mierka’s timing is impeccable and she had to stop the show a couple of times because the over-sold house was rolling in the aisles. I giggled through the whole show and when I wasn’t laughing I was crying. Had a really good cry. Mierka is such an inspiration – I hope I’m that cool in five years. When Mierka says: ‘And I knew the only place where I could get the arts training I needed was in… Dayton, Ohio’ the audience fell to pieces – so many of us are fellow alumni of Wright State and she imitates at least two characters that many of us knew personally. I just don’t feel like I can go out tonight. The show is too important. I haven’t really stopped moving all week anyway so I’m happy to just have a Friday night alone – even if it is Pride Weekend. But you know what? It’s the same people in the same clubs dancing to the same music… Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Market Days, IML… it’s always the same thing… which if that’s what you’re looking for is fine. It seems all my gay friends have circles of friends that are all gay. I don’t know if that’s a function of them coming out and then moving to Chicago or coming out and losing their current friends that couldn’t deal with it. I find I resist that Big Gay Life at times. But I resist the Big Straight Life as well. Walking around Lincoln Park and everyone is packed into the bars drinking and carousing and pretending to have a grand time – you can see the same thing in Boystown. Amusing ourselves to death… again I come off as Anti-Fun. It’s my Catholic upbringing checking in again. Pleasure = Bad. Me and my conspicuous depth.
Says the guy that got his chest waxed yesterday. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. It was really funny. I was sorta nervous going into a skin care salon – not the most comfortable place for guys, right? One girl was in because she had some kind of home-waxing debacle that effected peals of laughter when she took the receptionist in the back room to show off her mangled tuft. I told them about Brigitte ripping out her eyelashes when she tried at home eyebrow waxing. The I managed to warm the place up when one of the receptionists was talking about partying in Lake Geneva and going to a strip club and I’m like, ‘Are you talking about the Sugar Shack?’ And suddenly in the den of feminine beauty we’re talking tittybars and lapdances. That was when I had the lapdance that cried. Talk about guilt. Her manager had just bitched her out and she’s wiping her eyes of tears as she’s grinding her thong in my face and I am having a hard time trying to objectify and empathize at the same time. Good racket to get a good tip though. But the smooth chest feels great – who needs asian boys? I’m kidding! I’m kidding!I got it waxed for my photo shoot on Monday. Trying to tame any skin irritations currently. I’ll get bored with it and let it grow out again, I’m sure – I just think it makes my physique look better.
I sorta like the new N Synce single, Dirty Pop. It’s got a good percussion arrangement. The video is pretty slick – these boys are aging better than the Backstreets. I think because Sync realizes the transience of their popularity and keeps things fun and stays away from the ballads. BSB seems intent on boring the shit out people with sappy drippy ballads.
Oh and I can’t go to Popstars auditions – they’re checking IDs so they’ll probably immediately weed me out for being gasp! 26.
Gonna go pick up my Palm V at the taxi office tomorrow morning. Damn. I was all set to buy a Visor Edge!
I left my umbrella on the train this morning.
I just left my Palm V in a taxi.
Lifted and ran this morning. SO hungry right now but trying to do the two hour wait after cardio before eating. Sometimes I wonder if my fitness obsession is even worth it. I figure that I’ve come this far and look like I do now so why not go the extra mile and really get ripped? Testing for the web app is going well – kina – better than I thought or would have suspected that’s for sure. Trying to decide if I want to wake up early Saturday and go audition for Popstars. Their age cut-off is 25 though. Hmm…
Testing for our online web app has gone well – started 12 hours late but it finally got underway yesterday afternoon and responses have been good.
Got my hair cut today. Probably the most traditionally masculine place I frequent would be Frank’s Barber Shop on Van Buren. Though my barber’s name is Lisa. She’s a stitch and her ogling always puts me in a good mood. Our time together always concludes with her holding the mirror behind me so I can check out the back of my neck in the front mirror and I look off to the side and say things like ‘Hey…’ or ‘How ya doin’?’ as if I’m cruising to the side at a bar stool. We have way too much fun cutting my hair. Got it a little longer than usual since I have headshots on Monday morning.
Not too ‘gayed’ up about pride weekend this weekend. I think since the past two weekends were so busy I just want a quiet one. It is funny that last year at this time I was a party machine. CuntBastard and I would have dinner and then toss down three martinis each and head out to the clubs till about three and then have breakfast and even get Krispy Kremes. That was a strange period of partying – sort of making up for all the partying I didn’t do in college. I don’t regret the fun times we had. But the impending crash of a destructive ‘friend’ship was forseeable from even this far back. I try to Let Go and Let God but I wish CuntBastard much ill will. I hope he gets battery acid enemas and prison rape for a thrice daily dessert. I know I should let God take care of things on God’s Time. But God didn’t owe the IRS $12,000 now did s/he? It is funny how during the actual investigation and tracking down process of the CuntBastard saga I didn’t have an anxiety attack. I was calm and cool and detached. I think that reality had become so unreal that I just had no point of reference to freak out over anything. And then today I have a brief anxious episode when two people are at my cubicle at the same time. I’m considering if I should go back on anti-depressants or what. It is crippling to constantly live in fear that your face is going to turn bright red and sweat is going to pour from your forehead and everyone is staring at you. And you just have to wait it out – no amount of yoga or breathing or affirmation or psychobabble bullshit seems able to extricate you from this tendency to over-heat. Yavgeny, my acupuncturist (my newest alternative healing venture to attack this malady) says that it is my internal body heat energy from the Water elemental energy in my Kidneys and having too much defensive chi. It gets to the point where you aren’t having anxiety attacks over a situation – but the anticipation of having an anxiety attack over the situation. A meta-anxiety attack. I knew I’d get meta one way or another. It is embarrassing and awful. That I can dance shirtless in front of a crowd all come hither but if someone closes a door at a meeting I start to freak out. It is the perfect impediment to my progress – totally irrational so I can’t combat it with my usual mental arsenal. Totally unpredictable. What am I so scared of? Why do I allow myself to live in this much fear? When did someone tell me I wasn’t good enough so deeply that I believed them? It is so ridiculous but it holds me back. I can’t walk into a photo shoot or an audition in this state – I have before and it is always a disaster. I don’t mind being a nervous wreck – I just hate showing it. And then to hear people describe me as totally confident and unshakable and unstoppable floors me. I feel so bored lately. Nothing seems to be grabbing my attention lately. I’ve lost touch with my dreams. Everything seems so hopeless. This whole 20th birthday of AIDS thing has affected me more than I’d ever think. 40 million people in sub-Saharan Africa. That is just so fucking unreal. And the politics and manipulations with the issue in the United States on both sides of the coin. AIDS is the perfect disease, striking us in one of our weakest parts of our selves – our libido. In a world that glorifies constant sex with multiple partners it was perfectly calibrated to destroy and raze generations of men, women and children. It reminds that every sexual act or union is more than exchange of hearts or lusts – it is a physical exchange that can explode beyond the two people and affect an entire society. We are responsible. We are all responsible with every sex act we do. Every decision can affect how this monster behaves and spreads. I think I’m over-reacting to one side from a very Catholic morality but I know that if I logged on to some chat rooms there’d be a world of ‘consequence’-less sex available to my door within a half-hour. I see AIDS as coming up through the classes in this country as violence has – there will be some Columbine-like event where all of sudden we wake up and straight rich white kids are dying off in record numbers and it will be too late. So I sit here feeling creatively barren and emotionally empty at this crazy world.