Ready, Reset, Go! (2006-2008)

I. Love. This.



Lip Dub - Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger
from amandalynferri

Better than some professional vids I've seen, frankly. I know these guys all work for a netware type company, but watching it made me suddenly nostalgic for college.
It just made me smile.

We should totally do something like this!

UPDATE: OK, clearly this has made the rounds long enough that it's being imitated and spoofed. THIS one is equally as fun, though for different reasons [but as Rey points out in comments, it's not as well done, esp the lip-dubbing] (I love the age range, too. Wait for the very last moment.)


RE: Lip Dub - Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger from Jerry Ascione and Vimeo.

I soooo need a new camera.

Actually, my camera is basically fine, but I need to get one of those really thin ones you can just slip in your pocket.

Having a bulky one means it's sometimes a pain to bring with you. And then you miss all the great pictures.

I have nothing at all from any of the gatherings/clubs I went too.

This means, of course, I will have to steal from the tons of other picture takers out there (for my personal memories only, credited if used publicly).

For one thing, I got no pictures at all (being sans camera) at the Blogger gathering on Friday night at the Gallery lounge.

Now, at least as I understand it, with the New York blogger gatherings (see JMG and Zeitzeuge), this meet-and-greet is typically done by choosing a bar at which to meet and everyone who wants to go can arrive there to meet up. The only downside to this on a weekend like Pride, is that every bar in the city is going to be jam packed.

So it was so fantastic that Dan was able to score a bar space at which which could all meet with reasonable space, at no cost to any of us. And so, I think everyone (what, were there like 50 or so of us? I can't remember) had a great time meeting bloggers and friends, old and new.

And is was an extremely friendly event, welcoming to all.

OK, sometimes it might have been a wee bit too friendly.

Not that that was a bad thing. :D

It is true, of course, that with large numbers of people, I only got to meet a small handful of folks I hadn't met before, and all too briefly. Especially as the booze began to make my brain fuzzy. (Did I get drunk there? I really can't remember.)

I do know I finally got to meet the fabulous drinker Kelly Stern, and the friendly and thankfully camera-ready Jestertunes (both for the first time), the Untravelled Travel guy (we had met once before in NYC with Rey, though I was not as drunk as this time), Phillip (only from the back and side, I think, which only made me very much want to saunter right up and say hi... but I think I was becoming incoherent at that point, so conversation was pointless), and of course, Jeff and Matt and the other Calgariginians that stormed the town. I know there were a few others, but that's when my brain switched off, I think.

Regarding the lack of camera... well, at the time, I was drinking and, therefore, was not thinking about memories. Now I wish I had taken pics as there were so many bloggers, many of whom I'd never met before.

I will learn... In fact, if anyone knows of a relatively cheap camera that's really thin (even if it's just as a supplemental camera), please tell me about it if you have a chance.

Actually, the night before (Thursday) would have also been a very good time for a camera. It was Powerhouse, after all... one of my favorite SF bars. Partly for nostalgic memories... Partly for other memories. I'm thinking of a couple of guys, including Brettcajun, who tolerated me molesting his nips, and Moby, a San Francisco local whom I'd never actually met before, who tolerated a little more than that (nothing sexual... I think?).

Anyways... Saturday and Sunday a lot of visiting folk hung out in smaller groups. I spent a lot of extra time with Dan and Donnan, Kel, Chad, Joseph and Kalvin and their two very handsome friends Kevin and Edward from Denver , Nick and Jake (SF-ers) and Darin and Jimmy (Phoenicians), and Adam and Brad (Dallasensians).

Alcohol was present on occasion.

I'm still drying out.

And now for the very very few pictures off of my own camera.

Seriously... I need more memories than this...

Sorry for no posting or responses. I am pretty frakken exhausted. I head back home to the east coast in a few hours, so I will check in tomorrow when my head's screwed on straight and the alcohol slowly purges from my system.

Short version, I was in SF this weekend during Pride. I had a very very great time meeting old friends met through blogging, new friends I had only known as bloggers, and new friends in general. Every time this happens I am amazed how many new great folks are in this ever-expanding circle of friends we all have. Some of you I only met one night, others I got to hang with a few times during the weekend - considering the compressed time and the number of people in town, that's probably not a surprise.

