June 2007

Resonate

Talkative

After a productive week for personal projects and feeling nicely domestic in my place, I'm feeling all social and chipper today. While I normally do my work without much socialization, today I'm all, "Hi, I'm Damon. What's your name? Let's be friends." I talked with three female co-workers about bra fitting locations for sizeable breastules. I boldly asked a male co-worker about his poly-relationship. I chit-chatted with the pint-sized temp who is always smiling and asked her how you pronounce Uyen (when). I made small talk with the CFO in the kitchen and just kept socializing my way through the day. Fortunately the day is just about over because I'm starting to feel the temptation to start talking to the plastic plants in the lobby.

Pink Prank Project

Anyone going out of town soon?

// my personal research assistant: Valette //

Driven to Cook

Monday night the power was out at my apartment for over an hour. What was I to do without the internets to keep me company or a dvd to distract me from the darkened gloom? I actually resorted to dusting and cleaning up the kitchen. I know. Ghastly.

In cleaning up I discovered a bunch of favorite recipes that had been hidden away for the last year. While I have been cooking when at Michael and Mike's, I think I may have cooked twice in my SF apartment. I have however, mastered the art of heating up frozen meals and finding fun new restaurants to try.

Last night I made tasty Taco Soup. Tonight I'm making Stuffed Hamburger Cabbage Buns for my men in my very own kitchen. We'll see if the world ends or something because I'm actually doing a bit of cooking. But never fear. I'm sure this new addiction to cooking won't last. I'm way too addicted to things like chatting, digital art projects and flirting with the men in my neighborhood to waste my time being healthy.

Self Kiss

What if one could give oneself a kiss? (click the current photo to advance to the next)

// my personal research assistant: Valette //

I Ain't So Proud

So my first Pride ever was rather disappointing. I'm thinking that I didn't choose well when it came to events. Friday night Mike, Michael and I were convinced into attending a uniform/leather ball which turned out to be in a grand ballroom with a huge classic swing band. The space and music was actually great, but having about 100+ guys walking around this classy, well-lit place in fetish wear just made the whole thing far too surreal. And I'm not talking about the kind of surrealism that finds itself on the wall of a museum. I'm talking about the kind of surrealism that makes a serial killer cuddle with his blood-stained, headless teddy bear while saying things like "mommy likes it when I'm a good boy."

Saturday evening the three of us decided to check out the infamous Pink Party in the Castro. Beyond the lesbians peeing on the street in front of my apartment, the throngs of drugged out hets whose "best friend is gay," and the complete inability to formulate a thought over the chaotic roar of the crowd... it was amazing. Amazingly horrific that is. I lasted all of 10 minutes before the rending of flesh from bone ensued.

Later Saturday we decided to hit "the big dance" of the weekend. It's odd how a dance can feel so much like one giant commercial advertisement seared directly into your synaptic pathways. I still haven't been able to get that "kill the prime minister of Malaysia" voice out of my head. For additional money - because the $50 entrance fee wasn't enough - you can be one of the cool crowd and hang out in one of the specially reserved spaces for people who want to feel elite. Apparently elite people get chairs. Who knew. Even more exciting were the white, female, rapper djs shouting out bad rhymes which defied all attempts at dancing.

I didn't make it to the parade on Sunday because I was a drama duty as well as just so tired of the crowds. Did you know that the number of people in the city more than doubles during Pride? Next year I've decided to approach Pride differently: I find out where every last big event is taking place and then avoid those areas at all costs. Either that or I'm getting an IV drip of valium to wheel around with me.

Lucid

Lunch Just Doesn't Pay

I was invited out to lunch today by my supervisor and several other people from work. While my consultant/hourly-wage self doesn't normal take lunches, I thought it'd be fun to socialize a bit. What I neglected to factor in was that everyone else going is salaried and was planning to steal every last out-of-work minute as they could because, hey, they're getting paid for it anyway. I on the other hand was not. I returned to the office 2.5 unpaid hrs later pissed because all I got for that income loss was the privilege of hanging out with three bitchy queens and their two fag hags. As if I weren't going to get enough of that this weekend anyway.

Queers Converge

So it's gay Pride this weekend. This'll be my first Pride event anywhere and I'll be experiencing it at homo ground zero: San Francisco. Anyone wanna take bets on how long it takes before Damon passes out from all the queentosterone and butchtrogen that will be overtaking the city?

Splish-Splash

There once was a wave. This wave consumed a man crouching on a beach. A cameraman captured this event seconds before becoming engulfed in the wave himself. Now the only thing the camera will say to the forlorn cameraman is "Err 99." Now he must reply upon the Canon gods to heal his broken camera and return it to him whole once again.

That's So Not Me

Brood (n) <'brüd>: to meditate with morbid persistence

Smelly Reputation

I love me some essential oils aromatherapy crap. I have various concoctions like "immune support," "meditative mood," "joy," and "anxiety release" which I sprinkle around my cubicle each day to try to find a zen space in the midst of my 10 hr work days. The scents of my addiction are starting to draw more and more people who come to my desk just to take in a few whiffs of tranquility before continuing on with their day. So evidently I'm now in charge of accounts payable as well as providing an herbal spa service for the entire company. The seaweed wrap is at 3pm, bring your own towel.

Associations

On Sunday I sat in the audience for a dance recital for a 5 year old girl while entertaining her baby sister. I was wondering why I have so quickly become connected to these two little girls (and their moms) when I remembered how much I enjoyed helping my mom take care of my two sisters as they grew up. As I sat watching the one dance her heart out and holding the other in my lap I remembered those early years with my sisters. I kissed the baby girl on the head and I cried tears of joy as I thanked God for the years I had with Melissa.

What'd You Do This Weekend?

Cushy camping, sunbathing, friends, new drink concoctions, birthday celebrations, baby unicorn dancers in recital, playing uncle Damon, chocolate dipped waffle cones, lots of time with one of my bfs and the return of the other who was away far too long. These are some of the things that make for an utterly delightful weekend.

The Topsy Turvy Bus

Anyone wanna get me one of these for Christmas?

Procrastination Woes

Why'd I have to be so good about getting caught up on my regular work? Cuz, see, now all I have left to do are a bunch of messy projects that have no urgency and are high on the annoyance thermometer. I've rather enjoyed letting those projects sit in a drawer feeling completely neglected and forgotten. Now they are gleefully begging for my attention and all I can think is, "maybe I could spend the rest of the day rearranging my paper clips."

Mer-Queens

Yesterday 5 adult-ish people sat around brainstorming all kinds of fabulous ideas for a little girl's birthday while she found catching lady bugs much more fascinating than all that boring planning.

The mermaid theme will be at a pool with sea-like decorations, a little mermaid cake, and oceanic party favors. In a grand display the sea king will give a speech about the treasures locked away in the chest at the bottom of the pool then dive in to open the chest allowing these goody-filled bags to float to the surface for each child present. Once the pool fun is complete two mer-men will carry the 5 year old guest of honor on her throne through the pool and up to the cake to blow out her candles. Sounds pretty fun huh? I'd enjoy it if I were a 5 year old. Heck, I'd enjoy it if I were a 35 year old.

Yesterday 3 grown men ran around the party store squealing with glee as we grabbed all the pink, princessy, mermaidesque, sea-like accessories for the affair. I'm nearly positive that we're all having more fun with this than any the kids will. In fact, I'm probably looking forward to the event more than the soon-to-be 5 year old, but she can just bite me cuz this is (evidently) my mermaid party too. Now where's my tiara?