Ready, Reset, Go! (2006-2008)

(Late update)
I feel obliged to point out that, no, I didn't write about *everything* that happened. More of interest - perhaps the more interesting things - occurred than I actually wrote. That was intentional, for my own reasons. Nothing amazing, to some. But fun.
(End update)

Well, that was an experience.

So, yeah, I totally got lucky and won 2 tickets from Joe at Joe.My.God for the Black Party in NYC this past weekend. (here's a bizarre trailer for last year's party). A promo photo from 2007 as well:

Lemme just run through it fast and long...

Background for Saturday:
I was previously informed of two things. (1) get plenty of sleep before the party - it lasts from 10pm to 3pm the next afternoon. (2) Don't eat anything from noon onwards the day of the party.

Um... OK.

Well, I didn't succeed at all with #1. I was surprisingly ok with #2.

Regarding sleep, I have terrible sleeping problems these days. I invariably wake up at 4am or so. I hate it. Though sometimes that gets me to do my exercising early (something that's easy since I exercise at home).

So, while I did better than normal, I only managed to sleep from midnight Friday to about 7 in the morning.

Then I slept for a half hour on the train to New York and maybe 15 minutes at Rey's house.

Then it was 9:30pm and we headed out to meet with Daryl and a number of their friends at a bar nearby the Roseland Ballroom (where the party was).

So, little food and little sleep.

However, I was basically doing fine as far as a normal night out would go.


Pre-party instructions:
We were sitting at Barrage for pre-party drinking. (You'll be happy to know I had two drinks in two hours - practically tea-totaling for me!)

About 8-10 other people were there, Rey, Daryl, and one other friend from the area. Also there were a hot kid, friend of Daryl's, from Europe and a few other woofy friends from Colorado, clearly prepared with bits of leather in various places.

And, as I made clear in the last post, I was a bit nervous - not REALLY nervous, but strangely uneasy - about what would be expected of me, in terms of my ability to stay awake at this type of party, as I'd never been to any circuit thingy before.

So I took instructions and proffered information a little more literally than I think I would normally.

• They're going to militantly confiscate your cell phone and your camera (I didn't bring one). Don't try hiding it, they'll find it.


• They're going to search us for any "prohibited" items anywhere on our body other than our crotches. (Really? I had the impression that some of these items are the only reason everyone makes it through 18 hours of partying. This is great! I figure I would see how people get high on life.)


• There's no liquor there. (Which, again, made me doubt the previous point)


• People spontaneously poo. (This one disturbed me greatly)

I don't know whether it was the minimal sleep, lack of food, or perhaps the small bit of alcohol, but, as people were sharing all their pearls of wisdom, I was becoming more and more nervous about my ability to survive this thing.

Then I asked a question. See, I knew this type of thing was not normally Rey's thing, so he hadn't been to anything like this before. So I asked the next person in the group:

"How many of these have you been to."
"None."
"None? Any other "circuit" parties?"
"Nope."
"huh."

And around the table I went.

Only the guy from Europe had been to circuit parties, though not this one.

Everyone else was as much a virgin as I was. And so I should listen to these stern warnings why?

But it was too late, I was assuming the absolute worst: My cheap-ass no-camera phone would be taken from me by force, I would be denied breath mints, there would be no booze, and, most distressingly, I would poo.

I can say that, in fact none of these happened at all. People were texting right and left, my breath was not bad (due to lack of breath mints, anyway), the bar was open till 4am (NYC closing time) and I did not poo.

Anyways, about the party.


My personal opinion (for me only):
First, I have to admit that if this were a party where the cover was, say, $40, I'd consider going. It really is a dance party with an atmosphere more like the NY Eagle rather than a tweaked out twinky dance club. I didn't feel severely out of place at all and it was really fun and energetic. No question, the party as a party was actually pretty enjoyable.

But would I pay $125? Um... maybe when I earn the money that was promised to me when I signed up to be gay. But for now...? I dunno.

As Rey points out, the Black Party is kinda like the NYC Eagle on steroids. So, I could see myself just coming to New York the weekend before and having fun at the Eagle and still have money for drinks. But, for this reason, among others, I am very grateful to Joe for letting me experience the party without the wallet drainage.