As usual, I have few pictures of my own (though I have more than usual for me). However, there were many, many flashes going off, so I doubt there's massive evidence already on the net!

I'll say more later, but for now, I'm drinking my coffee and will be packing soon.

Lift the ban.



(from Brave New films)

Because the only thing Americans hate more than a terrorist attack is a gay man stopping a terrorist attack.


(Heh... MAN-i-festo.)
...

It's all very typical debate from that side these days: "We'd rather see many Americans die rather than allow someone to exist in a way we find icky for no good reason".

Meanwhile, the vast majority of active military don't give a crap of the guy next to him is gay.

Lift the ban already. Because it's unbelievably stupid.

I'm tied up with stuff lately, so sparse postings for a bit.

Well, in a first for me, someone I actually already know in Boston (actually, they're a couple) has found this blog.

I got an email on Friday from one of my old roomies, inviting me - out of the blue - to go see the True Colors tour that was in Boston this past Saturday. He had an extra ticket in the front row and was offering to me - free, yet!

Hard to say no to that very generous offer!

Thing is, though... the email came on my "atari_age" address, not my personal email.

Hmmm...

Yes, so he and his partner (both were my housemates over more than - sigh - a decade ago, when I first moved to Boston) found their way down the winding web, and somehow stumbled here, and there it is!

Now, excuse me as I purge this blog of disparaging comments...

OK, no, there would only have been good things to say! I've always been real good about that. Actually, there is only one person in my life that I let myself criticize here. Actually, two: my ex (cause he deserves it) and myself (cause... well, you know me).

Anyways, the concert was a blast. I mean, if you like any of the groups playing, you're gonna love the show. Cyndi Lauper (who organized the whole thing) was a treat to see live for once! And of course Margaret Cho was fantastic, as always.

My favorite sets:

Rufus Wainwright kinda hit me deep. I've always liked his sound, but it's never been the right time to sit down and really listen and enjoy. Well, here I did... and the ones that got me were the slow, sonorous tunes like "Gay Messiah" and "I'm not Ready to Love". I just let myself get swept up in the musical soundscape and his voice. I will now be diving back into my collection and boning up on my Rufus.

The Dresden Dolls. Thankfully, Rey introduced me to this group's music a while ago, so I wasn't as clueless as I normally am. But seeing them live... Wow. A drummer and a keyboardest/singer. That's it. How the hell that two piece group - often singing in a Kurt Weill/Cabaret style fills the whole place with a powerful presence, I don't know, but they do.




Amanda Palmer is a forece of nature! And the drummer, Brian Viglione, is (1) powerfull and (2) haaaaawwwwt! Two drumsticks came flying out of his hands right at us. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get my hands on his stick, but two other lucky guys did!




Most awkward moment that wasn't really that bad but a bit ... er...

While coming out of the bathroom, my name was called. Standing there were three friends of the ex.

They pinged me, so I figure they weren't avoiding me.

Haven't seen you in a while, etc. etc.

"Wow we all lost track of you..."

I checked my cell phone to see if my number had changed. No, I was pretty much cut off from contact the minute I was dumped.

Maybe I should have handed out my blog address.

Also, one of them was a person who (I had always been given to understand) had serious issues with me when John and I were a couple (or whatever we apparently were). I never fully knew why, though I suspected it had to do with some things I've discussed previously, which had there source here, I think.

So that was doubly special.


Most awkward "Am I really gay?" moment:

Erasure.

The entire 80's Euro invasion didn't penetrate me back in high school or college. Not at all. They just weren't my muse. I'd say my muse didn't come around until much later with Nine Inch Nails' Pretty Hate Machine. In fact, in my first gay bar experiences at 21, I remember asking DJs to play NIN, only to be told if they did, every gay man would walk out of the bar in protest.

So you can see why Erasure didn't quite tug at my soul. They're a very good band. They just didn't mean much to me. Oh well, to each his own, right?

What I didn't realize is that by saying those previous words, I've probably offended 99.999% of the gay world.

Anwyay, at the concert, I figured I'd bop my head to Erasure and enjoy it for nostalgia's sake. It's fun music, no problem.

