Thick dreams

I didn't take Tylenol PM this morning when I got home from work. Sleep came quickly and easily even though I napped on the 40-or-so minute bus ride home from work. When I take the PM, I often wake to damp sheets or at least a moist pillowcase. There's something about it that makes me sweat in my sleep; also, my mouth hangs open and saliva runs in rivulets from pillowcase to top sheet. It sounds disgusting, and it is. Taking Tylenol PM also increases the need for laundering my 1000TC Egyptian cotton sheets. So I didn't take it this morning.
I wish I had.
I woke up around 6pm. That's early in my world. Its about two hours earlier than usual. My dreams were still crawling around in my head. There was a man holding a ferret with near-transluscent skin. He had on black leather gloves. He inserted two of his fingers into the squirming mammal's mouth and slowly forced them down its throat. His gloved fingers were visible through the struggling animal's skin. He must be wearing the gloves so he doesn't feel the ferret bites, I thought. I was so angry at that man. I was close enough to him to see fine details like the gold thread stitching on his gloves, but I was so far away that even if I ran at him he could get away. So I dream screamed at him. It was near-primal and completely silent.
The fact that I couldn't make sound only angered me more, and it was around that time that I woke up.
So that dream sat on my shoulders. Made my back hurt more. Made me edgy and gave me that feeling that there was something I had to do. Or something that I started that I needed to finish.
Like all of my dreams, I know its source. I know the ferret that demands some clinician/mafioso to probe it while it squirms. I know that my screams have been largely silent. Most of all, I know that I will do my best to ignore my subconscious mind until these squirmy feelings go away.


Whose line is it anyway?

Just for fun, here are some of my favorite movie quotes.
"I used to fuck guys like you in prison." -- Road House, 1989
"Is that your face or did your neck throw up?" -- Dazed and Confused, 1993
"Its a--Its a jellyfish." -- Rushmore, 1998
"I just . . . I hate you and I hate your ass face!" -- Waiting for Guffman, 1996
"Reminds me of home, without the choppers." -- Ticks, 1993
"You blow it tonight, girl, and its keggers with kids all next year." -- Heathers, 1989
"The heart is an organ of fire. I love that. I believe that." -- The English Patient, 1996
"Oh is that how you do it? Backwards." -- Chain Reaction, 1996
"Yes, yes, and proud we are of all of them." -- The Big Lebowski, 1998
"You don't think I'm smart enough to work in your fucking library?" -- Party Girl, 1995


Oh, please!

Don't even front! You hardly even noticed that I hadn't posted in a while. Most of you are just curious about my next mix and when I'm going to put more music in my top secret download spot just for you.
Well, for your information, I do have a lot of music to (slowly) post to my top secret download spot. You guys have been burning through my monthly allotment of GBs. And the next mix is (even more slowly) coming together. It starts off with a remix of that
Lady Sovereign track. You know, the one at the beginning of your favorite show, Girls Behaving Badly, and features the always amusing antics of Missy Elliot.
But, come on! Give a brother a breather! I've been OCCUPIED! There is a life away from the keyboard.
This past weekend was Risa and
Keith's wedding. In case you haven't been keeping up, I officiated the ceremony. The feeling of the entire thing was amazing, but my performance, I must say, could have been better. The ceremony, when I practiced it at home, took around 15 minutes. On the actual day, I think I burned through it in around 7 minutes. Score one for brevity!
Aside from that, the venue was great. The food was amazing--Kobe beef, pistachio encrusted ling-cod, bacon wrapped steak--I think there were at least ten entrees from which to choose. And Risa looked absolutely STUNNING!!! I'm sure I'll have pictures soon enough.
I can't believe that I've known Risa for 12 years. I can't even begin to tell you the sets of circumstances that led her to meet Keith (Montana, Poland, New York, Denver), or how a guy from Denton, TX who went to school at Texas A&M met a teacher at a clown party. Hell, I can barely even relate the story of how I chose to move to Montana after growing up in Fort Worth, TX only to decide that Seattle was the place I wanted to live.
So, I married them. They are now Mr. and Mrs. Keith Harris as result of my ordination.
I didn't allow Phil to come to the ceremony. I know, it was completely silly, but I just didn't want him there for that. Our
hotel was right across the street and I ran across to get him before dinner was served. He was still privy to the open bar, so I'm sure that suited him well, if not better.
When I booked the hotel room, I was a poor bachelor. What care I, I reasoned, if I should share a bathroom--there is no need for privacy! Then, I went and found myself a dude and, I suddenly saw the need of a private bath. The front desk replied to my urgent request with a disheartening no, but after I arrived, the adorable front desk clerk informed me that he might, indeed, have a deluxe room.
I was so taken with the room's design that I forgot to tip him for his trouble. (Read: I was so taken aback with the cost of having one's own restroom that I deemed tipping an out-of-the-question expense.) The upgrade, however, was worth it.
Here's Phil's camera phone's picture of it.

In case you can't tell, that's the shower head behind a pane of glass with the head of the bed located directly on the other side. Um, it was kinda hot. Ok, it was totally hot.

