Sunday, November 30, 2003

Saturday, November 29, 2003

Friday, November 28, 2003

Thursday, November 27, 2003


  • I am thankful that I am not a gay rights leader, gunned down in cold blood, with the killer serving only a 5-year sentence; we don't produce gay rights leaders anymore.
  • I am thankful that I am single, so I don't have to worry about the costs of hiring a lawyer to make a dent in making some sort of legal/financial arrangement with my partner that a simple wedding would take care of.
  • I am thankful that I am not a 21-year old Kansan serving a 17-year sentence for having gay sex; still waiting 5 months after the U S Supreme Court vacated the sentence and instructed the Kansas Court of Appeals to relook at the case.
  • I am thankful that I will never have to serve my country by occupying another country, as my government fears my homosexuality more than it fears terrorism.
  • I am thankful that the fear, neglect, hate, greed, and indifference of the world that contributed to 5 million new HIV infections this year was not able to count me in this year's record-breaking 3 million AIDS deaths.

    Someone please pass the gravy.

  • Wednesday, November 26, 2003

    A picture, a link to a song, or just babbling about some meaningless bit of sex; just so hard to decide.

    Tuesday, November 25, 2003

    The other night I was inspired to pull out my 8

    mm film projector and check out one of the EL PASO WRECKING CORP reels I bought a few months back on eBay. I had watched reel #1 way back when, but was somewhat disappointed because it left out the "homophobic" scene (where the homophobe gets thrown thru a plate glass window). But I figured they must have made these silent 8mm with just the sex, and no point wasting footage on dialogue and storyline (as there is no sound). But a few weeks back, a gentleman wrote me wondering if I had any idea how to get a "complete" El Paso - and many of you know I've wrote extensively about the missing pieces from the DVD and latter VHS versions; but this guy was talking about a watersports scene! I had heard that there was one, but apparently those scenes never made it to the commerical videotapes (I found this out from a guy running a film festival, who got Joe Gage to lend his personal copy of the film, plus appear).

    And before you get all excited, NO there is no watersports scene in the 8mm that I have. But the guy asking did send me a great B&W still featuring the two from that scene - The Gardener and The Rug Man - hot bearded redhead Lou Davis and another hairy beauty, Guillermo Ricardo. I really didn't think the scene could work without sound, but I was so friggin' turned on watching that scene in the tiny frame on my bedroom wall! If there was a hairy ass anywhere in sight, believe me, it would've gotten plowed (this from an avowed oral bottom). Do you think the chinka chinka chink sound of the projector added - the sort of "this is naughty" feel?

    Anyway, Sunday, while posting auctions, I remembered that I had this stray STR8 8mm, and figured as long as the projector was lying on the floor (occasionally getting kicked in this tiny space) I might as well check the film out. SO FUNNY! Late 70's, THE VIXEN - some chick is trying to make you think she's in a castle by staring blankly at a shiney chandelier; then the 2 gardeners come in, and since there's no sound, there's no jazzy music to let you know the action is about to start. But it's got subtitles! "You are so hot" "Let's sit on the couch" --- really imaginative stuff like that. So I'm continuing to work on my auctions as the projector is rolling, so I can make sure the film works OK. I look over at one point and this tongue is in this really weird place I've never seen, and then EWWWWWW I had to run out of the room! Jeez! When I came back, the young lady had jizm on her cheeck, then the subtitle "The End." Hope someone buys it and takes it out of my house.

    Monday, November 24, 2003

    The trouble with being a porn-dealer when you are a bigtime pornfan, is that you keep way way too much of the stuff you buy. This young man, for example - from the 1st issue of BODY magazine, Feb/Mar 1972 - how can I sell him? Oh sure, you non-porn lovers think, "just scan it, and look at it on your computer screen." HA! Having this magazine in my hands, the high-quality black & white photography, the texture of the page against my hand, his balls waiting patiently for me....