Suddenly, though, looking around, I could see the ENTIRE AUDIENCE was on their feet, writhing in orgiastic delight to the music. I mean like they all took a hit of ecstasy timed for full effect during this set. Young and old alike. Like it was the return of the Beatles (for me, anyway). Or Nine Inch Nails (me again).

Um...

Really?

For the whole set, I felt rather, well, guilty that I was in the front row. I had zero urge to get up on my feet for this set.

I mean, those who know me know I have almost a fear of dancing. But some music digs right into my soul and at least gets me standing and bopping. The entire 80s Euro-invasion never ever, not once, did that for me. (OK, some New Order did. And, of course, I loved the Eurythmics.) But everyone else was up and dancing.

Maybe I should just do that, too?

But I decided, for some bizzare too-sugary-margarita-and-beer-fueled reason, to be "principled". The music doesn't make me want to dance, so I'm sure as hell not gonna do it now.

So, I didn't. I sat and bopped in my seat and (I think) looked as if I was enjoying Erasure, albeit in a non-writhing mode of expression that, I now realized, did not fit in at all in the gay world.

For a moment, I felt very, very out of place. I didn't know I was supposed to love Erasure to fit in with the gays.

Weird.

But the moment, like gas, passed.

There are so many things about me that make me sometimes feel out of place in gaydom. Not caring one way or the other about Erasure. Similarly indifferent to Madonna (though I DO think a lot of her music is extremely good). More so (indifferent) to almost all top-40's stars of today and yesterday. Ditto American Idol Project Runway etc etc etc etc etc etc etc. Not knowing what a Blooburry scarf is. Oh yeah, and loving Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends (I want a Bloo doll).

But whatever. Like Steve says,

atari, who like all good fags loves dick (mmmmmm dick) is really only gay because he likes dick...

And there it is, the only thing that matters :D


Regardless, I had a great time. It was a beautiful day and evening. It was also fun hanging out for a while with my old housemates and their friends! It's been quite a while.

Men can be Hunts

I'm on MH.
A hot guy contacts me out of the blue, opens his pics up.
I do the same.
He's interested.
Me too.
He says he's getting a small group together. Am I interested?
I say "heh...wow. um, depends on the guys but yeah I could probably deal fine". And then I get nothing, even though he stayed online.
Was I too honest?
Too non-committal?
I guess what I should have said was "who's going?" or just "yup, sounds fun."

In the space between him bringing up the group scene and me logging off, I noticed my ex logged in.
I never used to see him on at all.
So rare, in fact, that I had forgotten he was still in my buddy list.
But I see he's been logging in alot the past couple of weeks. Either he and the fucktard he dumped me for are doing group scenes, he's actively fucking over the fucktard, or the fucktard is gone.

Hmmm... any connection between the ex logging on and the other guy suddenly dropping the ball? (They both live in the same neighborhood).

Anyway, the next day I found a similar offer somewhere else and had a very fun time. And, trust me, it was the MH guy's loss.

Dinner

Had dinner last night with two Boston bloggers, Will and Steve.

Will was as fun and engaging as always. He'll be leaving for NH in a month. Considering both he and GayProf are out of here in July, I really should set up something for a party or dinner somewhere...

Steve was as high-energy as the last time I met him. Fascinating to watch, actually. He really should bottle that energy and sell it to us low-energy schlubs and he'd make a fortune. Attractive as before, too - but I already know I'm (among other things) far too old and far too fat for him.

Steven's cute friends "Grinny" and "4Moms" were there, too (Don't look at me, it's Steve's naming system). They were remarkably mature for their ages, which is a very good mix - young, cute, and like actually smart and showing good sense. Lack of the latter is why I don't even pay attention to guys under 25. Also, they complimented Steve's "youthful exuberance" quite nicely.

Oh yeah, expect Steve to talk shit about me because (among other things) I don't know what some famous gay scarf company is (can't even remember the name). So I'm gay and don't know shit about fashion. I'm still (at my best) good in the sack and that's what counts, right?

OK Weekend?