The atmosphere and space:
Having said that, it WAS fun.

This, I imagine, is NOT a typical circuit party.

Dark lighting, very leather/fetish. Lots of dimly lit corridors. Plenty of milling about areas where one is not required to dance and some large tents and rooms with people just hanging out. It all kinda worked for me to a reasonable extent. I certainly felt like staying.

Upon entering one of these "hanging-out" areas, these were stuffed in my pocket:

I'm not sure what was intended for me to do with these things.

(For the official record, I do nothing unseemly, ever.)

(Please refer to the term "playing coy".)

Anyway, the whole layout was a very impressive space. Further, people were continuously pouring into the place. I mean, we arrived around midnight and there were a ton of people there (easily 1-2 thousand?), but they weren't even beginning to be called a "crowd" in this ginormous space. Seriously, the place was at least 3 times (?) more packed by 5am. I am led to believe it became even more crowded later in the morning.

It also appeared to be well organized, as far as I could tell. The issues with the coat checking (as described by Joe.my.god in 2006) appeared - to my eye - to be dealt with, as every time I passed by the coat area (until 5am, at least) it was a small line, at worst, or even a straight walkup. And yet the crowds in the place kept growing.

The few staff that I dealt with seemed friendly and helpful. I even had an issue with kind of losing my coat check ticket- something I've never done EVER ever ever. But they were totally great and helped me resolve the issue with minimal fuss. (Fortunately Rey and I had checked our coats one right after the other)


The music:
Those who know me realize I have absolutely nothing to say on this matter. Was there music? Basically, anything that sounds like club music to me registers as a background buzzing or static, so... that's that.

My own unfortunate episode:

a) To prove that I wasn't tweaked-out circuit trash:

Sigh... ok, I should point something out. I have always had somewhat low blood pressue. This isn't usually a bad thing. With the additional trait of having very high "good" cholesterol and very low "bad" cholesterol, this might mean my chance of heart attack is lower than normal.

On the other hand, since I was 12, if I was not careful, especially without food and at high temperatures, I could be prone to blacking out. I remember how I learned about this. In 1982 I rushed to meet my school friend for a morning showing of Tron the very first Saturday it was out.

I had no time to eat that morning.
The temperature was in the mid-90s and humid as it could be without raining.

We were on line for a good half-hour when... my head started pounding, everything went swimmy... and I awoke with a crowd of people looking down at me, smacking my face and pouring water on me.

I had apparently crumpled to the ground with almost no warning at all.

later, doc made it clear that as long as I have food, or better yet, potassium rich liquids, like OJ or Gatorade, I should be fine. But without it, this could happen again. Especially in severe heat, lack of sleep, and lack of food/potassium.

And it has happened, a couple of times. Once while carrying weights, even. But not really in the past 15 years.

Many, many, many more times I have felt it starting to happen, but I usually know how to stop it.

b) I'm sure I appeared to be tweaked-out circuit trash:

Anyways, so here I am walking around the party, seeing the Black Party sights. One of which really made me cringe, by the way. Nothing erotic - think of the hooks in the movie Hellraiser...

So in one area it's really, really crowded, and really, really hot. And suddenly a heavy whiff of poppers fills the air.

And then it hit.

Recall, now. It's 4am. No sleep in 23 hours, no food in 16 hours. A bit of alcohol and stuff, but not much, really. And then poppers, of which, for me, a small whiff is as strong as a big-ass snort is for most.

And as I walk through a dark narrow corridor with a throng of people emitting heat and sweat... and my head starts pounding and things go swimmy, just like all the other times.

I realize I'm in a bit of trouble.

I reached the nearest wall, pushed my back into it, and slid down into a sitting fetal crouch as people piled back and forth in front of me... I opened my eyes some time later (minutes? an hour?), to see two EMS (emergency medical services) guys looking down at me propping me up.

The medical guys were great. I thought I was gonna be ejected - figured they'd take me as some over-medicated tweaker and toss me in the garbage bin. But, no, they walked me into the emergency stairway, which was empty and had a lot of outside ventilation, cool and fresh.

They told me to breathe.
They talked to me and smiled.
They gave me water.
And they could see me start to recover.