    In other semi-related rambling news, I've got lots of stuff up for auction you-know-where, including some clothing like a pair of never-used CK leather pants - check 'em out.

    Sunday, November 23, 2003

    I was home Friday night, wondering if that couple might call. Well, one of them said they'd be downtown for some sort of fundraiser, but hell, they ain't gonna be carrying around my phone number, right? So I figured if I stayed home, I'd just get hornier and grumpier, and I knew that despite my misgivings about going out to localsexclub, it seemed like the right choice. I mean, after having such great sex with those boys last Friday night, it kinda spoiled me (hence me staying in on my usual Sunday night last week) - I knew it would be near impossible to come close to the fun I had that night. Having spoken twice on the phone with those guys, and no definite plans for getting together, I knew holding my breath would only do one thing - kill me. I looked through my emails, and saw it was one of those "specialty nights" - where some sexgroup or another has their party - and it seemed there'd be a bigger crowd. This one encouraged "fetish gear" and forbid white briefs and sneakers (now we're talking) - and I thought, hmmmm, haven't worn those leather pants out in awhile.

    Now, if you go out to a sexclub in leather pants and don't have good sex, you need therapy. Fortunately for me and my nonexistent health insurance coverage, I won't be needing to see a therapist (well, not for that reason, anyway). I have to say, it was a fun night. I thought more guys would be "dressed up" but alas, I saw only 3 or 4 other guys with chaps or leather pants (and it made me laugh to myself that these guys in that gear who would never check me out otherwise, were) - most guys were in the usual jockstraps, some leather jockstraps, or completely butt naked. So I really dug walking around being one of the few guys with clothes on. And I was there for less than 10 minutes, and some guy gives me the biggest sweet smile, so of course I have to check him out. Turns out to be this nice guy I slobbered over a few months back, and we immediately started making out. He had some NYPD jockstrap - which normally would be a turnoff (you all know that cops don't wear those things, right?) - but his mustache felt pretty good on my face, and then held down up under my balls, that I didn't give it a second thought. Oddly enough, while it was real fun, at one point, we're both all sweaty, he whispers into my ear "Man, you made me cum twice - first when I was rimming you, and now while you're face was in my ass." Man, I hate when they cum and you don't even realize it! Kinda the downside of buttmunching, seems to really push a lot of guys over the edge, but then your eyes are blocked from seeing him shoot, goshdarnit.

    We had a few minutes of petting and stroking, which was good, then we said our goodbyes. After I came out of the bathroom, I see this guy on the floor talking to himself, tying and uniting some ropes; I didn't think much of it at first, as I've seen guys do a bit of that here before. But later, walking by again, I could see he had this huge long leather bodega of sorts - ooh, someone was going in there! I ventured down to the basement, watched some guys diddling for a while, tasted some guy's cock for quite a while, but he didn't want to cum just yet, so we took a break. Back upstairs, the bodybag (don;t ask me if that's the right word, it probably isn't) had a body in it. I moved around the corner, and could hear the guy asking "are you OK in there?" and other questions like that, as he started something that was making all this noise. Now mind you, I don't wear my glasses in this place, and it does have "mood lighting" (i.e. dark), so I rely on either getting close, or relying on my ears. FLUMP, flump, flump - what the hell is that? It sounded like a bicycle pump, but why the hell is he pumping air into the body bag? A few moments later, curiosity got to me, so I walk by real close, and saw that it was taking air out, and the leather (maybe it's vinyl?) was like schlirping tightly around this guy's body. Woah. I know I've seen this, but it was always like one of those pornformances on a stage. Moving back to one of the cell-like areas, suddenly I hear "GRpmf my foot gmffhmpd doesn't mffled glrp tighter gmfpsf" - and this guy next to me gets the giggles, and of course, so do I! The garbled words keep coming out, but in a rather calm, nonchalant way, and eventually you can figure out that the guy's OK, just not comfortable. But I can't stand there giggling like a silly teenager, and being next to this other giggler isn't helping, so I leave this room, and start to go into this other room.