Tomorrow looks like it should be an OK (not super-duper) day in Provincetown (high of 66 degress, partly cloudy). Damn sight better than the past few weekends. I should just hop on the fast ferry and see if I can score a room for the night.

Or I can save my money and try hooking up again online.

I've been a bit extra busy this week. I have like four half-written posts and no time to finish them. Also, no HNT pics today, unless something changes by the end of the day.

I suggest looking at Steven instead.

Evidently he has a similar body-history as myself. And now he's, ya know, lickable. :)

UPDATE: I totally forgot this was happening today. Man, I'm out of touch. Gay Marriage is now safe from constitutional attack in Massachusetts until at least 2012.

This post is a request for advice. Very, very seriously. I may as well use this blog to tap the brains of you folks out there. I feel no shame in that.

As some of you know, I've plugged on-and-off at seeing if I could get a job in San Francisco. I wanted to move out of Boston for various reasons and very much wanted my new home to be SF.

However, I'm in a mild job search depression. I won't say I feel hopeless. But I do have the mild sense of being trapped.

And so, I am reaching out for advice or help.
------

Craigslist, Monster, Careerbuilder.

All I've gotten through any of these sites is piles of fake job offers – scams.

For a period last November/December and then again this past month, I've sent out about 80 or so resumes. I may as well have emailed them to my Trash folder.

And now I'm realizing I still am missing something crucial. And I'm feeling trapped.
------

I am a "doctor" who is, evidently, less qualified than a high-school graduate.

My biggest handicap, around which I still struggle, is my job background. After 15 years in microbiology (doctorate and postdoc), my decision to leave academic science was, while liberating, also dangerous. I did not, and in many ways still DO not, know the common assumptions of job searching.

Understand that in academic science, job advancement is very linear. Grad school, get PhD, postdoc, postdoc again, get a lab somewhere. It's all done very above board with the full assistance of your current "bosses' or advisers.

You write up a CV, a dry recounting of the facts of your experience, as opposed to a resume, which I now view as making a "Just Jack! Show" of the business world.

There's no secrets, no dances. You're good at what you do and this place has a position available, your boss makes a call, you go have an interview. Maybe you get the job, maybe not, but you're already in the running.

Now, applying for a job in the real world, I find myself still learning, frequently, that I'm doing something wrong. This happens partly because there is no one around me to give me pointers. It's me and Google. And with Google, I have to filter out most advice as being some kind of scam.
------

I am missing something.

My most recent realization - one I had originally worried about but one helpful soul said should not be a concern - has been that what job postings *say* they want is often far from complete.

Case in point yesterday:

I happened to notice a posting from a company in which I actually know one of the hiring people. Looking at the posting, I thought this was the perfect next step job for me:

• I fit most (if not all) of the written requirements (so I think).
• It looks exciting.
• It's in the San Francisco area - my #1 goal location!
  

So I chat with the person I know. His comment?

"If you don't have at least a Certified Associate in Project Management credential, don't even bother applying"

What the heck is that? And I look up and down the job posting and still can't see where it says anything about certification in any way, even obliquely. I can't find anything.

I then I think: "How many job postings did I respond to that had a 'secret' requirement? How much have I been wasting my time?"

It's a bit of a downer.
------

Oh, I'm told I can take a course and a test to get that certification.

The course is $2500. The test is around $200.

So, it ain't happening. Ya gotta have money to make money, I guess.
------

I can do anything – except getting people to realize that very fact

This is all very frustrating as I know I am capable of so much more…

See, my current work (no details!) is "coordination". And I was surprised that people consider "coordinators" as some kind of secretary that arranges meetings, as this job involves a huge amount more thought and skill than as some kind of automated meeting arranger bot.

I've had lengthy discussions with friends with lots of experience in the same professional field as mine (public health), who've said "you should be a business analyst - you intrinsically see the logic and the gaps." I have a PhD in a science - so maybe this shouldn't surprise people? And I am now used to understanding the breadth, and some depth, of a multi-faceted project and I believe I'm using my innate abilities in observing the process.

Problem is, in this field, I have no authority to initiate much of anything – planning, presentation… nothing. Sometimes, at larger meetings, I desperately want set the stage, make a clear and concise overview, dispel misconceptions, highlight strengths and gaps, and elicit directed comment and advice from the broad panel of people present. I honestly feel I have that capability.