And back inside I went.

I met up with Rey and the others - apparently I'd been missing for some time and they were a bit worried. They kid from Europe seemed particularly concerned and showed this by deeply kissing me.

c) A small rebound:
It was like 4:30am when Rey and I decided to leave - probably for my sake, but he was exhausted too.

That's when my minor coat check ticket fiasco happened. For 10 minutes we searched every part of my clothing, shoes, etc. What's funny though is that if that hadn't happened, we'd have been on the way home already.

But, after having the helpful staff resolve the ticket issue, I realized I felt quite a bit better. It's like a switch got flicked. Right as rain. (more or less)

So, at my instigation, we stayed another hour, exploring the dance floor, and I found another tent where people were hanging out.

By 5:30, a couple of us were ready to go.

Man, how much I craved a nice bed.

Once we got back, it took maybe 3 seconds to hit the pillow and go off to snoresville.

I got about 6 hours or so of pretty decent sleep. More than usual for me.

Oh yeah!! And when I took a shower I looked in the mirror and had a shock of horror as this huge red gash went down my back and waist and down the front of my thigh. It was fluorescent paint. Apparently quite a few people said they'd been helpfully smeared as well.

Anyway... Then Rey and I had a nice brunch and, a few hours later, I was back on a train going home to Boston.

All in all:
All in all, I really did have a good time, in spite of some unnecessarily concerning advice and my own worrisome experience.

Again, if it wasn’t out of my money league, I could see going again. Who knows, we’ll see.

I wasn’t able to stay late enough to see David’s yoga act or find Joe to thank him – I’m assuming he arrived long after we’d left. But I figure I’ll get to see them and others in May.

And I’ll be sure to get more sleep – and eat something, too.

OK, this was one busy week for me workwise.

I am soooo beat.

And now, after a week, I finally have a moment to consider...

I'm going to WHAT tomorrow?!?!!??!?

As a recap, I received two invites to a Black Party in NYC due to a freak winning accident during "Swag Tuesday" at Joe.My.God.

I've never been to one of these circuit party thingies, but considering I'd never go otherwise, I figure I may as well experience it this time. Who knows, maybe I'll like it. But, like I said, it seems to involve a lot of staying awake, which I'm kinda bad at.

Anyways, now that I have a few hours between this busy week and piece and quiet today, I just talked with Rey on the phone, practically breathless, asking:

"How does this work? What do I do? What's the recommendations for surviving this bizarre schedule of starting at midnight and ending at 3pm the next day? This all sounds like a crazy forbidding and out-of-my-league world! Eeek! I'm a-scared!!!"

See, I'm so used to going out on a Saturday night meaning: getting drunk and... well, that's that.

So, I figure this has got to be a bit different.

I was originally nervous because I imagined that it was basically a normal circuit part which, from what I can tell, is where every single guy is perfect in every (exterior) way. Perfect muscles, perfect body with zero fat, perfect clothes always in style, etc etc. Like this:

And while I imagine there is going to be plenty of that at the Black Party as well, there's some indication that it's a little different than most circuit parties. So maybe I want be all scared off.

I'm glad I won't be totally alone, at least for a little while. Heh... funny I can feel I could be alone in a crowd of hundreds (or thousands? I have no idea). But that's the inner me, I guess.

Also, I really have to figure what on Earth I'm going to do with myself for many many hours, since I am completely petrified of dancing. Ask anyone who knows me, I don't dance. It's mainly because I don't know how and am afraid to look like more of a dope than normal.

And, from what I'm told, the activities at a circuit party are (1) dancing and (2) not-dancing, with the former preferred to the latter by about 9999:1.

As you can tell, there's a reason I've never been to one of these, as I feel I'd be playing in a world I'm not really fit to enter.

However, we shall see - I'm eager to jump in and see what's what.

And I'm grateful to Joe for the opportunity.


Wish me luck! Or, actually, wish me fun!

What does it mean if, during a meeting, a group of guys suddenly drops to the floor in front of me and starts doing push-ups?

I only ask because I wonder about these things.

And if they're wearing fatigues, does it mean they did something wrong and the drill sergeant is punishing them?

An observation.

This...