Sunday we saw
Ghost Rider (avoid at all costs, read Phil's review here). Then I went home and crashed. When I awoke, I hauled ass to the hill to meet up with Bill. We went to the Re-Bar and shook our asses. It was really, really nice. I haven't danced in a really long time, and I got to see a bunch of the old crew. The music isn't exactly the sound I'm into right now, but it worked.

Monday I had brunch with the ever-effervescent
Janice. And, Christ Almighty, you can get off my back now. I might update more frequently; I might be taking some much deserved time off.

How have you been? What have you been up to?



Yes, I was made uncomfortable by a certain candy bar's Super Bowl ad. Trust me, I get the whole argument that advertisers can pander to whichever retarded demographic they're trying to nail. Freedom of speech or some shit.
I ask you, though. If the commercial had depicted two secular humanists who accidentally pray then do something like pee on a Bible to counteract said prayer, wouldn't the Bible beaters be up in arms?
If the commercial had been two white guys who accidentally smoke crack who then have to do something white to counteract their black behavior like play hockey, wouldn't the black community be up in arms?
Yes, my examples are far fetched and concede to ludicrous stereotypes but so was that commercial.
What angered me even more was their response to me:

Feedback from our target consumers has been positive. In
addition, many media and website commentators of this year's Super Bowl
commercial line-up ranked the commercial among this year's top ten best. USA
Today ranked it #9 of its top ten pick.We know that humor is highly subjective
and understand that some people may have found the ad offensive. Clearly
that was not our intent. Consequently, we do not plan to continue to air
the ad on television or on our TITTERS Brand website.

I hate that there is NO apology in their response. Their response is like, "Oh, you didn't find it funny? Then you're not our target demographic. Other people, people who are smarter than you and who are not as easily offended as you found it very amusing." Its just smacks of condescension.
They knew what they were getting into long before it was aired--and they banked on the backlash, too. That's why I haven't come right out and named them because the last thing they need is more free publicity.


Now, man

Phil, Bill, Andrew, and I hit up the Nauman opening at the Henry on Friday. The collection is on loan from Christie's and its looks great. Just the fact that it is neon makes it seem more relevant--and playful. Phil and I arrived a little on the late side (thanks, #48 bus!) but we still hand enough time to power through the exhibit.
Neon is totally cool.
Alternately blinking, neon flacid/erect penises are totally awesome.
Free beer and wine? Art is, like, rad.
Free food? Aww, man, we arrived too late to partake.
The world's prettiest man still works at the
Peter Miller bookstore (which I always want to call the Henry Miller bookstore).
Final analysis: Besides the four of us, not nearly as many hot guys as the
Maya Lin opening (I think that show had more architecture student crossover). Also, will need to return at a later date to enjoy the show.


If its a fight they want

Blech. Forget about posterity and any legacy of fighting the good fight--how does this Initiative 957 thing affect me? That's a great question. I can't help but feel the weight of irony slowly crushing me. First of all, this is the type of retaliatory legislation that I love. It satisfies my all of my passive aggresive urges. Basically, I-957 would only grant marriage to couples who want to and eventually do have have children. Marriages that did not produce offspring would dissolve.
I know, it sounds completely ludicrous (and it is), but I-957 was created in response to the state Supreme Court ruling last July (around the time of my birthday).
In a 5-4 ruling, the court decided that gay unions do not constitute a marriage because they are not for the purpose of procreation. If I recall correctly, that was only one point of three major points for the decision. I digress. Because of that ruling, I decided to become ordained. If myself and other gays were denied the right to marry, I reasoned, I should at least have the legal right to marry two straight people. Silly, I realize, but part of me wanted to illustrate how broad religion is and how its intersection with law is close to arbitrary--how this is really a matter of people with a specific belief system oppressing a minority group. Y'know, I wanted to make it about me.
RisaandKeith and I had joked around with me officiating their ceremony, and then one day, I was able to. I had to acquiesce. I mean, it would be my first wedding. So, in less than two weeks, I'll be asking Risa if she accepts Keith as her husband and Keith if he accepts Risa as his wife.
I've been mulling over everything that I'll be saying. The welcome will be lighter fare. The ceremony will be much more serious with a few places for smiles. I'll try my best to not cry. Then a toast which will have some of the best material that I've been pulling from the other parts because I've been afraid of being too offensive. And, finally, I'll sing "Cheek to Cheek" for their first dance.
Then I can relax. Got a hot guy to dance with (who will, under no circumstances, be around for the ceremony). Got a nice hotel room. Got a smile just thinking about it.
The following Monday, I'll be singing with the chorus on the steps of the state capital to pressure the legislature to follow the justices' recommendation of taking the fight to people.
Then I'll be asking everyone I know to sign the initiative. I'll tell them how completely ridiculous the judges ruling was and how equally ridiculous this initiative is, but how it points out the flawed logic of a disingenuous (and election season jaded, I might add) court.
224,000 signatures are needed by July 6, 2007--my birthday.
See? It is all about me, and I'm ready to fight.