But I don't have that right. That's the way it works here.

(Oh - For those laughing at my using the word "concise", don't. I know very well how to summarize. A blog like this is a terrible place to judge me on that score. Short and crystal clear presentations takes work and time to prepare. You think I spent a lot of time working on blog posts?)

This is unfortunate, considering my prior training. One of the good sides of being in the sciences is you had to - HAD TO - give presentations of your work constantly, to various sizes of crowds. It was great training. And I had all the authority because the project, in THAT profession, was 100% mine.

And while everyone where I work now is great - I mean really a great group - I am realizing how restricted I am relative to what I see as my true capabilities and innate talents.

I'm stagnating.

So, I feel the natural next step is to move into a position where I *do* have that right. I don't care if it's as an "assistant" or "associate" role, of course. I'd essentially be entering into the true "management" arena for the first time.

As a plus - I am adaptable and, so, have no problem entering into a whole new field. Give me time to learn the lay of the land, and I'm in.

But since my prior work (microbiology) basically makes me "inexperienced" in the world's eye, I fear there is little chance anyone can see any of my abilities or qualities. They say get a job at the bottom (for say 30k/year), like I just got out of college. Um… I'm almost 40. I'll be sent to prison for lack of debt payment (do they do that?) if I make that money for even a month.

I'm in a bind out of which I am searching for an escape.



So I'm asking for advice.


How do I deal with this?

How do I make the right connections?

How do I prove myself?

How do I get my leg in the door?

Counter reset.

Finally!

I alluded to this last week. I actually wrote this up before writing that post. And yeah, I'm aware it sounds like a rehash of that post, but I think I go more in depth here - and that's good for me. (Though, I'm sure others might feel differently) Besides, I think it ends pretty positively...

An interesting conversation thread during a therapy session.
It's all paraphrased, of course.

Therapy Session Summary:

You trained yourself to feel inferior. You got all fucked up. Now you know it, so you can finally move on.

Q&A:

When you were a young child, and you were overweight, how did you feel about yourself?
I was left out, I was inferior, I was a joke.

Were you persecuted or anything like that?
OMG, no.

No, it was just the usual: the nasty comment, the absence of friends, the sadness of rejection. When I hear stories of some of the truly evil shit done to some young kids - humiliation, beatings, by both children *and* adults - I just think: "no, my mind would have simply cracked. I would have learned how to hang myself and then done it."

How did you feel about yourself? Did you have a core self-confidence?
No. I knew I was an awful person - because of how I looked - and a reject. And I did not have any tools to change the physical reason why I was viewed that way. So, while not being tortured in any way... life was still an inner world of mild flaying. I was only happy if I could make myself not think about my aloneness.

OK. When did you lose that weight.
Around 12 years old - so middle of Junior High School. My mom helped me by getting me to a clinic that gave me the tools. A structured and varied diet that was actually doable. I lost the weight in a year or less.

Did that improve things?
It should have, huh? Somehow it didn't make me popular in any way. I mean in a year I went from pretty overweight to kinda skinny. (Except for my legs. I hated my legs back then.) But somehow, I was still gawky or whatever. I was still one of the "weirdos".

Are you sure?
Well... that's how I felt. Was it still true? I dunno. Probably, though.

But it wasn't about your weight anymore? Or did you still think you were overweight?
Well, I did have that problem - taking any weight-related imperfection as a sign of impending doom - for many years. Not as extreme body-dysmorphia, on that score, as some out there (of couse, it helped Toby do wonderful things to his body).

I still knew it wasn't like before. But I also knew I was still unpopular and unloved - and yet there wasn't that obvious physical reason anymore... so eventually I just decided I must be ugly in one or many ways.

So you never shook off the "rejection" feeling.
During those years? No. Never.

And being gay made things more difficult?
Back then I still didn't feel I could simply say "hey I'm gay. Anyone think they'd like to go out with me?" Heck... nobody did. So I feel madly, deeply in love a few times and - voila! - instant rejection! I mean, I didn't even have to ask. It was a basic assumption that no one else in school was gay.

