Monday, January 26, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
What I've learned so far
From David I learned that falling in love is the most painful thing you can do.
From Kenton I learned how to cope when you have no control over someone else's shiat.
From Josh I learned not to make out in shrubbery.
From Reid I learned that silence is still an answer to a question even if it's the last one you want.
From Tyler I learned how to negotiate, and to think outside the box(-spring).
From Joseph I learned that you can't make someone ready.
From Sean the first I learned how to hurt someone.
From Andrew I learned that being brave doesn't always get you want no matter how much you think you deserve it.
From Jeff I learned that every song, every verse, every painting that tries to capture the essence of love is a pale imitation, and that when it's destroyed, part of you is gone for good.
From Jeremy I learned not to be surprised when someone goes from amorous to absent in a twelve hour period. Also, that guys are dicks.
From Sean the second I learned that, no, really, you can't make someone ready.
From Bruce I learned that honesty can have surprising consequences.
From Jacob I learned that once you get past the obligatory sexual investigation, gay friendships are possible.
From Michael I learned that if someone is interested they'll let you know and if you're not getting the feedback you want it's because you're not the one they want to give it to.
From Aaron I learned that no matter how cute they are, that feeling in your gut telling you that it would be a laughably bad idea is always right.
From Bo I learned that affection comes from the most unexpected places.
From Joe I learned that good sex exists. And it's awesome.
From Ryan I learned not to make people into what I want them to be in that moment, especially when they're not mine to make.
From Mitchel I learned that no matter how much I seem to have learned I know nothing.
Ok, so I know nothing. Fucking fantastic.
I saw The Reader last night. There was a quarel between the lovers and one asks the other, "What did I do to hurt you?"
And she cooly looks at him and says, "You don't have the power to hurt me. You don't matter enough to hurt me."
Is that not the most cutting thing you've ever heard? I mean, that's ultimately my biggest button (and probably a couple others' as well), not mattering enough to affect someone. It's sick how much we (read: I) need to matter. I can name - and have above, in part - dozens of failed lovers that I think about all the time. Even if it was just an insignificant passing romance I can still recall every nuance of the failure. (In addition, I can still recall our last summer.) Each of them mattered even if I wish they didn't, which is why the notion of being insignificant is more tragic than that of being unwanted. This is why I'm such a big fan of flat out rejection; so much better to be let down gently, or even roughly, so long as the message is clear. Of course, sometimes the message is clear but you don't want to hear it.
Apparently, some people do that...
From Kenton I learned how to cope when you have no control over someone else's shiat.
From Josh I learned not to make out in shrubbery.
From Reid I learned that silence is still an answer to a question even if it's the last one you want.
From Tyler I learned how to negotiate, and to think outside the box(-spring).
From Joseph I learned that you can't make someone ready.
From Sean the first I learned how to hurt someone.
From Andrew I learned that being brave doesn't always get you want no matter how much you think you deserve it.
From Jeff I learned that every song, every verse, every painting that tries to capture the essence of love is a pale imitation, and that when it's destroyed, part of you is gone for good.
From Jeremy I learned not to be surprised when someone goes from amorous to absent in a twelve hour period. Also, that guys are dicks.
From Sean the second I learned that, no, really, you can't make someone ready.
From Bruce I learned that honesty can have surprising consequences.
From Jacob I learned that once you get past the obligatory sexual investigation, gay friendships are possible.
From Michael I learned that if someone is interested they'll let you know and if you're not getting the feedback you want it's because you're not the one they want to give it to.
From Aaron I learned that no matter how cute they are, that feeling in your gut telling you that it would be a laughably bad idea is always right.
From Bo I learned that affection comes from the most unexpected places.
From Joe I learned that good sex exists. And it's awesome.
From Ryan I learned not to make people into what I want them to be in that moment, especially when they're not mine to make.
From Mitchel I learned that no matter how much I seem to have learned I know nothing.
Ok, so I know nothing. Fucking fantastic.
I saw The Reader last night. There was a quarel between the lovers and one asks the other, "What did I do to hurt you?"
