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Saturday, 30 April 2011 (selective memory) 3:42pm Despite all Yelp claims to the contrary, the fake fur selection at Mendel's is not all that impressive, and we'll be returning to the Fabric Outlet in the Mission. It's also proving more difficult than expected to find a decent, not-Ben & Jerry's milkshake in the Haight. Still, it's a good thing that we're out in the world, especially on what's a particular beautiful day. It's supposed to be another, even prettier day tomorrow, but I'll most likely spend much of it indoors at Greenhouse, since there's a lot of writing to be done. 9:21pm It's amazing how much a reference to menstrual blood can squick out a roomful of gay men. Though I suppose straight men aren't all that much more comfortable with it. sometime after midnight Left a party compartively earlyish, one that was going well and at which I was feeling more welcome than I'd originally hoped, to go home to get to sleep so I can get up tomorrow morning and be at Greenhouse when they open at nine to write. I question my priorities sometimes. | ||
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Friday, 29 April 2011 (tiger in my tank ) 4:27am Godsdamnit, this is not how things were supposed to be going right now, or what bed I should be waking up in. 11:06am Back to Bootcamp this morning, now at My Desk at Greenhouse, and then meeting Marta in Japantown before we head into the Haight for fur-shopping and Manhattan. Our fourth night together in row, ignoring for the moment that we haven't slept in the same bed since Tuesday night. But it's still unusual, though I like it. Going to make my way through the entire Eels discography today, from 1996's Beautiful Freak to last year's Tomorrow Morning. I haven't really been following their new albums for the past five years, and now feels like the perfect time to get caught up. 3:07pm i miss you too, i have no intention of ditching you. 6:18pm Comfort dinner of of Hiyashi Deluxe and sushi and Osakaya, a cruise through Black Peace Now (where I still entertain fantasies of someday fitting into something/anything there, because, you know, I'm brainwashed by the patriarchal beauty standard or whatever) and a visit to the best women's restroom in San Francisco, and now into the Haight. And Mendel's has long since closed, so we'll most likely make another trip tomorrow. 10:01pm As much of a high-def elitist as I've become, and one who is largely disenchanted with the filmgoing experience, I still feel incredibly fortunate to have the opportunity to see movies like Manhattan projected on film. The print was older and a little faded, but that only made it more beautiful. It was Marta's first time seeing the movie at all, and I envy her that. | ||
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Thursday, 28 April 2011 (packing blankets) 8:21am At My Desk at Greenhouse. I worked out with Yvette this morning, who informed me that Bootcamp was particularly brutal yesterday morning. She disagrees on this point, but I think me being there would have been a very bad thing indeed. 5:03pm Done here, and mostly done with my work-work for this week/month, hooray. Heading Missionward to have dinner with Marta. The idea of her and Ilene having dinner together tonight was floated, but then it sunk. sometime after midnight I've been spending Thursday nights with Ilene for the past couple months. And now I don't know when I will be again, because things are derailing even more than expected. | ||
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Wednesday, 27 April 2011 (grace kelly blues) 2:51pm No Bootcamp this morning. Slept through it because I didn't set my alarm correctly, which was probably subconsciously intentional. I was waiting yesterday afternoon in West Portal as usual to meet Marta, when she texted and asked if I could meet her in the Mission instead since she had to go to her house first, suggesting that maybe we could make a needed trip to Fabric Outlet while I was out there. Fair enough. I drove into the MIssion, parked, and walked to Marta's place. She met me halfway, when she asked me if I was still aware of the beating of my heart, and I replied truthfully: no. it's my tear ducts I'm more aware of right now. Which was true. And while it was only a quarter past six, I knew there was no chance in hell that we'd make it to the fabric store, which closed at seven. Something was going to break. I spent the next couple hours crying on Marta's couch, like an inverse of the time she'd spent on my couch on Sunday. It had been building up for a while now, especially as I began to consider the worst-case scenarios like never getting to be affectionate with Ilene (or Davina or anyone who isn't Marta) again, let alone the adventures we were going to go on together, and that the entire commodity known as affection which feels