Worlds & Time

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Car Accident

So I was sitting watching the State of the Union tonight, and it finishes, and not more than two or three minutes later, I hear this screech and crash outside. I think of this post and so I go running out there.

The first car I see is totaled. Not just damaged, it's smashed to bits. The second is going to need some framework on the side, but it's not so bad. I check to make sure that everyone is okay. The woman in the badly damaged green car says that she's okay. They other guy got hit in the side, but he's walking. I check to see if he's bleeding. He's not, and it's probably to early to see a bruise.

So I get some of the big pieces out of the way of the other cars, and check to make sure the others have called an ambulance. Then I go back to the woman. She's upset, she knows the accident was her fault. I ask her to turn off the car and sit there. There's antifreeze leaking out and covering the entire area, and everything is getting slick.

Finally she mentions that she's having problems seeing, because she can't find her glasses. She gets out and I search through the car, but I can't find them anywhere.

Sometime around now I notice that the windshield is cracked.

Anyway, the paramedics get there and the police. They block off the street, and I find out that the cars were on the other side of the intersection when they hit. I mean, they were thrown 40 feet or more away during the collision. Wow.

And suddenly I understand the urge to become a paramedic. My little brother has it. Piper has it. Josh had it, although he's more into the cutting up of corpses these days.

I heard a horn from outside just now. Sounds like the firetruck is leaving now. And Scrubs is on.

Except for this entry, I'd probably never think of this accident again.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Gay Geekiness

I am truly a gay geek.

I mean, heaven forbid that there is a gay man out there that doesn't like fashion or hairstyling, but my big thing is geekiness. If I had the money, I'd play lots of computer games, and Dungeons and Dragons. Not Magic though. I don't know why, but Magic is crossing the line.

The problem is . . . how can you meet other gay geeks? I only know one, and he's sort of seeing someone.

Have you ever heard of Soce, the Elemental Wizard? That's someone that I can respect. Someone that revels in their geekiness and gets play for it, which only makes me want to move back to the big city and pretend to be something that I'm not.

Hehehe, and everything that culture is tells me that's a bad thing. "You shouldn't be someone that you're not!" I can hear them yelling in my head. But we all do it, and sometimes pretending to be someone is who you are. You think all of the guys in clubs have a problem with struting around half naked when most of them are either terrified or being in groups or terrified of being alone?

Besides, they ability to pretend to be something that you're not can really shape you for the better. I'm not a person that can work out at a gym, but pretending could certainly set me straight. I'm not even the best GM in the world, but pretending allows me to run a game.

Anyway, back to the gay geekiness. That I'm not giving up. No matter who else I am at the moment, I like at least one of those two aspects. So who am I really? Probably the gay geek over in the corner with his dice.


Incidentally, if anyone knows any cute gay AF Jock boys that like geeks . . . give them my number right now.

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Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Tag

So Wikipedia is a wonderful thing. I happened to be cruising their list of gay porn stars-which is oddly comprehensive, although most don't have articles-when I came across an entry for Tag Eriksson.

He's a millionaire Swede that works as a NYC real estate broker. He's vice president of his firm, and a published author and Information Technology guru. He's even started a business, Humany, which provides Tech Customer service (in-sourcing, basically, if I understand correctly).

The most surprising thing is that he's fairly open about who he is and what he's done. An article about him suggests that his parents know about his film career, and he's appeared on the cover of a Swedish magazine that profiles famous Swedes, and his book is about his short career in the porn industry (it's in Swedish, or I already would have bought a copy).

He's actually gay, also. He currently lives with his boyfriend in NYC. This has got to be the second most surprising thing, considering that the guys that I usually like turn out to be straight (even the ones that work in gay porn or I find in gay clubs).

I mean, wow. That's amazing. Crap, I mean, I can't help but feel inspired by that.

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Sunday, January 15, 2006

Sick

I've been really sick for a few days. Yesterday I left a message for my little brother to buy me some Dayquil.

I get a call back from his roommate, Piper, asking why I'm trying to reach him and I explain that I want some Dayquil so that I can go to work.

