Category: My Other Sites

Shopping

 

Got up early. Went to yard sales with my Mom and Aunt Norma (who lives next door). We hit the grocery store later (Harris Teeter) and I bought provisions to bring back to California. My dad and I drove to Reidsville for the 50th anniversary celebration of a barbecue joint there, and I realized that my camera was dead. Late in the afternoon, my cousin’s wife dropped by with a loaner camera for me, God bless her.

Later in the evening, I popped into Border’s for a few last-minute anniversary presents. I usually don’t shop at this hotbed of union-busting, but there was noplace else open. The place was packed. Greensboro must be getting more literate.

The Annivesary

This was the actual anniversary day, but the celebration was scheduled for Sunday, so we really didn’t do much of anything except have lunch at an overpriced restaurant which was way too pretentious for Greensboro (or me). It was pretty, though.

Dinner at the K&W Cafeteria. They didn’t have chicken pie. I was disappointed.

Off to North Carolina

 

My parents have been married for fifty years. That’s longer than I’ve been alive. And yes, I do realize the irony of that statement. I also realize that some people may not find it ironic at all.

Anyway, I ventured home for the big occasion. There was a lot on the agenda this trip, both scheduled events, training Mom on her new iMac, and my desire to talk with Mom and Dad about what my next home town should be, San Francisco no longer being an option. It was not a relaxing vacation.

I didn’t sleep at all the night before, probably because I was sacred I wouldn’t wake up in time for my obscenely early flight. Therefore, I was a little cranky and tired all day. Not being able to smoke on the cramped plane didn’t help either. And food? What food? I didn’t eat anything significant until I hit the Burger King in the Saint Louis airport for a week-old Whopper. Extra points, though, to Saint Louis for having convenient and plentiful smoking rooms.

Mom and Dad met me at the Raleigh airport (the one I imagine Andy and Opie used to fly to Hollwood). We took a shuttle to the next county where they had to park and headed for Greensboro by way of the Apple House Cafeteria in Burlington (in the mall formerly known as Holly Hill). I was in bed by 11.

Love and Hate

Love my Planet SOMA family. No less than five people pointed me to this article in Salon today, knowing that it would be right up my alley given its familiar theme.

I’m finally ‘fessing up about Road Trip 99 now. Firstly, it’s been downgraded to Plane Trip 99 and will pretty much involve nothing much but North Carolina. Unfortunately, I have neither the time nor the money to spend my customary three or four weeks on the road this year. So off I go on TWA, to spend some quality time with Mom and Dad on their 50th anniversary.

But that’s not for a couple of weeks.

For now, I’m just excited that it rained last night. It’s almost November. The rainy season is almost here. My mood should improve considerably. Yes, I’m a freak. Yes, I’ve considered moving to Seattle because of the rain rather than in spite of it. Yes, sunshine depresses me as a rule.

Things I love this week:

  • “All in the Family” marathon on Nick-at-Nite.
  • Stouffer’s Macaroni and Beef with Tomatoes (on sale at Safeway).
  • The parking space I got last night at 7th and Bryant, right across from the police station.

Things I hate this week:

  • Perpetual construction.
  • Those stupid commercials for SF Propositions I and J, with the over-acting ambulance drivers and the insipid screaming woman.
  • The idiots in the building next door.

9 August 1999


Four or five stories above the crest of Nob Hill. Photo credit Sarah.

My mom has email.

Somehow I knew this day would come, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for it. This must be sort of how it felt for her when I learned to drive. OK, maybe not quite that extreme. Of course, the big and pressing question is how she’ll deal with this site when she lands here. It’s not like I do drugs or deal in kiddie porn or anything, but the self-revelation (and the language) might be a bit much. All in all, though, Mom’s pretty sane. I think she’ll deal.

More about the weekend soon (as Sarah has the first crack at posting certain pictures of certain celebrities), but here are the highlights:

I spent Friday afternoon doing recreational web browsing, which is something I almost never do anymore. In the process, I found current pictures of one of my high school lust victims as well as re-connecting with an old friend from college. I also ran across names of members of my family on someone’s geneaology page. That was a little creepy. And no, I’m not giving you the addresses. So there.