And this...


are both retarded traditions.

What am I talking about? Let Sedaris explain. (h/t Molly I & Atrios)




Heh... Classic!

Interestingly, while we in America seem to have to dig back to pagan rituals to explain why we have a bunny (I mean, seriously. A bunny?), the bell thing has somewhat more practical explanations - even if the result is just as absurd as an egg-delivering rabbit.

Flemish-speaking Belgium shares many of the same traditions as North America but sometimes it's said that the Bells of Rome bring the Easter eggs together with the Easter Bunny. The story goes that the bells of every church leave for Rome on Holy Saturday, called "Stille Zaterdag" (literally "Silent Saturday") in Dutch. So, because the bells are in Rome, the bells don't ring anywhere.

Similarly, in French-speaking Belgium and France, "Easter bells" (« les cloches de Pâques ») also bring Easter eggs. However, bells in churches are silent beginning Maundy Thursday, the first day of the Paschal Triduum, as a sign of mourning...
- Wikipedia

And, so a Flemmish guy I used to work with told me, on Good Friday, the kids would ask "mommy why are there no bells ringing?" And mommy, not at all able to discuss the winding loops of sectual theology to a five year old, would say, "shut up and eat yer 'aggis!" No, wait, that's Scotland. Mommy would say, "Honey, the bells have all flown to Rome. They'll fly back on Easter morning and bring Easter eggs!!"

See, that's practical. Still retarded like the bunny. But at least practical.

Can you tell I'm avoiding things here?

Nothing's even remotely gay here.

(OK, there's something vaguely gay-ish at the bottom of the post, so skip there if bored.)

I haven't a real clue as to what it is I'm avoiding or why.

It's not just a dry spell. It's that, as I mentioned in the beginning of the last post, I seem to have quite a lot of different things tangled in my head and don't know which strand of spaghetti to start pulling at first.

Thing is, they all seem sort of unrelated but equally important to me. I happen to always believe many things in one's head are spawn of common ancestors. I don't mean *my* ancestors, though I don't doubt the genetic and cultural influence of them. No, I'm using the term in an evolutionary sense, I suppose. Meaning the following...

Take these individual strands twirling in my brain (and this is a tiny subset, as you can imagine):

• Wanting to contribute something productive to scientific debate, specifically attempting to counter anti-science propoganda, but feeling at a loss as to how someone with no street cred can make a difference.
• Wanting to contribute something productive to the political debate but feeling at a loss as to how anything I might say, here or in private conversations, will be anything more than pissing in the wind.
• Wanting a job where I can prove that I can make clear and measurable productive difference in the world.
• Feeling increasing sorrow at losing contact with a child for whom I once presumptuously thought of myself as a "parent".

Now, each of these have a number of different wires that help form particular points but are not shared by all four, such as the joy intellectual pursuits, sense of right and wrong, love and affection, etc.

But there is a common theme here, essentially stated in the type of job I ultimately want. Something unbelievably presumptuous and arrogant of myself to even contemplate:

I wish to make a difference in the world.

I want to matter.

And the important thing to state here is, I want to make a *good* difference.

That last point actually can't be stressed enough.
It's far too easy to make a "difference" by being an evil bastard, like Bono. (Seriously, read the link, it's funny!) It's much harder to make a difference that helps to improve the lives of people in the world, even in some small way.

But it's what I want to do.

I know I have the ability to do it.

And I am simply unclear on how to do it, what road to start down. Or maybe I simply can't focus on my options. Especially in the context of the need for a job that pays better than a volunteer position.

And I'm writing this partly to have it on paper, so to speak, but also to put it out there to you all.

I can't expect the answers to magically arrive, I know. I'm just casting a wide net for ideas.

---

On a non-contemplative gay-type note:

Holy Frak, I actually won Joe.My.God's latest Swag Tuesday! Two tickets to the Black Party in NYC!

As a note, I've never been to a (fill-in-the-blank) Party of any type, ever. Not even to a more commonplace circuit party. And heck, it's a rare day I ever go to a dance club. I'm clearly into bars where people drink/talk/cruise/other-stuff.

However, since getting to NYC is a low-cost affair for me, I said that if I actually won the tickets, I should take that as an excuse to just do it and have fun.