And she cooly looks at him and says, "You don't have the power to hurt me. You don't matter enough to hurt me."
Is that not the most cutting thing you've ever heard? I mean, that's ultimately my biggest button (and probably a couple others' as well), not mattering enough to affect someone. It's sick how much we (read: I) need to matter. I can name - and have above, in part - dozens of failed lovers that I think about all the time. Even if it was just an insignificant passing romance I can still recall every nuance of the failure. (In addition, I can still recall our last summer.) Each of them mattered even if I wish they didn't, which is why the notion of being insignificant is more tragic than that of being unwanted. This is why I'm such a big fan of flat out rejection; so much better to be let down gently, or even roughly, so long as the message is clear. Of course, sometimes the message is clear but you don't want to hear it.
Apparently, some people do that...
Monday, January 12, 2009
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
It seems so simple, perhaps because it's so prevalent in the celluloid. Two actors on a screen with eyes locked, gazing lovingly, completely unaware that they are surrounded by some six billion others. That look is so intense, so private. Sometimes there would be the sweet, almost-corny-but-for-its-sincerity smile of infatuation or the stony intensity of passion so all-consuming that to break that gaze would be to die.
And yet, that's exactly what the boy did, this boy that sat across from him and the moment was done. It was an ill-fated moment that began with the best of intentions but devolved not long after its inception because of the boy's, and also his own, inability to hold the stare. It started as that blissful tension that comes before you kiss for the first time, if not the first time ever than after a substantial distance, sometimes all the more meaningful for the time elapsed. A hand - or even a toe - wanders closer, lightly touching, giving little hints that could be mad flirtation or nothing more than an innocent graze if, God forbid, the other person did not respond. Then, thankfully, fingers entwine and you find this most mundane body part inexplicably fascinating. Hands, for the most part, are not that different from one another; veins, joints, nails. But when you touch a new one for the first time...heaven.
Their hands lacing, knees began to slide, legs opening and then closing, wrapping around the other's waist like roots, holding them there, in place, facing one another. Eyes met, his searching his companion's for depth or understanding or any sign that this was organic and correct. And there it was, that movie star moment, as though they'd been frozen. Hairsprayed. Maximum hold. Then the boy cocked his eyebrow and he felt his own respond in kind. Damnit. The movie was done, the reel having caught fire and shriveled as this sign of innocent mockery was exchanged. Not mockery at each other (the rest of the night would prove this) but rather a sign that they were not a silver screen couple, that this intimacy was too much, perhaps just too soon, but in either case unsustainable. His companion, this boy, eyebrow still raised, pursed his lips like the star of a blaxploitation film and then looked away with a grin, and then finally foolishly leaned in for the kiss. It was lovely, always had been, but it was hardly Klimt. Hell, it was barely Sex & the City. Still, it felt good and as they walked to the bed, he was content. The Gables and Lombards were excellent fantasies, but he hadn't seen a true example thus far and was exhausted from looking. He was tired and this would do fine. His lips would burn the same the next morning, the smell of the boys hair still wafting off of his fingers well into the next afternoon.
And yet, that's exactly what the boy did, this boy that sat across from him and the moment was done. It was an ill-fated moment that began with the best of intentions but devolved not long after its inception because of the boy's, and also his own, inability to hold the stare. It started as that blissful tension that comes before you kiss for the first time, if not the first time ever than after a substantial distance, sometimes all the more meaningful for the time elapsed. A hand - or even a toe - wanders closer, lightly touching, giving little hints that could be mad flirtation or nothing more than an innocent graze if, God forbid, the other person did not respond. Then, thankfully, fingers entwine and you find this most mundane body part inexplicably fascinating. Hands, for the most part, are not that different from one another; veins, joints, nails. But when you touch a new one for the first time...heaven.
