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Tuesday, 20 October 2009 (dad's gonna kill me) 2:50pm I just almost had what Barefoot would call "a Larry David moment" with a crossing guard. She gave me this look like, what, you expect me to stop traffic for you? as if. I let it slide. 5:14pm At the Sea Biscuit, nursing a mocha and actually getting some writing done. 8:18pm I was hoping to get this book written without the benefit of caffeine—and at home, for that matter—but I'm beginning to think that's not gonna happen, since I've gotten more words on paper these past few hours than I have these past few weeks. Whatever works, I suppose. | ||
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Monday, 19 October 2009 (placing trust) 4:01pm I met with Employment Specialist guy at the LGBT Center today. He liked the looks of my application stuff and believes I'm qualified for the job (which I am!), so he's going to email his contact at the company. We'll see what happens next—getting called in for an interview, ideally. 6:13pm It occurs to me that I need to take Marta to Nippon Sushi in Pacifica. Like Spices! II and Old Jerusalem, it shouldn't have taken us this long. (I suppose the fact that I'm unemployed and don't eat out often has something to do with it, but still.) | ||
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Sunday, 18 October 2009 (mingus eyes) 2:12pm Sometimes, you gotta roll the hard six. 11:41pm This past day and a half has been rougher than I'd expected. After a Lit Crawl reading which was either fantastic or a total bomb (it was impossible to read the silence of the audience, they might have been fascinated or horrified-in-a-bad-way), Marta and I engaged in a fair amount of streetcorner processing. We kept it together enough to have dinner at Old Jerusalem (which, like Spices! II, we should have gone to before now), swing by The Dark Room to socialize and piddle, and finally hit the Elbo Room for the Litquake afterparty to drink and dance. My side began to hurt after a while. I'm getting more out of shape than I realized. We spent much of today in bed together, either napping or processing. (I also devoted entirely too much brain-time to thinking about the drama with a Bad Movie Night regular.) Marta and I said our goodbyes that evening at The Dark Room, and she left well before the show began. The show itself was great, with a nice packed house as I'd been hoping for. Heaven knows I need the little money I get from it. | ||
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Saturday, 17 October 2009 (hide it away) 12:01pm Though I'd been seriously considering giving it a miss because my thin skin hadn't yet healed, I went to Tales From The Dark Room last night. After helping Jim deal with some preshow technical issues, I spent most of the evening sitting in the lobby cuddling with Maggie, the resident bulldog. Sadie hosted, and she joined me and Rhiannon and Jim and Erin in the green room after the show for a k'vetch session. From there, Rhiannon and I went to Shotwell's to see Rimma, who's briefly back in San Francisco for reasons only she knows. She was already quite drunk when we arrived, and surrounded by people we either didn't know or whom I might have known fleetingly many years ago but didn't know now, so aside from getting a brief hug from Ilene when we entered, Rhiannon and I kept to ourselves for the most hour or two. As the crowd thinned out, I shifted over to Ilene, with whom I had a much longer hug. After it, she said: you're drunk! Which was not strictly true, though I had finished whatever kind of beer it was Rhiannon had bought for me, so I was probably at little tipsy. Ilene—herself far from sober—happily insisted that it was weird because I never drink, which is also not strictly true, and unless I'm misremembering, her and I would usually have a glass of wine while watching Galactica (a tradition I continue with the Goldies, though now we drink wine and watch Breaking Bad), not to mention the boozing we did together at last year's Dore Alley, but that's okay. It was great to get to hang out with her again. I spent the rest of the evening with Ilene and her friends. Rimma was still there but was preoccupied with puking her guts out on the sidewalk. (I didn't exactly feel sorry for her, mainly because there's no way it wasn't part of her plans for the evening. Me, I made sure to keep drinking water, especially when a shaggy fellow whom claimed to be Rimma's friend bought us all another round. I hadn't planned on drinking more, but what the hell. I only made it through half of whatever the tall beer placed in front of me was—I simply asked to have the same thing as Ilene ordered, which is much easier than actually developing my own tastes—but as I say, I remained hydrated, and was sober enough to frive by the time our small group were ready to move on at half past two. We'd long since been kicked outside, of course, and though I was given the option of remaining inside with Rhiannon, the night was now about wherever things were going to go with Ilene. Which turned out to be Bob's Donut & Pastry Shop on Polk. I didn't immediately recognize the name of the place when it was first mentioned to me, but it turned out to be a place where Sadie and I ended up after two separate all-nighters, back when we used to do such things. (I could be wrong, but I think I feel a tinge of sadness about that.) I had a chocolate donut, because at that point a few more empty calories weren't going to make a damn bit of difference either way. Besides, someone else bought the donut for me, just like someone else had bought the beer(s). It ain't indulgence if someone else is paying, right? I was home and in bed by four. It's reassuring to know that I can still pull the occasional allnighter. 3:03pm I'm putting together a montage of trailers of bad vampire movies for Twilight tomorrow at Bad Moive Night. There's no shortage of material. And it helps me not stress too much about reading in the Lit Crawl tonight, which is a pretty big deal. sometime after midnight what if rough patches are all we have left? | ||