I have no idea if I will survive such a den of iniquity. I'm actually rather nervous at the prospect. Not at the iniquity, mind you. But, among other things, the requirement to make it 8 hours, let alone *18*, is rather daunting. Clearly, I will not be drinking the whole time. That's a physical impossibility for me, as quite a few of you know personally.

Do they have nap-rooms there??

Come to think of it, I hear David is (mumble mumble mumble) so I imagine I can (mumble) if I feel too overwhelmed. (edited by request - will change back when beans are spilled with authorization. Actually, it's rather interesting written like this).

(Or: how can I get in the business - or hobby - of using my training to make a positive difference in the world?)

Well.

My brain has been all over the frakking place.

Sometimes it seems like I have so many not-really-related yet equally-important-in-my-mind things going on in my head that my only option feels to be to speak everything at once, alternating words of different thoughts within the same sentence.

Like this:

I felt rough this past week. I want my ex a biologist job is asking to make me feel I am a good communicator to re-establish some ties. I want to help make a positive difference to help make science clearer, but I am still unsure. A wonderful massage helped.

Hmmm... there is some vague sense even in that mish-mash, I suppose.

The topics were, in fact:

• I felt rough this past week, but a wonderful massage helped a bit.
• I want a job that makes me feel I'm making a positive difference in the world.
• I am a biologist by training and I am a good communicator, so I want to help make science clearer to people.
• My ex is asking to re-establish some ties, but I am still unsure.

The two middle ones have become of increasing importance to me over the past few months.

I want a job that makes me feel I'm making a positive difference in the world.
AND
I am a biologist by training and I am a good communicator, so I want to help make science clearer to people.

OK, these are no doubt related.

The short story is as follows.

As I mentioned somewhere in the deep past, my training is in biology - specifically, an overlapping of microbiology, genetics, and molecular biology (which is pretty commonplace training these days). I had a PhD and some post-doctoral work under my belt, but then, for various reasons, including the family which I no longer have, I bolted from academic science research.

Fortunately I was able to take a job that could be viewed as a "transition," one where my science background is of use but which also calls for great amounts of communication, negotiation, and project management skills.

Now that a few years have passed, I see I have no intention of returning the lab bench. I no longer see myself being on the front lines of research - that position is a highly worthy quest, but the money to pay for such work is deserved by other, better, and more dedicated scientists than myself.

However... I am now becoming aware that, while my interest in actually doing the science has waned, my keen interest in the wonders of the scientific discoveries themselves, and their implications, has undergone a marked resurgence in me - and all in the space of just a couple of months.

See, along with programs on world history, I've been watching quite a bit lately on science. In fact, I even bought the DVD series of "The Universe". I've been absorbing quite a bit of new information as well as reviewing old concepts from my former life in biology.

I have been watching and reading some works - not the official works, but essays, seminars, and discussion panels - of various scientists and science communicators like Richard Dawkins, Neil deGrasse Tyson, and a veritable parade of other folks upon who's essays and youtubed talks I've stumbled in the wee early morning hours before getting ready for work.

The ones that really get me are those in which they help educate the public, including by direct question and answer periods.

And I'm sitting there thinking two consecutive thoughts:

• Geez, in the general public, there's still a complete misunderstanding of even the most basic concepts of biology (and science, in general)
• Dammit, I can be really, really good at explaining this stuff!

OK, at least I think I am. Well, my mother says I am.
Of course, we know our mothers would say such things, wouldn't they?
But maybe it's true.

I mean, I just hear someone say they took an antibiotic to treat a viral infection and think, "they don't know the difference between a bacterium and a virus."

I look at someone asking "how often does 'new genetic information' get created in nature" and I scream, "all the frakking time!!!"

Given a moment and a forum, I would at least endeavor to explain it.

By the way, I should stress that I am NOT saying "my goodness, how uneducated people are!"

No. That just lays all the blame on everyone else. It also has an air of derision and righteous judgment ("Most people are stupid, unlike myself").

No, in fact it's the filp-side of that: It would seem as if the job of describing and clarifying science to the world is not being done well enough. And let me be clear, science education is being done by many many people and it is being done very well. But, when 66% of the US thinks the Earth is less than 10,000 years old (inferred by the origin of man time-line), the net result is that explaining science is not being done well enough.