Did things improve by college?
Not really. No. Same problems.

After college?
Um... no.

In your gay life?
Nope. I continued to view myself as somehow icky - ugly in various ways. No one successfully disabused me of this notion. It's one of the reasons I avoided Provincetown for many years, though that changed in the recent past.

So you never had sex?
Oh, no, I was having sex, on and off, since like 18 years old. But I was getting it in the only types of places I knew about: Places where you went specifically for sex. I guess I assumed people's standards were lower there and I was able to get a little something for that reason.

In a way, I think this contributed to my later behavior of not directly connecting sex to love - that having sex did not automatically mean you were "going out".

What about the years with your ex?
Nope. He basically ridiculed me for my insecurities - or, well, he simply shook his head and couldn't understand. The rare times he told me "you look good" was mainly just to shut me up from my panic attacks, so it was hard to take his word for it.

Most (though not all) of his friends seemed to treat me like an outsider (I assume this is the reason), so that didn't help much either. Among all of them, I don't remember a time when someone would ever say "you're attractive". So, again, I assumed all the things that could possibly make me unattractive were true. Now, I know no one should be forced to say "you're attractive". I just happened to notice the lack of any positive vibes about me, physically.

I also noticed that in pictures from parties, gatherings, etc, I was in almost no pictures at all. So, again, I assumed I was being avoided to not ruin an otherwise pretty and gay photo.

Has there been any point where you've consistently - for any significant period - felt self-confident?
Hmmmm.... Since late February.

This year?
Yeah.

Your 37 years old. You're saying that less than 4 months ago is the first time you've had a long stretch of feeling ok with yourself?
Yup.

I mean, I don't feel like I'm grrrrrrrreat! Heck, I'm half expecting the time when it all crashes again and I think I'm fooling myself and everyone's been laughing about it. Though I'd like to think I'm stronger than that now.

It feels like I have finally convinced myself - barely - of my good points and am trying (with varying success) to deal with my bad points.

What happened back in February to make this happen?
Dunno. Maybe the one-year anniversary of being dumped. Maybe the decision to break off all contact with everything that involved my ex. Maybe some other stuff. (I address the beginnings of this recovery period here.)

And now I feel like maybe - just maybe - I am about to start the hard part.

Which is?
To meet guys as equals. To feel strongly that I have a lot to offer. That I have the right to expect the kind of guy I want and the treatment I want.

Basically, to start meeting guys as an independent person who's worth his weight - whatever it may be - in gold.

Aaaaand our time is up.

No, I didn't strip for my therapist.
I'm still not going to do this all the time, but it seemed appropriate to the post.
HAPPY HALF-NEKKID THURSDAY!

I put an update in the middle of the last post to make it clear where I hurt myself. I think there was some confusion about exactly which part of my ass got hurt.

Anyways, a couple of clips to pass the time...

Now, I still have to see the film 300 at some point. I think I'd rather wait for the DVD and watch it at home as porn.

However, I get the gist of it, so I do get the funny in this (which



In the Wikipedia blurb about this short, it says:

United 300 is a short film that spoofs United 93 (2006) and 300 (2007). It won the MTV Movie Spoof Award at the MTV Movie Awards 2007. The short was created by Andy Signore along with some of his friends.

I just think it should have said:

...The short was created by Andy Signore along with some of his rather ripped friends whom I'd like to meet.

But, to be clear, I'm sure none of these guys (like the cast of 300 and all of Sparta) are not gay. Cause gay guys aren't muscleheads and they don't run around shirtless with gorgeous abs.

Speaking of not-not-gay, I just got sent this clip (from a month ago or so)...

So, after the Memorial Day weekend, I decided to help myself pump the booze out of my system by working out pretty much every day for the week.

Though I did things a little differently. Instead of going to the gym, I decided to try some videos that guide you through some pretty intense workouts at home (a combination of weights-driven and body-driven routines).

It felt great. Heck, I even did yoga, which I've never looked at before in my life. And, no, yoga is NOT easy. You work and you work hard. You will pour sweat. I did surprise myself in the number of positions I got kinda right on the first try.

Anyways, that all sounds good.

But, with me, something's bound to screw up. In this case two things. But one is more oddball than the other.