Their hands lacing, knees began to slide, legs opening and then closing, wrapping around the other's waist like roots, holding them there, in place, facing one another. Eyes met, his searching his companion's for depth or understanding or any sign that this was organic and correct. And there it was, that movie star moment, as though they'd been frozen. Hairsprayed. Maximum hold. Then the boy cocked his eyebrow and he felt his own respond in kind. Damnit. The movie was done, the reel having caught fire and shriveled as this sign of innocent mockery was exchanged. Not mockery at each other (the rest of the night would prove this) but rather a sign that they were not a silver screen couple, that this intimacy was too much, perhaps just too soon, but in either case unsustainable. His companion, this boy, eyebrow still raised, pursed his lips like the star of a blaxploitation film and then looked away with a grin, and then finally foolishly leaned in for the kiss. It was lovely, always had been, but it was hardly Klimt. Hell, it was barely Sex & the City. Still, it felt good and as they walked to the bed, he was content. The Gables and Lombards were excellent fantasies, but he hadn't seen a true example thus far and was exhausted from looking. He was tired and this would do fine. His lips would burn the same the next morning, the smell of the boys hair still wafting off of his fingers well into the next afternoon.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
2 Reasons why I love my work and 1 why I hate it.
Let's get the negative nelly (and I'm not) reason out of the way first. Guess who I haven't seen in three weeks. Yeah, that's right. This guy. WTF, mate? I'm sitting at reception for the next three weeks, 'cept one of the Thursdays is Xmas and the other is New Years Day and after that I am unemployed, so way to suck, Tightpants, and yeah, I realize that he'll just come on another day of the week and I'll see him then but I didn't think of that when I started this rant so just shut up.
*Goes to time out chair*
...
*Comes back*
Oh, hai. I'm better.
So the two good things!
I. Internet Security
As with most (if not all) places of employment, there is a filter placed on websites that the corporate lackey may peruse. My work blocks the basic biggies like Facebook and Youtube, but also any personal e-mail accounts and streaming media. In layman's terms, these laymen are hardcore. The reason for the blocking always flashes across the screen, like "Sex" or "Offensive Material". The other day I was surfing around and came across some Top 10 list of Things That Would Distract David At Work hosted by the website cracked.com . It was blocked, which was not a huge deal, but you wanna know the banner that flashed on the screen as the reason for the filter? "Tasteless". I just thought that this was hilarious, as if a utilities company was a proper Victorian lady who had had her high tea ruined by her guest's farting Welsh terrier.
II. Goodie Day
Yesterday was Goodie Day at work. I was not a stranger to the concept of the corporate potluck, as it happened several time during my tenure with the government, but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. By the end of Wednesday, a grand total of 11 out of the 40 employees had signed up to bring various items of varying degrees of interest from veggies & dip (psssh) to Amish friendship bread (hate the baker, love the bread). I brought my steadily-increasing-in-street-cred chocolate chip cookies (I predict that they will become so adored that I shall overtake Famous Amos. Spackle a 'V' on that shiat, yo).
Was there any way of knowing into what strange wonderland I would be walking the next day? No, there was not. It turns out that signing up what you were to bring was just for n00bs so the entire lunch room was packed with edibles.
Now, the government, not the classiest place. David at the government? Even less classy. On one particular Food Day, I forgot about it completely so I ran across and bought two large Greek salads at the shiatty food court just so I could participate. They were barely touched as everyone was too busy with the sludgey 7-layer dip, coca-cola chicken wings, two-bite brownies (one-bite for the fatty in the mail room) and sticks of butter the other employees had brought. Homemade! My current job though...o...m...g...
TOP 5 DISHES
(Don't you hate it when they put #1 first? No? Just me then.)
5. That Veggie Platter I Just Bashed - uh, yeah, that shit was awesome. I thought it was totally going to be one of those moldy Safeway platters, but it had really good quality stuff. Fresh cukes, bell peppers, grape tomatoes. It was brought'en.
4. Homemade Spinach Dip with Crazy-Ass Herb Crackers - Put the 'crack' in crackers.
3.Skor Bar Bars - I was so impressed with these only to discover that it was just Saltines coated in caramel and topped with chocolate and Skor bits. Whatever. I had 4.