like it's been so goddamned scarce throughout my life was being snatched out of my hands for the nth time, because as always sherilyn doesn't get to have things like that worldwithoutendamen and just an overwhelming sense of loss of all the pot, and through all this Marta was holding me and comforting me as best as she could, and with no judgment at all about the fact that there is no lack of affection in my life thanks to her, ours is the most consistently affectionate relationship I've ever been in, and if I was a better person then she would be all I need and she very much wishes that I was all she needed (that we were on the couch in the apartment that she shares with the boyfriend whose name is right below hers on their checks is neither here nor there, because she wants to go monogamous with me and me alone) but if I were a better person then I most certainly wouldn't be me, now would I? Since I've never been a better or an especially good person when you come right down to it—like Spalding said so simply, i'm not a nice guy, terry—and I know what denying my nature gets me, that it can be even more destructive than when I follow the impulses of my heart, which has certainly scorched more than its share of earth. We finally left around eight, got Indian food to go and returned to the Black Light District. I set my alarm, but sorta not right, and when I woke up for real it was nearly half past six in the morning, so Bootcamp was officially a bust, as it may have been anyway because my breathing was still all wrong (difficult to take in oxygen, occasional involuntary long exhales, the usual physiological reactions to real or perceived emotional trauma) and I wasn't awake too long before I started sobbing again, picking right up from where I'd left off last night. I managed to get myself together in time to take Marta to work, and now I'm at My Desk at Greenhouse, trying my best to slam through my current work queue and beef up this month's paycheck. In addition to paying the rent, t's nice to have work-work to distract myself with. Plus there will most likely be retail therapy happening this afternoon. 5:03pm Out in the world with Marta. I just got another skirt Dennis Uniform Manufacturing, green plaid rather than red and longer and more demure than the previous one in that this actally reaches down to just below my knees, which is actually my preferred length. It probably goes all the way down the ankles of the schoolgirls it's actually meant for. And it's also bit loose on me, so Marta's going to take it in for me a little. They didn't have the next smallest size in stock, and if last time was any indication, it probably would be too small on me. Stiill, the one good thing about the childhood obesity epidemic is the availability of school uniform skirts in my size at all. Thank you for that, McDonald's! (The fact that I've been getting in shape helps, it's true, but no matter how much fat I burn away, there's nothing that can be done about the width of my skeleton.) 7:41pm At San Jalisco now, because comfort food is messy food is comfort food. The skirt (plus another one I ordered) was the extent of my purchasing today, though we continued on with our shopping, checking out Stompers and Leather, Etc (the selection of shiny pants at which is practically nonexistent these days) and swinging by Wicked Grounds and then on to the Nordstrom's downtown, where Marta bought herself a really gorgeous pair of Frye 'Melissa' Tall Lace-Up Boots, and finally circling back into the Mission to make that delayed Fabric Outlet trip, where we found a really gorgeous purple fur, though we didn't get any yet because we want to hold off and check Mendel's in the Haight as well, and we're going to be there on Friday to see Manhattan at the Red Vic, and good gods, if there's any time that I need to see Manhattan in a theater, it's right now. Or in two days, when I expect the need will be just as strong. | ||
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Tuesday, 26 April 2011 (heaven's blade) 9:43am Worked out with Yvette this morning. Rita has not been seen for the last week or two. We all come and go, I guess. At My Desk at Greenhouse (née Green House), waiting for more feedback from the marketing guy. Sadly, he's having to go through another marketing guy, and that's kind of taking forever. I had a goal for how much work I wanted to get done by the end of the week—and hence the end of the month—and I don't think I'm going to reach it at this point. But not for lack of trying on my part. 11:57am A lot of radios are silent. 1:04pm Ugh. My heart is thumping, and I don't know why. I polished off my morning coffee by half past ten and haven't had any more. 1:33pm Actually, I do know why it's thumping. My adrenaline is pumping for a reason. 5:13pm Or, then again, I just might reach that goal. I'm going to give it my best shot, and I'm particularly appreicating have work to distract myself with right now. And Lisa's settled into wherever it is exactly that she moved to (somewhere in Washington, I think) and is more or less ready to come on board, so here's to hoping that pans out. It'll be nice to have a fellow hack, however distant. | ||