    At the entrance to that room two guys are standing and talking, and this guy with a thick thick mustache says in the thickest Longg Eye-land accent "I just can't wrap my mind around this, doing this thing here, it's just so strange; at home, Shoe-rah, but hee-ah?" And I have to run into one of the bathrooms to stifle my laughter.

    Sometime later, the guy who needed the break is getting all goo-goo eyes at me (he wasn't doing that before!), and he DOES have a nice cock, so I maneuver my body enough to show interest without going over to him. He moves a bit closer, getting harder, and well, why am I being so coy - slurp slurp garblegobble - as he holds the back of my neck, then I push my face under his balls and he's moaning and I can't help but reach back a bit further with my tongue and his legs are kinda shaking with weakness as I suddenly plunge my face in and he shudders and after only a few seconds more, he pulls away, smiling slyly. He pulls me up, and asks "Are you OK?" I sorta smile but don't know what he's getting at, he asks again, so I tell him I'm fine, he kisses me lightly and walks away. I stand up fully, pull my pants back up from down around my ankles, leaving a few snaps unsnapped, and lean against a wall. I start to check out the other guys in the room, but realize my face is kinda sweaty. As I start to wipe the sweat, I realize, fuck, that's not sweat, that's cum, and I didn't even realize he shot on the side of my head while I was blinded with my face in his ass! Geez!

    Saturday, November 22, 2003

    Friday, November 21, 2003

    Link and Think is an observance of World AIDS Day in the personal web publishing communities. The project involves hundreds of webloggers, journalers, diarists and other personal website publishers, each linking to resources about HIV/AIDS or publishing personal stories about how the AIDS pandemic has affected them.

    I've signed up, and I hope other bloggers, etc., will do the same. I know it can be difficult for some of us to dig deep into our thoughts and come up with something that may be personal, tough, or hard to articulate. But it is one of the few chances we get, together as this "community" of bloggers to unite around one important notion: that our words can make a difference - can touch someone, can affect how others think or act. That we remember our friends who have left this world much too soon, that we want to help the millions who are affected by this disease now, that we care about preventing the spread of it, as well. Add your 2 cents. Click the banner above and participate.

    Thursday, November 20, 2003

    Sex is a funny thing. At least for me, it's a big motivating factor in many things I do. Like finally replacing that broken answering machine. It's been about 2 months, and not having the blinking red light with some cut-off message from someone trying to refinance my student loans or telling me about my all-paid free vacation to Florida wasn't something I missed at all. My close friends pretty much know if I'm not at work, I'm home on the computer, and email is the fastest way to reach me. But then, Friday night, those two boys who took me up to that crow's nest sorta spot at the sexclub gave me their phone number as we were dressing and getting ready to leave. They thought it was "charming" that I didn't have an answering machine. But those boys really turned me on, and when I called them on Sunday (less than 48-hours later, I know, but the "call-back rules" don't really apply after age 40) and they seemed so genuinely happy to talk, fill my head with a few more compliments, etc., I knew I had to get a machine. The hairy buttboy promised he'd call back Monday afternoon (but didn't) so I went to the local Kmart Tuesday and got the 13 dollar machine. Of course, I didn't install it. But HairyButtBoy called Wednesday afternoon, mentioned he'd tried to reach me Monday night, but couldn't leave a message, so I told him I'd get the machine installed later ("Installed?" he asked. "Don't you just have to plug it in?" - well, no! you have to pick out just the right 10 seconds of music, make sure it sounds just right, not to mention find an available outlet in this tiny room with 84 electrical gadgets, then find a spot to put the machine - it gets very complicated...).

    So, yesterday afternoon, just before leaving for work, I recorded a few seconds from Bjork's So Broken, and left. Coming home, of course no messages. But early this morning, I hear the machine click on, Bjork's voice, then a nice lady explaining how she can help me with my credit card debts. I better get a date out of this machine soon, or it's getting unplugged.

