I put myself on a 36 hour “no thinking about or doing anything related to work” restriction this weekend, so instead of playing the role of work-a-holic, I’m spending my time browsing through Facebook and MySpace.
I do this every once in a while, and there have been a lot of people from my childhood who have recently joined at those sites (welcome to Technology everyone). Most of my childhood friends from Joplin have trouble placing me because I moved away in 1989 and didn’t graduate with them.
I’ve discovered that most of my childhood friends and I still have a lot in common… taste in music, movies and books… political beliefs… and an overwhelming number of them have turned out to be gay.
I find this fascinating to me, in that I haven’t spoken to these old friends in 20 years or more. And when we were growing up, we certainly didn’t discuss being gay, or even know that we were gay… we were kids! Yet, we managed to somehow find and recognize this “quality” in each other before we were even able to name it and recognize it in ourselves.
Of course looking at this school photo of me from 6th grade, it seems hard for me to understand how I, or they, didn’t know all along.
I now present to you: Jester in 1986.
Note the gigantor glasses and super stylish rayon shirt.
I realize it has been a while since I checked in. I just find that lately I don’t have any thing to say that isn’t a whine about my stomach, how insane the political frenzy is making me, or how depressing it is to be a responsible adult who is also a gay man.
This week marked the tenth anniversary of Matthew Shepard’s murder.
It was also National Coming Out Day.
And it was announced that the Proposition 8 religious freak goons are outspending us 2 to 1 on ads. And the ads are full of disgusting lies about the “certainty that gay marriage will be taught to first graders.”
The phrase “activist judges” makes me want to vomit. Following the letter of the law and enforcing it is not activism. Insisting that civil unions are the same as marriage and forcing your religious beliefs and purportedly superior moral code on the rest of society is activism.
I fear we will lose this battle. It does not mean losing the war, but it does mean more casualties, more money, and less time for me and my friends to get back to decorating our lush apartments, styling celebrity hair, eating newborn babies, and lusting after all those ugly bald paunchy men who draw their wives closer when they walk anywhere near a Pier One.
See, there I go on a tangent. I should not have access to the internet while high on vicodin.
I’m still writhing around on the couch in terrible pain, popping vicodin and hoping October flies by faster than September did, since my appointment with the gastroenterologist isn’t until the 22nd.
I’m officially on “bed rest” though that really means working from my couch. I get more done at home. My boss isn’t exactly convinced, but he will be soon enough.
I’m fat. Evidence?
- My doctor told me in her thick Vietnamese accent, “You too havvy. Too too havvy.”
- The ER doctor said in his thick Chinese accent, “You aware you need lose a lot of weight?” My response, “Huh. I have never heard that before in my life.”
- I broke the toilet seat this morning. It pinched me hard enough to leave a welt.
- I lost my iPhone in my lap. I discovered it when I stood up and landed on my foot.
I’m totally loving “Worst Week.” I caught it On Demand yesterday and hurt myself laughing. Luckily I happen to have vicodin on hand.
My external hard drive that has all my music on it started acting up this weekend. I spent 36 hours transferring all my files to my network drive. Now iTunes has broken links to roughly half the music in my library. I have to recreate all my playlists. I’m irritated about this.
I’m also irritated that for some reason it duplicated a lot of my files. I have to go through and clean it all up… just for reference, I have 205 GB of music. That translates to 1,509 days worth of music. This means I could listen to my collection non stop for over 4 years and not hear the same song twice.
I know that Russia has had internet access for many years. Why then have so many comments flooded my blog the last week in Russian?
If I really have that many Russian visitors, can I encourage you all to send me hot Russian gay porn? Thanks so much.