About thirty minutes later, Piper, my little brother, and Ezra all show up at my door with a Barbie bag of gifts. They got me an economy size box of Dayquil, tissues, a huge bar of chocolate and a pair of super-bright orange socks that are fuzzy and soft.

There was also a card that reads: "I remember once when I was feeling down, a friend of mine slapped me in the face and said, 'Pull yourself together and take charge of your life because if anyone's a winner, you are.'" On the inside it says "We no longer speak."

It was the high point of my week. I mean, talk about really amazing.

Thanks a bunch Piper, Matt and Ezra.

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Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Another One of those Questionaires

I decided to do this one because Brokeback is still the last movie i saw. How shallow am I?

WHAT IS THE MOST PHYSICAL PAIN YOU HAVE EVER BEEN IN?

When I run. . . I'm need to get back into shape.

DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE GUM WITH YOU?

Nope.

ARE YOU GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BI?

Gaaaaaaaaaay.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE A GOOD KISSER?

That's an unfair question. I need a lot more practice.

WOULD YOU SEVER YOUR OWN PINKY FINGER WITH A KNIFE FOR 10 MILLION DOLLARS?

Definately not.

DO YOU THINK MIDGETS ARE CREEPY?

Not really.

WHAT IS YOUR DRUG OF CHOICE?

A Nitrogen/Oxygen mixture.

BIG TRUCKS, LUXURY CARS, MOTOR CYCLES, OR FAST CARS?

Somewhere between Luxury Cars and Fast Cars.

WHAT KIND OF SUNGLASSES DO YOU WEAR?

My 'lil bro's Oakleys.

DOES YOUR LOCAL WATER TASTE GOOD?

Not in ABQ it doesn't.

WHAT KIND OF PC DO YOU HAVE?

Dude, I've got a Dell. (Damn he's cute. You know he's in a gay theater show, right?)

WHAT IS/WAS YOUR FAVORITE SCHOOL LUNCH?

Nothing. It was all gross.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BREAKFAST FOOD?

Uh . . . what's breakfast?

WHAT IS THE OLDEST ITEM IN YOUR HOUSE?

Probably the furniture. This is an old apartment, and it came fully furnished.

HAVE YOU EVER UNDERGONE SURGERY?

Yes, when I was a baby.

WHEN YOU STUB YOUR TOE OR BUMP YOUR HEAD, WHAT DO YOU SAY?

I glare in silence, usually.

DO YOU ENJOY MAKING PEOPLE FEEL STUPID?

Only one kind of people. Never bring me to church with you.

WOULD YOU RATHER SKY DIVE OR BUNGEE JUMP?

Sky Dive, definitely.

BEER?

Uh, once again, none. I go for more fruity alcohols.

ARE YOU RACIST?

Uh, not really. I don't think so.

LIBERAL, CONSERVATIVE, OR NEITHER?

Liberal all the way, baby.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PART OF YOUR BODY?

I'm gay, what kind of question is that? The naughty bits, of course, although I don't have them named.

ARE YOU STILL THINKING ABOUT THE MIDGET QUESTION?

What midget question? I'm still thinking about the body part question.

IF AN ENTIRE STATE IN AMERICA WERE TO VANISH, WHICH DO YOU THINK WOULD NOT BE MISSED?

Honestly? Alaska. Which would I prefer? Texas.

HAVE YOU EVER FLUSHED A DECEASED PET DOWN THE TOILET?

Not personally

WHO ARE BETTER DRIVERS, MEN OR WOMEN?

Uh, race car drivers.

ARE YOU SEXIST?

Yes. Men suck. Or, at least I'd prefer that they do.

DO YOU KNOW YOUR SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER OFF THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD?

After two colleges? You bet.

DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE SAYING "OFF THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD" ORIGINATED?

Not off the top of my head.

ERA OYU DYXLESIC?

Onpe.