And to that my response is: "I want to help!"

Is there a reasonable career in science education? By the way, I don't mean in a school. I'm not convinced I'd be a good full-time teacher, and I refuse to be one of those professors many of us had who, while being undeniable geniuses, were horrid teachers.

What I mean is, there is a real value to helping the public at large understand things that need explaining. And, again, I want to help.

Sadly, scientists don't get to (publicly) opine on science until they are well-established and heavily respected in their fields.
Well, I wasn't really in the running for that status.
And, regardless, I'm out of it altogether now.

So I just sit here, as with much in my life, with my thoughts safely trapped in my head. No one off of which to bounce them. No one to correct or encourage me. No way to even know if I'm completely deluding myself to believe I have a valid opinion about anything at all.

But most importantly, I sit with no one to ask me the questions that will prompt my responses. No one I can help clarify what was once a confusing or obscure fog of mystery. To challenge me to better explain what I mean, to do the leg-work of gathering information and turning it into an comprehensible story that brings a light of understanding where previously there wasn't even a perceived need-to-know.

I'd love that as a job.

I suppose it's more likely I could make it a hobby.

Or I could just neglect it like I do many creative sparks in my mind.

Um...

So does anyone have any biology questions??

I know, I know, it's not on until April 4th, but this is the kind of picture that gets me all atwitter about the long-awaited final season of Battlestar Galactica.

That's the geek side, of course.

There's also damn good story-telling, good characters that I care about, dramatic flow, and so on and so forth.

And then there's the side that I *still* firmly believe should attract every gay male to this show.

Michael Trucco


Tahmoh Penikett
(yes, I know these aren't from BSG. Someone show me some better BSG Penikett ones?)





















and of course... Jamie Bamber.



I mean, don't y'all think it's worth giving it a spin?

Oh yeah, there's also some attractive women on the show, too. And that interests me how?

(including the Bamber movie, all except the Cylon pic is h/t Superherofan!)

You can tell my brain is not focused on "sharing" at the moment.

Yeah, my mind is kinda all over the place.

Anyways, here's another short clip.

But, I have to say, it's one of the most creative things I've seen in a while.

FYI, I think the big mass off noodles and beef is something like Beef Stroganoff and is supposed to represent USSR/Russia. I didn't realize that was a Slavic dish (??).


(Reposted using video from boingboing.net which provides the names of the wars)

PS: Film's website here.
PPS: AH! Cheat sheet to all the foods and the countries they represent is here.

More like this, please?

This 9 minute recap of all of Battlestar Galactica is fantastic.

A very good primer if you decide to jump in on April 4th (at 10pm Eastern, SciFi Channel).



Actually, the same person (people?) did a similar one for Lost. This is great as I've never seen a single episode and wouldn't mind jumping in here, too. Anything to get my mind off other shit.



Now, if only I could have a 10 minute recap of my life, maybe I could make sense of my present and future.

Actually, no... I would rather pass on the recap, thank you very much. Ick.

For those that don't know what this is about, no worries. I don't feel like giving background. I'm just venting.
---

Ugh... I made a mistake.

I dove back into reading those political blogs again.

Here's the issue.

Many of them have gone completely insane. Absolutely ape-shit bonkers. It's seething hatred right now.

Good fucking grief, is Bill O'Reilly right? Are they all haters? He can't be right. Every word out of his mouth is pure bullshit. And yet, these past few months, it's as if he is right. (On the other hand, a broken clock is right twice a day, so fuck O'Reilly.)

If I had never read some of these blogs in the past few months, I would feel very good about my choice (and not an easy one) in candidate.

But now? Now I'm embarrassed. Now I feel I'm in the company of complete asshats. Ick.

Fuck Kos... Fuck dKos diarists... Fuck the ever-melting-down Aravosis.

And if any of you among the asshats, well, sorry, fuck you too. If you happen to just know one of these asshats, please tell them to stop pushing for their candidate. No one wants the help of (based on written evidence only, mind you) socially inept wankers.

