Absolutely brilliant.

How was your visit to Texas?

Oh, thanks so much for asking! I have been trying so hard to repress all memories of the weekend. Acutally, I think the jello, tequila and jaegermeister shots effectively wiped all hugely damaging and embarrassing memories from my mind.
Of course, I forgot to pack my camera. So there are no pics of the nieces or of the wild Memorial Day party.
So, with that being said, I arrived on Thursday to be hijacked by my parents. It was my niece's birthday. Not one of the fun nieces, mind you, but the one with the crazy parents. My half-brother and his wife are much closer to fundamentalism than my parents and my half-brother has even been known to circulate anti-gay e-mails. I have never officially "come out" to him because he is much older than I am and we have never had much of a relationship. My mother has let his wife know that I smoke pole, and I am more than certain that she passed this information along to him. He looks at me with eyes of sadness (and mild contempt). Eyes that question, "How could you choose this lifestyle." I look at him with eyes of sadness (and mild contempt). Eyes that ask, "For someone who is so heavily schooled, how can you be so uneducated?" Of course, he went to the fundamentalist college masquerading as a governement college. When he walked across the stage for graduation, he shook Ronald Reagan's hand. From that moment on there was probably no hope for him (even if the hazing aroused in him feelings of confusion).
Its funny how I, for whatever reason, cling to the hope that education will defeat ignorance--when it is increasingly clear that people are getting dumber.
So Friday, hit up the old mall with the old mom. She's doing pretty well with her hugely misshapen ankle. I was surprised she didn't ask to sit down more. My parents are getting old. My father turns 70 next year. My mother likes to tell me how much everything has changed. Like maybe I didn't notice the huge super Wal-mart, Albertson's and CVS on a corner where before there had only been fields. She also likes to tell me how jeans today look dirty, as in not clean.
Oh, a word of advice, do not expect to be helped by Clinique salespeople. They may make an ok product, but they really don't want to sell it to you. Maybe Texan Clinique saleswomen are just intimidated by bearded dudes.
Ate some amazing Mexican food. That was nice since the only Mexican food I eat in Seattle is completely bastardized or highly provincial. You know its a good restaurant when all of the patrons are a minimum of 40lbs. overweight.
Played toll road with the nieces. Not to be confused w/ Towleroad, but equally as gay. The game consists of them running around the couch and me requiring some form of toll. Generally an object within reaching distance. Sometimes, money from grandpa.

Saw tons of people from high school who I thought I would never see again. Some of them were people who, in my mind, were still 13 or 14, but they are all strangely grown and married with kids. Saw a kid who was a freshman when I was a senior. He lived in Bozeman where I went to college. We knew some of the same people. The world folds in on itself in a place like Texas.

It was unbearably hot.

Was flying stand-by and got stuck in first for the return trip. Total bummer. I was plied w/ food and alcohol, and finally started my journey through David Mitchell's newest. If Mitchell has left you cold with his obsession for structural arrangements in the past, you can easily leave all of that behind w/ this novel. It is the perfect summer book and has fit into my as-of-late nostalgic mood with its 80's England setting.

So, yeah. That was my trip.

Can you imagine how excited I was when I came home and found a 3hour mix by Michael Mayer and Superpitcher?

Things are finally starting to seem routine. Reading on the bus. Getting up at the same time. Stuff like that. So time to expect more frequent posting. Like an entire post on WoW. God. I. Love. That. Game.

Keeping you entertained

Since I'm out for the next five days, thought I'd leave you with some fun stuff.

All about Amy

1st Letterman appearance


At the New Orleans Jazz Festival




And, finally, my boyfriend and my girlfriend all in one clip


But you want music. The majority of my hits come from people lookin' for the raddest choons out there.
So, I'll direct you to this stellar mix by M.A.N.D.Y. from No Soap Radio on May 15th of this year.

And if you're still hungry for music, hopefully you've been checkin' Sean's site cuz he has a new mix up, too. As always, its great. More Rex Monday, please--and Fearless Kitchen, too, for that matter.

Well, I'll have my plane book to read while on vacay, so expect a full (glowing) review of it upon my return. Take care, everyone, and have a great Memorial Day.

Sometimes we need nostalgia

Last Thursday I got to see Andy Warhol's "Lonesome Cowboys" at Northwest Film Forum. It was brought to town by Three Dollar Bill Cinema in a series examining "queer desire in the Wild West." It was a little long, but that was to be expected. Truthfully, I thought it was hilarious and its a shame that the Warhol Foundation hasn't commited this film to video yet. Joe Dallesandro looked unreal at times, and cracked out at others. And the other lead, with shaggy red hair and a killer tan got my "queer desire" stirring.