Saturday afternoon brought a Star Trek convention (more about that later) and a strange case of lust, which I’m still at loss to explain so I won’t right now. Thus I ventured out to the neighborhood watering holes Saturday night, which proved as much of a mistake as going out on Saturday night ever is.

Now it’s Sunday. I’m watching something really stupid on the Disney Channel. It’s time for bed. More babbling of substance, along with accompanying pictures, coming soon.

Visit from Duncan

Duncan’s come and gone now. We didn’t go to Fresno. This is probably a good thing, both for us and for Fresno…

Big highlights included dinner at Tad’s (which won’t be an option on his next visit), a visit to some friends in Sunnyvale (which is more fun than it sounds like), and one of our famous long, aimless drives (this one involving San Francisco to Oakland via the San Mateo Bridge).

On Friday night, we hit “Butt Pirates of the Carribean” at Josie’s Cabaret and Juice Joint. I can’t recommend this highly enough (and I won’t try ‘cuz it’s late and I’m sleepy).

 

And tonight was the down home dinner for five at my house. While I’ve never claimed to be particularly “butch”, I’ve occasionally been accused of it… generally by those who have never watched me prepare dinner for several people.

Tonight marked my first experimental attempt at entertaining since I found myself living alone. Maybe that explains the hyperactive Martha Stewart mode I went into this weekend. I vacuumed. I cleaned the toilet. I mopped the kitchen floor. I baked a cake. From scratch. And that was all on the day BEFORE my dinner guests were to arrive.

The background is thus: my friend Duncan was visiting from Charlotte. I thought a little dinner would be a nice way for him to meet some of my friends here, as well a get a chance to hang out with some people we both know. Of course, I went hardcore into my Mom imitation. It wasn’t a hard mode to get into. I’ve found myself getting frighteningly domestic lately anyway.

 

So I baked a cake. And cooked a pork roast. And made a pot of collards. Since Duncan doesn’t like collards, I made squash too. And biscuits (OK…I used the canned kind…). And iced tea. Sarah brought macaroni and cheese. Dan brought salad. And with everything spread out in the kitchen, it was frighteningly reminiscent of the big extended family dinners my mom throws for me when I come home. The only things missing were the congealed salad and the devilled eggs. And a dining room table…

I broke out the sputnik cake plates and the cool toothpick dispenser given to me by Bob in Indianapolis. I cut lemons and made extra ice. And after dinner (this is the clencher) we watched HOME MOVIES. I fussed and cooked and cleaned and I coudn’t possibly have enjoyed it more.

 

And then, when it was over, I washed every single damned dish before I could go to bed. At 1AM, my kitchen was spotless. What’s happening to me?

Now it’s back to Charlotte for Duncan and back to the boring day to day for me (and presumably for the rest of the aforementioned cast members).

And no, I still haven’t gotten around to the email…

An Actual Enjoyable Weekend

 

Well, shut my mouth!

For the first time in recent memory, I went out on a Saturday night and actually had good time. Regulars will know that Saturday night (a/k/a “amateur night”) is usually my least favorite night to go out in the neighborhood, or just about anyplace else. On Saturday nights, every bar in the world is populated by drunk idiots from the ‘burbs, circuit queens from hell, etc.

Tonight was different, though. The losers must have gone someplace else for the night. I ran into friends, got cruised quite heavily on mulitiple occasions, and even had not one but two enjoyable bits of oral copulation. There’s something quite mystical about having a cute 22-year-old on his knees looking up longingly at you.

All in all, it’s been a pretty good weekend, although I spent most of it at home working on a Mother’s Day video for my mom. Yes, I am aware that today is Mother’s Day, and yes, it is going to be delivered late. Mom is comfortable with this.

Had a great Friday night with Sarah, featuring dinner at Tad’s (which may or may not be closing, but look for a review in a few days) and dessert at David’s Delicatessen. Point of interest: Harold’s International Newsstand (Geary at Taylor) may be San Francisco’s best boy-watching bet of the week on Friday nights.