    Wednesday, November 19, 2003

    As you can see, I'm up early working on some auctions. Some of these are already posted, others I am working on now to get posted today and tomorrow. I wish I could keep these - you'll even notice one "non-porn" adult novel - Wild Oats by famed "sleaze" writer Orrie Hitt. I have a few of his - great adult novels from the late 50's / early 60's. (Have I mentioned that these books make FANTASTIC stocking stuffers for Xmas?)

    Meanwhile, thanks to all the folks who wrote in to guess who was in that commerical with Ryan Idol. The first responder already chose his video, and the second-runner up got an email this morning. Amazing how many of you knew Max Grand, but I was very impressed by the guy who correctly identified both Max and Alec Powers - the only guy who did that. I offerred a special prize, but he was sweet and said it might be too hard to get it to his country (who knew they were reading my page in the Philippines??!!)

    Tuesday, November 18, 2003

    "The question before us is whether, consistent with the Massachusetts Constitution, the Commonwealth may deny the protections, benefits and obligations conferred by civil marriage to two individuals of the same sex who wish to marry.

    "We conclude that it may not." - Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts.

    Well, this is something to wake up to! Obviously, it's still gonna be a tough fight - the Court ruled that "entry of judgment shall be stayed for 180 days to permit the Legislature to take such action as it may deem appropriate in light of this opinion." Which means that no marriage licenses will be issued (much like what happened in Vermont), and the State Legislature there is already considering a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. But I've seen no news source explaining the legal rational for this "stay" (I understand it politically - the Court is thinking, sure, this is the right thing, but WOAH! these folks are gonna freak, so let's just give them a chance to digest this). It's scarey and exciting, eh? And it could wind up like Alaska or Hawaii (where the Legislature wound up adopting a Constitutional Amendment banning gay marriage) but for the moment, it's hard not to get excited about language like this:

    "Barred access to the protections, benefits, and obligations of civil marriage, a person who enters into an intimate, exclusive union with another of the same sex is arbitrarily deprived of membership in one of our community's most rewarding and cherished institutions. That exclusion is incompatible with the constitutional principles of respect for individual autonomy and equality under law," it stated.

    Monday, November 17, 2003

    Toiling away at housework, porn auctions, etc., today. Got about an hour before work, and thought I'd share this commerical that I love. And, since so few of you bothered to guess at last week's picture, this opportunity to get one of my duped pornovideos might be easier for y'all. All you have to do is view the clip, and send in a guess as to one of the other men besides Ryan Idol in the clip. The first correct answer wins, but if I get more than five correct answers, I'll draw a name and give a scond person a prize. (It's a small file size, so even you dial-uppers should be able to view) Cool?

    "And if you're good, REALLY GOOD, maybe Daddy will let you suck his pretty cock"

    You know it took a long time for him to get that line right, but my favorite part is the noises he makes right after that when (porn actor X) goes down on him - he must've gone to school for that (it's rumoured that he had Lee Strasburg's help).

    Sunday, November 16, 2003

    Subj: tank you
    Date: 11/14/03 6:21:39 PM Eastern Standard Time


    Gosh this guy sounds like me at this party I went to last night. I had 3 beers, so I think I'll be forgiven (or at least excused). Yes, yes, Sunday morning, 20 minutes before work, only on first cup of coffee, and I need to hop in shower NOW. Subway ride home last night I think was the first time I had ever given a subway musician money. I think he had a tuba (big, brass, and he stuck his mouth on one end), and it sounded beautiful. The platform was crowded, there was one str8 couple being all kissey and huggy, but in a cute way; and another couple, two men in nice suits, doing much the same - kissing, affectionate, so sweet to watch. Odd how I wasn't envious, merely enjoying vicariously their freedom to be so relaxed. And those men from Friday night? What are the rules for getting a phone number from a couple? Do you still have to wait the 4-5 days so as not to seem too anxious, and yet interested enough like you do when it's just a single guy's number? And I guess I will have to finally break down and replace the broken answering machine. Not that I'm looking forward to coming home each night looking at the dam red light indicating no calls; but just in case these boys are serious......