Stupid #1

Well, first I had been doing this ab routine every other day or so. (I know, like that's gonna matter until I lose the fat... well, we'll see how that goes.) And there's some motions that are really rapid and, if you're not using some kind of cushioned mat, can be very abrasive - especially on your butt. But I hadn't had any issue as of yet, and I have a carpet so...

Then on Saturday, I had just finished that routine again. As usual, sweat was pooling, following gravity. I lay back for a sec to breath and recover. And I could feel a trickle of sweat move down my back and into the tailbone area - the spot where your butt meets your back, right in the crack.

And the sweat trickled into the crack.

And I screamed.

What the fuck! Ow Ow OW OWOWOWOWOW!!!!

I lept up, ran to the bathroom and quickly rinsed with water (bringing quick relief). With my back to the bathroom mirror, I dropped 'em and looked to see what creature had attached itself to my crack. And there, right at the top, just inside, were two very raw mirror-image abrasions.

(UPDATE: Since there is unclarity about where it was, I provide this:
No, that's not me. I'm just pointing out where it got raw. I think some people have an image in their head of me injuring a totally different part of my butt.End Update.)

Jebus! I fucking rug-burned my fucking ass.

Only I could pull this off.

As I gingerly slathered aloe gel on myself, I thought, "this is not the gel nor the activity I was hoping would be meeting my butt this weekend. Sigh."

It's Monday and it still stings a little - and looks red enough - but it's healing up.

If I *had* hooked-up, I really didn't know how I was gonna explain it, should the question arise. I figured I'd just say what happened and hope they didn't think I was a complete whack-job. "Rug-burned his ass? Who fucking does *that*?"

Oh well, it didn't end up mattering anyway.


Stupid #2

Yeah, so on Sunday, I helpfully carried one of those heavy water cooler Spring Water jugs up a flight of stairs. My way of doing this, feeling all manly-man, was to just grab it by it's handle, while still standing, and just heave it up the stairs one-handed.

Just an hour previously I had finished a workout.

Funny how in a few hours my lower back on the one-handed side was suddenly seizing up.

And now I wince every time I make a wrong move. Like sitting. Or standing.

Oh god I hate back pain. It just drains the energy right out of you.

Fortunately, it's pretty low-grade in comparison to some back pulls in my past. I'm doing stretches and a heating pad, which seems to be slowly bringing it back to normal.


So, since those two pseudo-injuries which are so close to each other, there was a lot of "ooof!... ow!.... yikes!... ack!" going on at work. Especially when sitting.

But, as I said before, "three steps forward, two steps back" is still one step forward. And so next time, maybe with some kind of a cushy mat and no-lifting-with-bad-form, I'll improve my forward momentum just a bit more.

Now I gotta go fire up the heating pad and smother my ass in gel.

Concerned Women for America Condemns Adoptive Parents as Playing Game of 'House', Not Real Parents:

Heather Poe is Mary Cheney's live-in lesbian lover. She may act like a parent, she may treat the baby as a parent, she may love this baby with all of her heart, but in this reality we all live in, Heather Poe is NOT the baby's real parent. She has NO biological connection to the child whatsoever. Some man, the baby's real Daddy, is the child's other REAL parent.
...
Everyone knows there can only be one REAL biological Mommy. We are all grown adults. Playing "house" is a game for children..."

(bold-facing added, all-caps in original, h/t Think Progress, AmericaBlog)

That's right. You adopted a kid? you're not the child's biological parent?

Shame on you!


Of course, the context of this was the two parents being gay.

But, interestingly, their sole argument is that they can't be "parents" because one of them is not the biological parent. Therefore, people who adopt kids are nothing at all and deserve to be disrespected.

Wow. Do these people pretty much hate everyone?

---

Late Addendum: Of course I read this again and realized the current reference to "House". I'm slow and culturally backward.

Regardless, I kept thinking, really what could bother them so much about "House"? Oh yes, he's a hard-ass and, frankly, I'd rather work for Dr. Cox than him, but cripes, he saves lives. What's the problem?

Oh, wait, they must be thinking about THIS "House":

Ah, now all the pieces are falling into place.