And we met the San Francisco Twins! They even agreed to appear in my Mother’s Day video. San Franciscans in the know will understand what a major coup this is. I’ll explain it to the rest of you later.

And one of my design babies (in this case a re-design) went live today too. Go visit, and tell your Cruisemaster how spiffy it looks. He spent a long night uploading last night.

I’m going to bed now, before I have a chance to lose this rare good mood.

Sunday Nights

I hate Sunday nights.

Since I have to be up on at a reasonable hour on Monday mornings, I have to go to sleep at a reasonable hour on Sunday nights. And, of course, the minute I turn off the lights and try to go to sleep, I find myself wide awake and worrying. Worrying about everything I should have been dealing with during the day. Worrying about everything in my life which bothers me.

And there’s a lot bothering me…

I’m worried that I’m merely coasting along in life, not accomplishing much of anything on a personal or a professional level. I’m worried that I live in a pretty expensive apartment (by the standards of most of the country) in an outrageously expensive city and that I’m just one step ahead of the bills. I’m worried that I don’t seem to be doing much about this situation.

I’m worried that my parents are getting older and that their only son lives three thousand miles away and only sees them once a year or so. I’m worried that my relationship with my mom or my dad could end unexpectedly with one phone call in the middle of the night.

I’m worried that my bad habits may catch up with me soon. I’m worried about becoming a big fat slob. I’m worried that I don’t go out or hang out with friends like I used to, and that lately I can’t even manage the simple task of anwering email messages from people who went to the effort to compliment my site or whatever.

I’m worried that I function just fine on a day-to-day basis, but that the weeks pile up and I realize I haven’t really DONE much of anything. I haven’t found a purpose or a vocation in life. I haven’t bought new furniture for the apartment. I haven’t started than book I’m going to write nor that new program I’m going to learn. I haven’t fixed the sideview mirror of my car nor made those two phone calls to old friends I need to make. Et cetera.

I’ll wake up on Monday morning (in about six hours to be specific) and I’ll feel fine, if a bit sleepy. And the whole cycle will start over. Before I know it, another week will have passed.

And I’ll still hate Sunday nights. Sorry if this was a bit of a downer.

9 April 1999

Hallelujah! McDonald’s has added sexual orientation to its non-dicrimination policy. Now queers have the right to cook really vile-tasting fast food for five bucks an hour. I’d imagine domestic partner benefits aren’t an issue. Does Master Ronald even OFFER benefits to his plantation workers? Maybe just to the overseers…

Maybe they need a visit from Michael Moore and crew. Yer humble host is most excited about his new show, The Awful Truth, which starts this weekend on Bravo. Michael Moore rules the universe as I currently see it. Among the planned excursions on the show: Michael drives a van full of sodomites through states which still have sodomy laws, videotaping the felonies they commit therein.

Beats hell out of another Friends re-run, huh?

In other breaking news, I’ve managed (thanks to Dan) to obtain something I’ve been wanting for a long time: an original Charles Chips cannister. For those of you who have no clue what a Charles Chip might be, this was a company which used to do weekly home delivery of potato chips. Yes, it sounds as strange to me as it does to you.

My aunt next door got Charles Chips delivered. Most of my other neighbors did too. I always felt a little inadequate as a child because we never had one of these cans in my house. Mom and Dad boughts Lay’s at Winn-Dixie instead.

But now I have one. My life is almost complete.

The Streets of San Francisco

Yer humble host has now managed to collect a grand total of 93 episodes of “The Streets of San Francisco” on tape. Should make for a strange weekend-long marathon party. Ot at least for an interesting page of video captures soon.

Thanks to Mark for lunch yesterday, and to Jay for the amazing Chick-fil-A calendar (with coupons yet). More thanks to Grant for the 1972-era urban planning textbook aimed at third graders (look for copyright infringements soon on this page).

While I’m at it, post-Christmas thanks to Mom and Dad for the care package which included two boxes of Count Chocula. Thanks to Sarah for the cool Sid and Marty Kroft book and to Dan for the Quisp T-shirt. Am I forgetting anyone?

By the way, you too could be mentioned here. Just give me cool stuff. I have no ethics.

Here’s today’s link du jour. They didn’t give me anything.