    Saturday, November 15, 2003

    Wow. Got in last night at 4am. Wasn't having such a great time at this sexclub for the first 2 hours. But I wound up having a fantastic time which included some serious intense making out, hairy butt in my face, his big fat dick struggling to get in my ass (and him not caring much that it only got in 1/4 the way, at best), giggling and more making out, and conversation and cuddling after cumming. Best part? The hot couple gave me their phone number and want to have me over. The hairy Hispanic of the pair kept teasing me that he wanted to adopt me like a puppy; his partner insists he will get in all the way next time. And they kept telling me how handsome I am! Boy did my frail lil' ego need this!

    Friday, November 14, 2003


    Directed by: Randy Buck (1980's - some sources say 1991)
    Starring: Ed Dinakos and Jake Tanner; plus Wayne Mills (doesn't appear in this scene). This is my favorite scene from this movie - they're out in the desert sharing a beer. Tanner is standing atop some sorta boulder/rock formation as Dinakos is below, slurping from Tanner's sweaty body the beer that is being poured down over his own body as well as Dinakos's. No fucking in the whole film, funny enough, but these men do kiss, and it's very sexy. And the climax really speaks to me - Tanner squatting down hard on Dinakos's mustache. Slurp!

    G'morning. Yup we got a winner - after my second cup of coffee I'll send an email to see if he wants one of the pornovideos. So now I can get the videoclip ready for y'all - but while you're waiting, feel free to check out my auctions - I bought about 2 dozen vintage paperbacks yesterday (and I want to keep most, but can't) like Forced Entry from 1975. And I even have some cheap new underwear for auction. Did you know that eBay doesn't have a category for boxer briefs - you are force to pick either boxers, or briefs. Fascinating, eh?

    Thursday, November 13, 2003

    Working on a few things here, one of which is a pornoclip for y'all. And lest I forget my promises, the first guy (okay, I'll pretend a "gal" might get it) or gal who guesses correctly where this still pic is from - BEFORE I post the clip - will get one of the pornovideos I mentioned a week or two ago in my NOVEMBER PORN GIVEAWAY. It can't hurt to take a stab at it, so e-mail me your guess. Don't know if this will serve as a hint or not, but my BlogDaddies Jocko and Panchesco may not participate.

    Wednesday, November 12, 2003

    (Stevie Wonder/Paul McCartney irritating the back of my head) These gentlemen were kind enough to share thier cockshots back in the summer of 1999; I never got a chance to meet either of them, but one kept trying to impress upon me how BIG his CD collection was. I will admit to a certain amount of envy as far as the photography goes - the way the light hits the flesh is quite good, don't you think?

    I wasn't planning on posting facepics, but this is one of my earliest AOL crushes, and he's just so adorable. My relationship with what's-his-name wasn't quite over, and I was just learning the AOL chatrooms (but believe it or not, never met anyone that way until after our breakup) and how to save files, etc. This boy was down in Louisiana if I remember correctly. If you're still out there, Won2doit, I'm available now!

    Tuesday, November 11, 2003

    48 hours
    Landed at Laguardia Airport Sunday afternoon. Spent the following hour in a cab ride from hell - NEVER get in a cab with a middle-aged white driver. Maybe that sounds bigoted, but these guys always think they know better than you. I've been taking the same simple route from the airport to the lower east side for 2 decades, but somehow he thought I'd enjoy a tour of the Neighborhoods of Queens. Not to mention the underside of the 59th St. Bridge, the slow lane on the FDR, etc. Then, we pull up to my apartment building, and the safety belt won't unbuckle. As I'm struggling, the meter is running until I alert Ace in the front seat that I need assistance. He climbs in the back seat with me, and starts jabbing in the direction of my crotch with his penknife. Nice.

