Sparky’s Visit

Sparky was in and out pretty fast, but it was a nice visit which allowed time for dinner with Jessie at Brain Wash (nothing but the best for me and my friends) and a quick tour of the formerly sleazy South of Market nightlife…

And we even got to talk some…

I love the new South of Market bus routes. The 12-Folsom now runs twice as often AND closer to my house. But best of all, no one seems to know it yet. I caught one in front of the Ferry Building at 3:00 this afternoon and had the whole thing to myself all the way home. Talk about leg room…

I shan’t even discuss this weekend’s creepy February weather, where it was considerably warmer than it usually is in the middle of the summer. Wait, I guess I just did…

Rick, 1982

 

Funny how you remember certain bits of sex many years later. Today, I’m remembering one from nineteen years ago. Nineteen years ago today, as it happens.

His name was Rick and he was 25. He was in a fraternity at UNCG and was, of course, wearing a T-shirt from said organization when we met, in a men’s room at Four Seasons Mall in Greensboro. I was 17, and that was one of my few options at the time, the others being the men’s rooms in Belk’s, Penney’s, and Ivey’s. I imagine he had other options but chose not to use any of them.

It was not nasty pig sex (although it was quite entertaining) and it wasn’t even the first time I’d picked someone up in a restroom. But it was sort of a first for me: the first time I picked up someone, went to his house, actually had sex in an actual bed, and then had an actual conversation afterward.

I was so excited. I even took his picture. I imagine this really gave him the creeps; a lovesick 17-year-old taking snapshots after we’d just committed numerous felonies, most of which would be unfairly blamed on him. This may have figured into why he didn’t show up for our next “date” the following Sunday afternoon. I was rather unhappy for the next week.

I saw him again once about a year later, when I too was a student at UNCG. He nodded. That was it. By that time, I had other things on my mind and it didn’t bother me so much. He’d be 44 now, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be much interested in a replay. But I still think about that run-in and how exciting it was at the time.

Y’know, this whole “reflective about sex and romance thing” is most likely going someplace, but it ain’t going there tonight. It’s time for dinner…

In the Mood

I’m in a strange mood. Not really a bad mood. Just a strange mood…

I think I need to have a nice little quickie affair. Not marriage, but something semi-romantic that I could get a little excited about. Random anonymous sex won’t quite do this time around, although I probably wouldn’t rule it out if the right boy should miraculously appear at my front door tonight…

Jeez, I even had a slightly lovey-dovey sex dream last night. That doesn’t happen very often, and even this time I didn’t remember I’d had it until I was standing next to the guy this afternoon at work. That was a little disorienting. And I don’t really even have what could be described as a “crush” on this guy. I barely even know him, although I wouldn’t really refuse him a little bedtime action…

Maybe it was the spring weather last weekend. Or maybe I’m just going through puberty…

Clean Inbox

InBox

It’s nice to have an inbox that looks like this. I’m finally getting caught up. If you’re waiting for an email reposnse from me and havent gotten it yet, it means one of the following:

  • I shamefully waited so long to answer that I now assume you no longer care (so please correct me if I’m wrong…)
  • I somehow missed you (so please try again…)
  • You’re one of the seven names above and you should be covered tonight (so please hold…)
  • You asked me where to find a good gym, circuit party, or drug connection and I decided to spare your feelings (so please be grateful…)

Thanks loads for your patience…

Surfing

This needs to be at the top of the page too (and not because of the occasional Planet SOMA references). More new links here

With email now more or less caught up (and with work on hold pending some feedback), I spent an evening wandering around random personal sites tonight. Which is something I rarely do anymore, ambivalent as I’ve become toward spending long periods of time in front of a computer monitor. I sort of miss doing this…

I even sent email to some of the nice boys and girls whose sites I visited, which is something I do even less. Wow. I made first contact. It’s kind of nice being on the other end of that transaction for a change…

At any rate, it stopped me from continuing with those numerous babbling hourly updates from earlier tonight

Which may or may not signal a stabilized mood…

Duncan’s Coming

Duncan arrives tomorrow night for a weekend visit. It will be nice to have an extra sense of humor in the house…

He’s arriving just in time for predictions of perhaps the coldest, wettest, most miserable weekend of the winter so far. Snow flurries may even be a slight possibility in the Berkeley Hills and Twin Peaks. Jeez…

Yes, I realize that a significant number of you might kill for highs in the 40s and 50s and snow predictions which are little more than a curiosity. I don’t care. I’m still cold..

Asshole Coworker

There’s this guy I work with. No, he’s not the one I had the sex dream about. He’s just a garden variety asshole…

I wonder how people like him manage to function in society. He’s over 30, but he still gives off bratty, sullen teenager vibes more convincingly than most bratty, sullen teenagers. He’s whiny. He has the same “that’s not fair” complex most of us grew out of at 16. This is not just Peter Pan Syndrome; he literally never grew up…

And to top it off, he’s probably the rudest, most inconsiderate person I have ever known. He slams into people and excuses himself grudgingly (if at all). He assumes that everyone’s food, newspapers, whatever, are community property, without waiting for an invitation (or even asking, most of the time). He can’t even be bothered to step out of the way when he sees you walking down the corridor carrying something heavy. And God forbid he should offer to help…

He’s always the first in line for (more than) his share when someone brings in doughnuts, burritos, or whatever, and he has, of course, never brought it anything himself. It goes without saying that he’s less than stellar in his job performance, and defensive when criticized…

Did I mention that he takes things? And that he gets really pissy when you call him on it? Yeah, probably…

The thing that really baffles me is that he manages to be employed or to have friends at all…

This is one case where I really have to blame the parents. It’s a no-brainer to deduce that he was raised by fairly well-off parents with such a blinding commitment to “self-esteem” and “self-expression” that they neglected to teach him the social skills, discipline, and sense of responsibility which might have ALLOWED him to express himself effectively. I can imagine that he’s never written a thank you note in his life.

And you can be sure his self-esteem will eventually suffer for it…

Duncan’s Not Coming

Looks like no Duncan this weekend. As a consolation prize, I have new rugs. Lots of new rugs. For some reason, there are thousands and thousands of rugs on sale at Long’s Drugs on Broadway in Oakland. I don’t really understand why…

By the way, I’m 36 1/2 today. I haven’t celebrated half birthdays since I was about 8, but Ron’s actual full birthday was this week, and I’ll not be upstaged, dammit…

By the way, for those of you keeping score, today was the first day that The Other Stream’s front page had more hits than Planet SOMA’s