Seeing a film like this--and recently I've been doing the whole "60's Underground cinema" thing at home--really reminds me of what it was like making videos when I was a kid (and to some extent in film school). The neighbor kids and I got together, wore our parents clothes and made a murder mystery. All of the suspects and even the detective died. "Who could have killed everyone," I queried as I breathed my last breaths. "The cameraman did." Then the cameraman (rather, woman) turned the camera on herself and said, "Cheese!" Or something.
Then there was the film where I donned sparkly red roller skates and toiled away in a workshop, creating an android. And, of course, there was the video we made for INXS's "I Was Standing, You Were There." Warhol's film had the same sort of slapdash feel to it and it made me nostalgic. Of course, there was considerably less sex and drug use in my forays into video.

Thursday night at work, I downloaded this track by Joakim. I've enjoyed all of Joakim's tracks that I've heard--especially his remix of Poni Hoax's "Budapest." I like the rock-y feel--the fuzzy hi-hats and his willingness to end a track in a sea of noise. When "I Wish You Were Gone" (the track above) began, I couldn't help but think of this track. Thank god we live in a world where my every whim can be satisfied nearly instantaneously. I downloaded "Only You" by the Yaz and my journey down Nostalgia Avenue continued. "Only You" is a song that makes me acutely aware of my age and my single-ness. It is also a song that can make tears well in my eyes. The synth counterpoints kill me, not to mention Ms. Moyet's unique voice.

This track got me to thinking of other songs from my youth which affect me as deeply. My late-twenties jadedness became pretty apparent. The only other song I could come up with was this one. Jimmy Somerville's voice, like Moyet's, is pretty gender-bending and very unique. From these two tracks, its pretty easy to trace the trajectory of my musical proclivities.

I thought I had gotten all of that nostalgia out of my system, but on Saturday Netflix sent me Parting Glances. Netflix has been screwing with my perception of reality lately (see previous post). Parting Glances has "Smalltown Boy" by Bronski Beat in it. It is not a great film by any stretch of the imagination, but I think it is one of those gay films that all gays should see. It was made in 1986 and touches on issues with which our community still struggles. There are some moments of clarity in the film and a great deal of compassion, but ultimately, it falls victim to muddled direction. The film's director, Bill Sherwood, died of complications due to AIDS in 1990.

All this nostalgia made me realize how far I have come, how far I have left to go, and how I am grateful for the touchstones in my life.

The surrogates

I feel so lucky to have a friend like Risa whose family always includes me in their holidays. In many ways, my relationship with them is more idyllic than that with my own. Their expectations for me are much lower, and, as a result, I seldom let them down. If I'm not at an event, that's fine. If I am, even better. This family, unlike my own, does not bristle when I do something outlandish, like show my pink underwear at the Thanksgiving table. They laugh and encourage and take pictures.
So this Mother's Day, I dutifully called my own mother, then promptly headed over to Lynnie and Joyce's. As you can see from the pictures, the weather here has been abysmal. My normally nearly-transluscent skin now has a pink-to-redish tint.

Hmm I thought I uploaded more pictures . . .
Anyway, this is Risa's grandmother whom I adore.


When she walks, her shoulders bend foward toward one another, and her hips jut out in front of her. She uses one hand to supprt her lower back and has a gait somewhere between a shuffle and shamble.

So that was Sunday.
The previous night, there was a shooting at the QFC on 15th and 85th. The wounded fled to a house that is . . . right next door to me.
This was the scene-

The excitement never ends.

Tomorrow (or soon thereafter) a music post.

Also, as for the turning 30 thing, GayProf said, "30 is the new 20" to which I reply, "God, I hope not."

Steve 1 turned 30 in March and he said, "I don't feel any different" to which I replied, "Well, don't you think that maybe you should?"

Oh, and I'll be in TX over Memorial Day weekend. Get to see the nieces--see, there are moments of pure happiness w/ the real fam.

So maybe we can meet up Adam!

Oh yeah, and one quick last thing that I thought was trippy and synchronistic and shizz.

So I on Friday I watched Prick Up Your Ears. Then on Jeopardy! that night one of the clues referenced "Entertaining Mr. Sloan." Trippy, huh?

Oh, if you're not following, Prick Up Your Ears (which you should *totally* watch) is about Joe Orton who wrote "Entertaining Mr. Sloan."