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Monday, 25 April 2011 (nature is a language) 8:11am Slightly better turnout at Bad Movie Night for Slaughter's Big Rip-Off, even with Easter and Game of Thrones, but not by much. I'm beginning to think that Blaxploitation was perhaps too esoteric a theme. Or not. Who the hell knows? Didn't make it to Damiel's class this morning, largely because I didn't get to bed until well past midnight, and sleep didn't come quickly. Seeing what was and what wasn't on my Google Calendar as well as who can see it and who can't on Saturday evening (and, of course, I totally misjudged what's okay and what isn't and got into trouble for it) led Marta and I into a long processing session, much of which took place over a couple hours on a residential street in the Richmond around the corner from the first stop of the pub crawl. We were doing okay when we joined the group at the second bar, but then we weren't because I keep finding lines to cross, and by the time we reached the third stop on the crawl, after we sat inside for a few minutes and Marta was clearly beginning to spiral downward emotionally, I took her outside and she fainted. As I lifted her up from the sidewalk, I broke the frame of her glasses against my shoulder, because even the most selfless actions have damaging consequences. To say nothing of the selfish actions, my forte. We walked back to Phoebe and drove home in silence. We spent much of Sunday continuing the discussion from the night before, and things are a little different now. I most likely won't be spending the night with Ilene again for a while, and I have no idea what happens after "a while." It's not really up to me at this point. I've made my desires clear, but I also know enough to know that I have to step back. sometime after midnight In retrospect, the fact that I seemed to emerge undamaged should have been a clue that something big was broken. The universe likes balance. | ||
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Sunday, 24 April 2011 (cathedral in flames) 3:11pm I had it, I lost it, I may not get it back, things I was hoping would happen may not now, it's going to hurt a little, and I have to accept that. | ||
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Saturday, 23 April 2011 (who'll tell) 1:47pm At Green House, at My Desk. Finished up the first batch of the new work-work project. It's not my best work, even compared to the hacky boilerplate I've been churning out, but it's the best I can do given the circumstances. And I only have a week left to beef up this month's paycheck. Plus it shows initiative or whatever. Heading out in a bit to pick up Marta, and later this evening we're meeting up with Ilene and Davina for Mouse's birthday pub crawl. It'll be an adventure, I'm sure. sometime after midnight Definitely wasn't not an adventure, that much's for sure. | ||
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Friday, 22 April 2011 (there is always a soundtrack) 2:13pm Home now. Ilene and I stretched and jogged this morning, and afterward I stayed for a couple hours longer than usual so we could co-work. Even managed to get some work-work done. The main problem is that the new project is a bit amorphous at best, which the marketing guy is fully aware of. So I'm just going to blunder through it and see what happens. When I used that phrase, "blunder through it," the marketing guy responded by quoting the "nature of the theatre business" dialogue from Shakespeare in Love, which I'm taking to be a good sign. | ||
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Thursday, 21 April 2011 (whitetail) 8:31am No Rita or Yvonne at the gym this morning, so I spun again. It's not ideal, but it beats working out by myself. I'm not going to the cafe this morning, since I have an appointment at 12:45 at Lyon-Martin to re-do my Healthy San Francisco paperwork, and there just doesn't seem to be any point in getting settled in at Green House first. 1:33pm Hoory for proof of poverty: my quarterly premium has dipped down to $60. That, I can handle. Back home to get some work done, and then I'm picking up Ilene from her office this evening. We're just going straight to her place, which greatly reduces the chances of me repeatedly walking us in the wrong direction. 5:21pm Just napped. It's been a long time since that's happened. Well, beyond dozing a bit at Marta's place yesterday. sometime after midnight That was a bit more like it. Everything is, in fact, as it should be. | ||
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