(Not "fuck Atrios", however. Though he can be a very sharp writer, he's kept his cards close to the chest and makes it clear that "all your candidates still suck". I soooooo respect him for that.)

I have lost so much respect for the folks participating in this spectacle .

These are people I respected, or thought capable of rational, reasonable thought? Was I delusional?

Why yes. Yes, I must have been.

Fuck them. They're destroying the Democratic party. And they know it.

And the list goes on.

I can not believe, in contrast to my druthers - let me tell you - that I should find myself defending Clinton. In fact, I find myself not defending her, but calling people on their bullshit and on their being complete assholes. Why should I feel that when I pull a lever for Obama, that the cause I am voting for is represented by these really (based on their writing only) pretty unstable and ill-willed humans?

These folks don't represent his cause, of course. They've gone renegade. If they actually listened to his speeches, they'd behave differently, but they don't.

It's like when Hindus would nod and smile at Ghandi and then go on a rampage killing their Muslim neighbors. Pretty much like that. The killing hasn't happened... yet.

They're behaving... like right-wingers. My God.


And now, because this behavior seems to be pathological in them, I find it hard to view these people as anything resembling reliable sources. Until some time ago, these blogs, and others, seemed rational and reasonable. Very passionate, but still slaves to reason then, not irrationality. (Well, Aravosis, often comes across as a hot head, but, again, whatever - it's usually kinda fun to watch. Passion IS good. Often but not always.)

Anyway, it made me depressed.
---

Regarding the political world, I feel very alone and helpless.

And where I so long felt I have so much to offer.

Seriously. In ways I'm not capable of describing here.

And I suppose, considering my last two posts, that isn't helping matters for me one bit.

Gosh, that did sound kinda sad, didn't it?

It's really not that bad, but it did happen. And I still don't know what it means, not exactly. Could just be gas.

Anyways, I am starting to feel a need to get away.

Not to another city, not to a gay mecca, not to all night drinking.

Just a place to not think.
Or at least to focus on myself, my life, my future.

Like a hotel on a beach, but not in a spring break place.
Or something.
And I mean, even for a day or two. Not much longer, since I don't have many vacation days to spare.

Financially, it's less tight than a few months back, but still not good enough for some kind of luxurious spa.

Though now I see why some people go to such places.


And plus, I still need to think about what it is I think I need to be thinking about on such a fantasy quiet time escape. (Did I just say that? What does that mean?)

Future employment?
Making a positive difference in the world?
Feeling stronger about myself?
About love and lust?
Writing a novel?

Or should I think about nothing?
Just lie on a beach somewhere and get a tan?
Watch the birds?
Listen to the wind and the waves?

I guess the problem is I don't even know what it is I want to get away to or why.

I just kinda do.

Perhaps it was a too social weekend, Friday night with friends from the neighborhood, Saturday night with a birthday party for my roommates (at home, thank God!), Sunday evening with the friends again. Wine at all occasions.

But can wine drinking explain this?

4 o'clock this morning. My Tivo is watching Queer as Folk. It's an early-season episode. I see Brian and Justin beginning the (ultimately) absurdly drawn-out dance of "I'm not your husband" - "Oh yes you are". Pulling in, pushing away. I see Michael's relationship with David in mid-stride (which subsequently collapses, but it was hot while it lasted. Frankly, I'd do either David OR Ben. Or both preferably. Actually, I'd pretty much do the whole male cast. But I digress). And, popping into my head is the first email in a year, albeit one line and impersonal, which I received from my ex this weekend.

I'm assuming that these things were somehow connected and explain why, as I woke up to the TV playing this at me in my sleep, I woke up crying.

I was crying as my eyes were opening.

Bawling. Like my life had been ripped away.

That experience of waking with an emotion of desperate loss has only happened once before, to my knowledge.

To my shock, I think I was crying specifically because of the soap-opera-ish, overdrawn, somewhat-fake world presented on that show.

I was crying, I think, because I felt the gaping lack of something that the show depicted.

I'm not even sure what lack I was responding to.

I only know - for real - I woke up crying.

Was it an echo of the past? A desire for the future? Or simply a lamentation?


I drank two glasses of vodka to knock me out again.

I'm paying for that a little bit right now, by the way.