2. Piazza De Nardi Chocolate Zuccotto - The fact that someone brought pretty much the best dessert you can buy in this city should tell you why I am so glad to be working at this place. The fact that I was pretty much the only one with the good sense to have any should tell you why I am so glad that it's temporary.
1. Baked Brie - Not, like, a little round about 4 inches in diameter. We're talking a round roughly the size of a dinner plate. $25, easy. And like the zuccotto before it, barely anyone touched it, which allowed me to not only suckle at its creamy teat all day, but also the following two mornings on bagels. You know, just so that they knew that they were Chanukah chocolate chip cookies.
Let's get the negative nelly (and I'm not) reason out of the way first. Guess who I haven't seen in three weeks. Yeah, that's right. This guy. WTF, mate? I'm sitting at reception for the next three weeks, 'cept one of the Thursdays is Xmas and the other is New Years Day and after that I am unemployed, so way to suck, Tightpants, and yeah, I realize that he'll just come on another day of the week and I'll see him then but I didn't think of that when I started this rant so just shut up.
*Goes to time out chair*
...
*Comes back*
Oh, hai. I'm better.
So the two good things!
I. Internet Security
As with most (if not all) places of employment, there is a filter placed on websites that the corporate lackey may peruse. My work blocks the basic biggies like Facebook and Youtube, but also any personal e-mail accounts and streaming media. In layman's terms, these laymen are hardcore. The reason for the blocking always flashes across the screen, like "Sex" or "Offensive Material". The other day I was surfing around and came across some Top 10 list of Things That Would Distract David At Work hosted by the website cracked.com . It was blocked, which was not a huge deal, but you wanna know the banner that flashed on the screen as the reason for the filter? "Tasteless". I just thought that this was hilarious, as if a utilities company was a proper Victorian lady who had had her high tea ruined by her guest's farting Welsh terrier.
II. Goodie Day
Yesterday was Goodie Day at work. I was not a stranger to the concept of the corporate potluck, as it happened several time during my tenure with the government, but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. By the end of Wednesday, a grand total of 11 out of the 40 employees had signed up to bring various items of varying degrees of interest from veggies & dip (psssh) to Amish friendship bread (hate the baker, love the bread). I brought my steadily-increasing-in-street-cred chocolate chip cookies (I predict that they will become so adored that I shall overtake Famous Amos. Spackle a 'V' on that shiat, yo).
Was there any way of knowing into what strange wonderland I would be walking the next day? No, there was not. It turns out that signing up what you were to bring was just for n00bs so the entire lunch room was packed with edibles.
Now, the government, not the classiest place. David at the government? Even less classy. On one particular Food Day, I forgot about it completely so I ran across and bought two large Greek salads at the shiatty food court just so I could participate. They were barely touched as everyone was too busy with the sludgey 7-layer dip, coca-cola chicken wings, two-bite brownies (one-bite for the fatty in the mail room) and sticks of butter the other employees had brought. Homemade! My current job though...o...m...g...
TOP 5 DISHES
(Don't you hate it when they put #1 first? No? Just me then.)
5. That Veggie Platter I Just Bashed - uh, yeah, that shit was awesome. I thought it was totally going to be one of those moldy Safeway platters, but it had really good quality stuff. Fresh cukes, bell peppers, grape tomatoes. It was brought'en.
4. Homemade Spinach Dip with Crazy-Ass Herb Crackers - Put the 'crack' in crackers.
3.Skor Bar Bars - I was so impressed with these only to discover that it was just Saltines coated in caramel and topped with chocolate and Skor bits. Whatever. I had 4.
2. Piazza De Nardi Chocolate Zuccotto - The fact that someone brought pretty much the best dessert you can buy in this city should tell you why I am so glad to be working at this place. The fact that I was pretty much the only one with the good sense to have any should tell you why I am so glad that it's temporary.
1. Baked Brie - Not, like, a little round about 4 inches in diameter. We're talking a round roughly the size of a dinner plate. $25, easy. And like the zuccotto before it, barely anyone touched it, which allowed me to not only suckle at its creamy teat all day, but also the following two mornings on bagels. You know, just so that they knew that they were Chanukah chocolate chip cookies.
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