    Later that evening, some very good pals of mine stop by. I was in a panic the previous week about being away from home for a whole 4 days, and one of the reasons was I was gonna miss a fundraiser called Porn Again 4 - which I've gone to the past 2 years and loaded up on bagfuls of videos. Through several very detailed emails and a few phone calls, plus promises of reimbursement for all expenses, they nabbed about 40 tapes for me; much less than previous years, but they did a good job. Now that I have guys working for me to collect porn, am I an official Porn Mogul now?

    Later Sunday night I strolled over to the local sexclub, and after about 20 minutes of checking out the slim pickings, I rested my face in a big guy's crotch. He seemed pleased. I'm not usually that aggressive, but I kinda go with the theory that it's always good to do a little warm-up exercise; and for some reason (it works on me, too) seeing someone actually engaged in sex as opposed to just pacing around the 2 floors make him look much sexier. His faster moaning and forceful hand on the back of my head, pushing my face into his balls led me to believe someone good was cumming. He giggled and winced as I tried kissing various tender parts around the mess he had made. A bit later, another bigguy was in the darkroom in back, but I had had a chance to check out his ass earlier, which was very muscular and hard. It took a while to get into the corner he seemed to be hiding in, but after feasting on his cock, nipples, balls, and armpits, I managed to squeeze my face up behind his balls to taste a very recently worked-out ass. His legs were solid as well, and a bit later, as he did the "I'm gonna cum" pulling out of my mouth motion, I rubbed his big hard belly as he shot all over me. We were both very happy with that. Much much later, 2 really hot guys were at it near me, very Hairy TitanMedia looking, both with trimmed full beards. I watched from a safe distance (close enough to see, far enough not to interfere or ruin their mood). But they never really got going - it was as if still pics of them would have been very sexy, but an actual video of them would have shown disinterest, boredom, and inability to stay focused. Later in the basement, the cuter of the two slowly approached as I was watching some other guys go at it, rubbed my balls for a few seconds, then retreated. When I reached under his leathered up balls, they felt nice but lube-ey. Moving up to his cock, it was classic Noodle Dick. Elongated and limp, obviously too much of whatever drug he was doing, and he just sorta looked around the room as if studying the decor. Enuf of that, I went back upstairs, realized it was late for a Sunday there, and left before depression set in.

    Watched one or two of the videos my pals had bought on my behalf, slept late, and Monday spent a small amount of time sorting thru the vids, then posting a couple (feel free to check out the auctions) on eBay. Got a huge headache, then did the 6 hour work thing. Highlight was the guy popping in around 9:30 for his take-out, a man I'm developing a bit of a crush on (nothing I'll act on, but he seems to dig his weekly few seconds of interaction with me, as well). Couldn't get to sleep last night, watched a few more on the videos - one called Nights of Submission looks like mid 70's, and I can't find ANY info on it! Blah blah blah, and here it is, time for work again (can't tell if the headache is from too much caffeine, too much webtime, or anticipating being at work).

    Still absorbing the wedding/family weekend. It was fine - nothing fantastic, nothing horrible; but glad I went. Still pondering all the bigscareystuff about family relations, my future, men, boyfriends (or lake of, I should say), etc. I promise to have some pretty pictures up tomorrow (yes, cock pics of butch, hot, macho men).


    ....must... stop... going in.... chatrooms!
    Bksampler: "If u got 8cut and ova, strickly masc top, looking for a bottom from bklyn....IM me"

    Not that I know exactly what a "strictly masc top" is looking for, but somehow I doubt he's looking for a bottom who spells "over" O-V-A. Just a hunch.

    Monday, November 10, 2003

    back. on my way to work. later.