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What we talk about when we talk about art

I turn off a lot. This weekend, I was cat-sitting for Kelley and I had made great plans, but I unintentionally left my phone at home and rather than going to get it, I turned myself off. I pet the cat. I slept in the most comfortable bed in the world. I watched a lame teen movie.
I read Raymond Carver.

I shouldn't read Carver he makes failure and miscommunication and angst swim in my head, but I can't take my eyes off the page. I was reading a story about a couple whose marriage is disintigrating and in a pivotal scene, their cat enters with a dead bird in its mouth. It seems heavy-handed when I write it down--like if I had written the story it would have been a dead dove or lovebird or something. With Carver, though, you feel the couple's hearts breaking and it is simultaneously balanced with their newfound detachment.

I took that detachment and have run with it--all the way until today. I'll probably hold onto it through tomorrow. Friday night I have an obligation, but for whatever reason, I don't want to go. I don't want to see anyone. I don't want to talk to anyone. Thank you, Raymond Carver.

Oh, like I said, my first theater review is up on Seattlest.

Writing for them is strange. They want quantity out of us. Length of post doesn't really matter. I never get feedback from the editor--and people rarely comment, so I never even know if what I'm writing is coherent.

So 30 is looming. I think that has a lot to do with all of the unsettlement or dissettleness or unquietude or disquietment I feel. I mean, aren't I supposed to have equity by now? How much further behind the curve am I from an average 30 year-old? Is anyone actually going to come to Peru with me? At one point, the count was 9, but now the numbers are dwindling. I know, age ain't nothin' but a number, and you're only as old as you think you are and all that stuff, but I feel like I should feel older. So I'm growing my beard again.

Oh, and for all you Battlestar Galactica fans--here's an artist mimicking Matt Groening doing character interpretations from the show. Absolutely brilliant. [via Jimbo.info]

Love in the afternoon

I don't know why I titled my post "Love in the Afternoon." Well, I sort of do. I remember when I was a kid and home sick or over summer break and watching ABC soaps with my mom, the promos all had this cheesy-ass song that sang "Looove in the after-nooon," and for some reason that song is bouncing around in my head.
Oh, and this is it for me, no more apologies for not posting more frequently. To say that I'm still adjusting would be accurate, but I have also told myself that if I don't incorporate the blog into my new routine, it will never become, well, routine.
This week, however, has been crazier than most. I was awake well over 27 hours yesterday because I had to attend a Photoshop seminar after work. Then I bussed hom, hit the hay for a total of five hours and returned to work. Yuck. Then it was home, sleep for 6 hours and off to the premiere of Miss Witherspoon at ACT Theater.
Tonight marks my debut as theater critic and I couldn't have picked a better play to begin my career.
You can check out my full review tomorrow on Seattlest. For now, though, I'll just relate an interesting piece of information I uncovered while researching the play.
Miss Witherspoon, along with two other plays, was shortlisted for the Pulitzer for Drama. None of the plays won. In fact, no play won. I think that's kinda shitty, don't you? I mean, the Pulitzer for Fiction this year went to the well-researched crappily executed piece of pap, March, so obviously the standards for the Pulitzer aren't that high.

Anyway, enough with that.
So I'm gonna do some blogpimping now.
I actually ganked the term blogpimping from The Sean Show, the first place I'm going to direct you. (I don't know if he coined the term, but whatevs).
First of all, dude is dreamy. Like never wake up, dreamy. (That's him on the far left.)
Secondly, he put out a mix that, to me, sounds so quintessentially DC. Like if Scott Henry were still on my radar, I imagine he would be playing a set like this (except there'd be a Green Velvet track).

Next site I'm going to direct you to is Tom Coates' site.
He pretty much rocks. His design aesthetic is the best I've seen.
Plus, he has a really great take on Cyclops from the X-Men.
Also, he's in the trenches of the digital revolution and often has links to the latest and greatest on these here interwebs.

And, finally, I would like you to read this letter to President Bush from the CEO of my company. Damn, I work for a cool company. Did I mention I'm learning Mandarin, as well?

Talk to you real soon, k?

What's that you say? You're sad to see me go so soon. All right then, one quick pic and an accompanying story.
Below is one of my fave underwear models from UnderGear (get a catalog if you don't already). He is smokin'--and not just his body either, its those smoldering eyes and that amazing lantern-jaw. Yum.
Um. Ok, where was I?
Oh yeah, imagine my surprise when I found video of him on the John Malkovich Clothing site. I'd post a direct link, but the whole site is Flash-y, so I'll just give you directions. Go to tees then click on his picture. Enjoy your day!