-RIGHT NOW-
last kiss:
Crap . . . Miami? No . . . The Pulse . . . so about a year now, maybe a little more.

last good cry:
After Brokeback Mountain.

last movie seen:
Brokeback Mountain. And it was damn good too.

last cuss word uttered:
Sheol.

last beverage drank:
V8 Splash Berry Blend. Can anyone name anything gayer? (White wine doesn't count)

last food consumed:
Fetticine Alfredo. And before that, mini-wheats.

last crush:
On someone that I actually know? I don't remember. Probably fairly recently. They all run together after a while.

last time showered:
A few hours ago.

last cd played:
A CD that I just bought that i can't remember the name of. It's electronica.

last annoyance:
Radio commercials.

last disappointment:
How much I hurt after running.

last soda drank:
A Shirley Temple.

last thing written:
Aside from this? A short story about the seamier side of divinity.

last words spoken:
An ancient invocation of death and life. (Actually, I can't remember.)

last time amused:
Crap, I don't remember. Probably earlier online sometime.

last time wanting to die
A couple of months ago.

last time in love:
J. But it wasn't reciprocated.

last time hugged:
It happens a lot.

I LOVE:
Boys, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Dragons, words, and fun.

I HATE:
A few people that will remain nameless, such as Justin (not the guy at work, he's cool). Also my work ethic.

I FEAR:
Very little. My mother's death.

I HOPE:
That I'll find a good boy and a good job that i love.

I FEEL:
Tired and at peace.

I HIDE:
My name.

I DRIVE:
a Toyota to work and around town.

I WISH:
I wish for a lot. I don't hope for it though.

I MISS:
MIF and Rochester.

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Work

So the post before last was a love letter to work, and this is pretty much the exact opposite.

Being tied to a job that's weekend nights sucks worse than anything. Being tied to a job that breeds isolation is phenomenally poor planning on my part. I like work. I like being with the people there. But I don't see people outside of work, almost ever, not because I don't want to but because most of the time I'm simply out of time. Working an eight hour night shift is not eight hours, it's sixteen, because you have to sleep sometime, and people assume that because you want to sleep occasionally, you aren't interested in being with them.

Not to mention the hours that it takes to adapt every day to the night schedule. Most people understand that mornings are personal time for people, but my mornings are prime time. So when I need some time to myself, I'm violating the standards of society.

I'm going to applying for other jobs because I need another job to save up for Miami, and I was reading the classified ads. Just a moment ago I was reading an article about how suicidal people should take up sky diving because, heck, they've decided to die anyway, so why be afraid of death?

And at that point I remembered my dream job. Not the Miami Hotel job. That's actually secondary, because it's stable and potentially sedentary. No, my dream job is the traveller . . .

I don't have any business skills, so rather, I figure that it needs to be connected to hotels. So the job? It's secret shopping hotels. Crap, I'd kill for a job like that. Give me fifty weeks on the road every year. I wouldn't have to worry about the studio apartment, or never having enough time to work on my book, because I'd be the equivilent of sky diving, living without a net. It's not like I get out living here . . . but that job would be living on the front lines all of the time. Crap, knowing me I'd even start dating or something.

That would be life.

But do real people actually get those jobs? I think I'd need my MBA.

Well, crap.

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Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Brokeback

I'm still crying a bit. A real good friend had to drive back, even though we'd brought my car.

I read, or more accurately Ashley read to me, the short story and I kinda liked it. The movie was exceedingly faithful to the short story, and it was infinitely and exponentially better. It was brought alive, and I thought knowing the end would help me cope but it didn't.

I get headaches when I cry. Probably something to do with gasping for air. Just a dull one right now, somewhere behind the temple on the right mostly, so I don't really care, but it was worth it.

I really didn't like Heath Ledger coming into this movie. I'd only seen a few things by him, and I wasn't really impressed. I left in love with Twist, crushing on Jake, but my estimation of Ledger is way up.

Way, way up.

I'm also having trouble reconciling the movie to my understanding of the world. I would like to find someone that I can have a connection with, but I don't know if I can deal with that pain in the end.

So, would I like to be Jack or Ennis? I don't know. I won't ever, and the chance will probably never present itself, but I'd like to find something similar to Brokeback. A place where I can find pain and love and fear and hate and everything. Someone.

But I can't let it destroy me either.

I'm going to flop over and sleep now, I think, rather than doing anything else. This was New Year's Eve to me, really. Not because of some revelation, but because of the celebration.

But I still should watch Big Eden so that a sad gay movie gets followed by a happy one. Maybe tomorrow morning.

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