    Thursday, November 06, 2003

    Try not to miss me too much, and, uh, er, busy yourself with some Speed Marbles

    Wednesday, November 05, 2003

    I loathe black socks. Another reason for me to freak out is a whole evening stuck in a suit and black socks! (Gee, I hope the tailor fixed the zipper.) So, I got the card - ewww, it's gross - but at least it was the least gross card at the local shop. "Down the aisle, Smiles for miles, He 'I Do' She 'Me, too'; Now a kiss, Picture this, Coming soon, Honeymoon! ----- CONGRATULATIONS"

    But the envelope is lavender, so I'll get to spot it easily on the gift table at the reception and giggle a bit. And then there's the garter belt thing. Talk about Ewwwww! I'm not exactly a prude, but why-o-why is it a tradition for a group of men to gather 'round while a groom reaches up into his new bride's dress to pull something out and fling it at the crowd? Last time I almost witnessed this, I started to flee to the Men's Room, but my Mom stopped me with "Where do you think you're going?" I don't think she'd ever seen me glare at her with such an evil look, and she silently got out of my way and let me go. Lalala. relax, relax.

    Tuesday, November 04, 2003

    Wedding Blues

    I'm in the car with my father and my oldest brother, and they're talking about "the game" or something and suddenly I burst out:"I don't want to go to this wedding, I don't want to be in airports, I don't want to be in a friggin' Catholic Church, I don't know what to say to a woman I've never met who's marrying my brother...." and as I continue blathering, they continue talking about "the game." I supppose my father can be forgiven for ignoring me, he's been dead for several years, and then again, I should forgive my brother, 4 years older than me and 'still single' like me. Oh yeah, then I woke up in a sweat, turned to my hot partner next to me in my bed, and kissed the fluffy pillow passionately and went back to sleep.

    Talking to my Mom several weeks ago (has it been 2 months already?), she told me my brother was getting married. I had already heard through my sisters that he'd been seeing a woman for awhile now, and she seemed nice and all. I haven't met her - I haven't seen anyone in my family in almost 2 years (Xmas 2001). He's been serious about other girlfriends in the past, but at 44, this is the first of them who's shared his desire to get married. So our conversation continued, the whens and hows, etc. Early November wedding, do I have a suit, can I get away from work, all that. As our conversation continued, my Mom mentioned something about the ease of getting his birth certificate, the license for the wedding, etc. I was a bit confused, and something she said cleared it up a bit after I said "What, it's a church wedding?" She laughed in a sort of annoyed manner, in a sort of "my goofy son in New York doesn't seem to know anything about ordinary things" way.

    She continued talking, and I could feel myself getting very anxious, and even a bit angry. It was a peculiar feeling, and it was becoming somewhat overwhelming. I knew enough not to mention it, as I realized it was because it meant going to my brother's wedding would mean spending time inside a Catholic Church. After we said our goodbyes, I layed in bed, trying to figure out how to get out of it.

    Even as I type this now, I am feeling a bit wobbly - the wedding is this Friday, and of course I am going. But back then, I started thinking, MY GOD I CAN'T GO TO A CATHOLIC CHURCH - they hate us! The summer of gay marriage and gay rights and gay gay gay gay gay which seemed to have freaked out a good number of str8 people suddenly was making me freak out. The Vatican's vicious pronouncements, the "protect" marriage Consitutional Amendment, the memories of going to an all-boys Catholic High School that were churned up because of the Harvey Milk School's expansion. And how do I explain this to them? THEM being my family, who is probably like most people - mostly unaware and certainly unconcerned.

    Over the course of the few days following the announcement, I had a chance to talk to several close friends - all gay men (duh). Each understaood what I was going though, and understood why I might want to at the least just not go into the Church for the ceremony. But they all seemed to feel that it would be misunderstood, and perhaps even inapproriate; that even bringing up to my brother or Mom at this point my misgivings would just not get heard, and could come off as self-centered and selfish. They even brought up what I also think is the case - they (str8's) just don't take the Catholic Church as serious as we do. Like political parites, most people simply pick and choose which parts of the belief system that they agree with, and ignore the rest (i.e can you name a Catholic Supreme Court Justice who believes in the death penalty?) this of course didn't make me any happier - it actually made me angrier - why have a wedding in a place that stands for things you don't angree with? Grrrrrrrr! So I just got angrier that folks just prop up these institutions, not paying attention, not caring what's going on, blah blah blah.