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Friday, 16 October 2009 (last shift) 9:11am As I was hoping it would, the fact that we're doing Twilight this Sunday is getting Bad Movie Night a bit more press than usual. Both the SF Weekly (the picture on the left, to be precise) and PlasticMilk SF like us, anyway. sometime after midnight When you start speaking in tongues, it's time to go home. | ||
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Thursday, 15 October 2009 (twisting the knife again) 9:36am I've never liked seeing movies there—they keep the bulb on the projector turned down to low in the mistaken belief that it extends bulb life, when all it does is make the picture dim—but I'm glad the UA Stonestown Twin has found a new life as an art theater. 10:15am Fake earthquke! 11:14am Ugh. I'm not sure who Jeff Dunham is, but based on the adsI have to sit through before watching The Daily Show online, I don't like him. 8:01pm Heading to Pete and Sarah's to watch Breaking Bad. I may go dancing at Divas afterward if I can get there before the cover charge kicks in at eleven. I've gotten dressed up, just in case. 11:41pm Much like on Friday night, I didn't make it to Divas because I was hanging out with friends until after eleven. When first Sarah saw me, she said: you look so pretty! Which was good enough for me. A little ego-stroking can go a long way. | ||
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Wednesday, 14 October 2009 (withered and died) 8:35am Ye frakking gods, the pants don't fit anymore. When I add a waist cincher into the mix they almost fit, but the buttons don't reach. It's been six months, and I've already gotten so godsdamned fat I've grown out of my pants. And it's not like I sit around guzzling mayonnaise all day long, either. Marta has marveled that when we buy soy cream, it'll sit untouched in my freezer between her visits. doesn't it call out to you? It doesn't. Other things do, and I admit that I eat late at night which is a no-no, but I really believe it has everything to do with not being able to work with Raphaela anymore, let alone do the regular cardio once or twice a day. My dumb stupid body's metabolism. All I have to do is fall off the treadmill (metaporically and otherwise), and my frakking stomach starts expanding like mad. I've never expected life to be fair, but, seriously? This is not fair. Speaking of such things (segue!), off to the big queer job fair. (Hopefully I'll have better luck than her.) The job I want is a block away from a 24-Hour Fitness, one I was a regular at a decade ago, so it's a job I must get. 12:43pm Mmm. Free lunch. I'm volunteering the computer lab again this time, and I kinda wish I wasn't, because these pants with the cincher are very uncomfortable. I've brought along a change of clothes for afterwards. 1:24pm Of course, now is when I see the typo in my cover letter, not last night when I could have fixed it. C'est la vie 'n shit. 1:49pm Mission accomplished. 4:01pm Outta there, and I've changed into considerably more comfortable clothes. Next is the followup, which one of the Employment Specialist types has offered to help me with. He knows people who knows people, which is the only way this stuff works. 6:05pm Tonight, I'm going to the see the double feature of Toy Story and Toy Story 2 in 3-D at the Castro. Marta, KrOB, Rhiannon and her boyfriend are along for the ride as well. | ||
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Tuesday, 13 October 2009 (it is the night of the demon) 7:11am I woke up crying, hard. I've already forgotten what the dream was about, which is surely for the best. 9:25am Ooh! I have an idea nobody else has ever had in the history of ever: rain as a metaphor for depression. I'm gonna make a million bucks! 10:43am It's my Victory Garden's first rainstorm. Hang on tight, guys. 5:53pm The rain stopped. Time to drive! Erin is fixing my pinstripe pants, the top buttons of which fell off a while back. I need the pants for the job fair tomorrow, since they make me all hireable and stuff. 9:05pm Someone playing a cat dropped out of a play. I volunteered, having recent experience doing cat onstage. I was brushed off, not even seriously considered. The person who was selected is considerably more fuckable than me. Welcome to the theater world. Ezri will return eventually, whether she's wanted or not. Not that she's ever been wanted. 10:52pm I neglected to put "John Prine" by Low on my iPhone. I'm regretting that at this moment. | ||
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Monday, 12 October 2009 (time will show the wiser) 10:04am Okay. These next two days are going to be all about getting ready for the big job fair on Wednesday (for which I am not expecting the same level of press coverage as last time). I have a specific job that I'm applying for, so I'm going in full-throttle. It's gonna happen this time. 5:09pm Oh boy! Rain! Eventually. 7:12pm I know I'm not the first person to say this in the last 24 hours, but: poor Sal. Poor, poor Sal. | ||
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Sunday, 11 October 2009 (meet on the ledge) 11:12pm The noise show last night was fun, even if I was a little freaked out by having to walk through a gnarly part of West Oakland to get there. (I'm stubbornly middle-class in some ways, and while I'm no economist, I know what liquor stores with thugs hanging out in front, check-cashing joints, ninety-nine cent stores and a notable lack of grocery stores means.) Marta and I got dinner from Yamo first and at in the lobby of The Dark Room while that evening's performance of Tales was getting started. Though I was looking forward to the noise show, I found I kinda didn't want to leave The Dark Room, either. Sometimes I just don't want to leave home. We had lunch at Spices! II this afternoon—surprisingly the first time we've been there, even though we've been dating for several months—and Bad Movie Night this evening was great. There was a bit of drama beforehand (not involving Marta), and I essentially have to fire someone. It's the tradeoff of the creative control which I cling to so strongly. Time to bust out the I-statements. | ||
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