    And in the weeks that followed, my anger about the whole Church thing has calmed a bit (I still wish I could fake getting sick just before the ceremony, but I'll behave), but it's turned into misgivings and doubts about my relationship with my family. There's no great disagreements over big life things, and we all love each other, but it's just the distancing over time that is bothering me. And the scarey part is that I don't even know if I want to make an effort to do anything about it. I'm not moving back to the midwest; I don't have the money for visting more than once a year (which now is more like every other year), so I guess it will just be remembering birthdays, occasional phone calls reminiscing about childhood, and then the dreaded death in the family that will temporarily bring us together.

    I realized just the other day that it's been nearly 25 years since me and my marrying-brother have spent more than 10 minutes alone together, engaged in any sort of conversation (and that was after a huge argument he had with Dad, and we went out drinking to discuss how awful Dad was). We know nothing about each other as adults, really, and in 3 days am I supposed to propose a toast to the happy couple? "Here's to the happy couple - a woman I've never met, and a man I've barely had a conversation with in 2-1/2 decades."

    And I don't want to fly, either. It's not the obvious big scarey thing that you might be thinking, somehow I'm practical enough to know how unlikely that is. It's the airports, and having no control over anything about me and my body for several hours that freaks me out. Shoes off, shoes on, 'where'd that tiny screwdriver come from', why is this stranger trying to talk to me, etc.

    And back to the family - I know deep down inside that the next big event is going to be a funeral; and if it's my Mom, who is nearing 70 but in fine health, it'll just kill me. I know this sounds self-centered, but we've become so close over the past few years, becoming such good friends as adults, even traveling to Italy twice together, that I know that my connection to the rest of the family will be gone. I hate all this churning up of my fears and worries. There's no where to go with it, just learn to live with it. I've got about 42 hours to get my act together, pack my hated-suit (I don't hate it, really, because I've gained weight and had to have it altered, but because I haven't had an opportunity to wear it since birthday #39, with the last boyfriend - the damn thing just stares at me and laughs: YOU HAVE NO LIFE!), buy a stupid card to shove an impersonal check into (I haven't a clue what to buy them, and the list for their Registration at the Department store is just so yucky!), get over my selfishness and think about the little nieces and nephews who always make me laugh hysterically. And for Pete's sake, realize that it's not my wedding, fer-cryin-outloud, there's no reason to be so nervous and uptight (and maybe even admit to myself, finally, that perhaps there's just a bit of envy there, too).

    Monday, November 03, 2003

    One two three go!
    Don't ya hate it when one of your neighbors discovers some goofy pop song, and plays it over and over and over again in to the friggin' ground? Well, if you're one of my neighbors, I apologize for playing Hey Ya about 20 times today. But last night, flipping the channels from C-Span to SNL (I have very exciting Saturday nights, what can I say?), I thought I was watching a skit at first. This silly, whacky guy bopping around the stage, with about 6 dancers doing their own silly dances behind and around him. But it was a really catchy, infectious song, and I found myself giggling and laughing while tapping my feet. Of course I did the old search-and-download last night, and then just a short while ago, it was blasting at The Cock, with all sorts of goofy fun people enjoying it.

    Given the mood I've been in lately (serious, man, I was like fuckin' crying listening to I Want A Cookie earlier today) it was a great temporary mood-changer. I need more of that. I have this trip to Chicago this weekend that I am not exactly looking forward to, for several reasons. I tried to jot down some of my thoughts on it, but it just got me more uptight, so I left the apartment at around 2 a.m., and had a couple beers. Nearing 5 a.m. now, I think it's time for a cookie, and some sleep.

    Sunday, November 02, 2003

    Halloween ain't over 'til the Simpsons say it's over.

    Saturday, November 01, 2003