12:35 p.m. - March 21, 2004
-
Greetings from Norfolk and I must pay attention to my keying; back from a bar witha group of people taking my training, no not a group here with me now, but by myself having left them back at the bar. That is clear. I had too much to drink, more than my limit of 2 beers and not even the 3 or 3 walk block back to the hotel cleared my head 100 percent. I'm having a great time here; the presentation went well so there's a nod to ye olde Powerpoint gussied up with a few video and audio clips, but I have to credit Virginians - when they're on, they're on italicized. Great group of teachers today and afterwards met up for dinner with a group of about 10 people and it felt great more like GREAT to be the center of attention almost like holding court and having a retinue, though I'm too self-conscious to run with it, despite the desire to. That is a fragment with a dangling participle. After we ate we went to a bar and did I say I'm having a great time? Tomorrow is day two, or more like day one and a half, and then I have the afternoon and evening free, except that I don't because the same group of people are planning something if I'm interested. I am but don't want to be too mujch so, gotta play it off well. This is my fourth time in Norfolk, once for a conference a couple years ago, twice with Spec that first summer I taught at Georgetown but that's over now but it's okay - am I talking about GT or Spec. Eh. Doesn't matter. Operating on very little sleep since THursday, adrenaline that's quickly dissipating, and more of a stronger buzz than I bargained for is making my stomach ache. That is a non-sequitur. What I mena to say is that my head is throbbing and I had fun tonight. I wish I hsad people like this back home. I knind of do, but I don't go out and drink, I'm too something - self righteous probably, don't want to embarras myself like I did that time in SF with A[deleted]a and the woman who couldn't drive, can't remember her name, and I had too much to drink and layd down in the street after puking everywhere. That was the first time I ever got drunk. I think I was 23 or 24. I felt fine walking here so why do I feel oozy now sitting down? So the presentation went well, I think my best so far, but again have to credit the attendees - the whole day flew past like a fart from someone's ass as tight and uptight as my own, like a sonic boom you know what I'm saying - whoom but you don't realize it til it's long gone. Sonic boom thing. What a dumb things to say. My hotel room is nice as hotel rooms go. I am tired of Marriotts. I always stay in Marriotts but I guess it's better than Motel 6. NOt much though becasue even the toilet ppaper here is only one ply. Get better paper in a trailar park because they might be fall down drunks and have bad teeth but even they know a clean ass is better than a dirty one because damn, can't be interfering with potential money-making now, can you? Jesus where did that come from? I had a couple shots of tequila and that was fun, how you don't feel it until after and then it hits, like you pourted it into your ear directly into your brain. I am writig here because I don't have anybody to talk to, that's pretty sad. You know what's sad? in the bar's restroom - they men's - there was a small note next to the mirror, something along the lines of "no matter how good it tastes, it's never as good as how being thin feels" and I was like whoa. I wonder if I'm obese yet. I think it's 30 pounds over your ideal weight. Oz would know, he's pretty into the flat tummy thing. I like talking with Oz but I'm not sure why he talks to me. Damn I don't know why anybo9dy talks wto me at this point. I can talk to teachers because it's shop but anybody else, it's like I get dumber by the minute and quit whiule I'm ahead which means I terminate the conversation. You know what's sadder even? I like the people who read this, well at least the ones I know, that's not very many of you. Lorster and Hulamoons, I met Hulamoons and she said hse 's lost 40 pounds, she's got tob e looking good. And Twids though we don't talk much more any now, and there's Joel and Oz. I get a kick ouf of all of you. I wonder why we say got a kick out of. Must rembmer to lok that up later on. I'm trying to type with my eyes closed because the glare from the computer is giving me a headache. In my frontal lobe. I"m feeling veyr tired now. And I get up early to do a couple more hours tomorrow. YOu know what sucks about this marriott? THey only serve a buffet breakfast and I don't do buffets and I couldn't even wheedle cereal out of a box in the privacy of my own room. But the buffet looked so good, I don't see why they had to put this great fruit salad righ tnext to the bacon and sausages, as if fat specks cant' contoaminate the fruit. YOu know, when the meat's hot and sizzling, the sizzles go everywhere. Holy shit I don't know what I"m talking about. This is stream of consiousness. I bet when I hit enter I'll get an error message, thanks to Murphy's Law. No, more like substandard performance on Diaryland's servers. Did I mention I'm setting up a new personal domain? I have the domain just not good enough html skills to do it well so I'm hanging tight at Diaryland til it's time. Except that I got an email yesterday saying it's time to renw my gold subscription. I don't think I will. Should I brign all of the bigsky and non sdescript arfchives there, or begin again? I can't decide, I like the idea of starting over but then how sad, how would I know in 10 years provieded I'm still alive how far I've come? That's presupposing progress and that's one p too many, go away alliteration you devil. I don't make much upward progress; it's more like I m making lateral progresslike twisting a bottle cap on something backwards, sometimes the rungs match up and you move, sometimes they don't and you go nowhere. That's like me righ tnow, especially with all this therapy crap. I have a hard time opening up and what a sorry excuse that is but I wonder if I don't talk about all this shit because once I do I'm afraid of losing control over it and I'll become one of those yakkers that never quits. Hmm. Rather appropros. I like the accents down here, have always liked the South but as A[deleted]a says, that's because I'm not black. I made her so happy when she asked if I was going to put the N-word into that other book of mine and I said of course not. Now that's an interetsting topic of debate: I'll exclude words that are hurtful to one gorup but not another, what I mean is I'm a terrible person. No N-word but it's okay to put in queer and fag? All the dirty signs you ever wanted to know and more, the more than 15 ways to sign FUCK. Did you know, yoiu probably didn't because hell, you just don't know, that the sign for fuck depends on whether it's hetero or gay or gender neutral or directed towards an animate as opposed to inanimate object? YOu have hav so much fun cussing in ASL. I love sign language. How sad that Deaf people are starting to disappear, except that is until they take off their implants but you don't see that on the media, just the tear jerker stories on Oprah. Eh. Can't throw in the towel just yet. I am sliding off my chair. I tis a comfretable chari. Hey on the airplane I sat next to a guy who was reading a Penthouse magazine. That's something I've never seen before, something that bold. Anyway he asked me what I thought of this woman and I looked right at him and said women aren't my thing and he laughed a little, then turned the page to a guy and then I blushed. The guy wasn't my type. By that I mean the guy in the magazine, not the travel partner. But I admire that, it seems so couragteous to me to not give a dman about what people think of you, enough to read - watch? - pornoography on an airplane. I'd like that k ind of bravado one day just to do my own thing, something shocking. What would I do? I think my only never in real life fantasy would be a sex club thing but just as I think that I have to laugh, I'd never bne able to do something like that. And that's just getting in the door, never mind what I'd like to do. I'm getting horny. You know who I'd like to get to know better? Courtney from STanford oh, we lost the basketball game, can't say we for murch longer, just til the enx of next quarter and next week is spring break whoo hooo, anyway, I'd like to get to know Courtney better even if she's out of my league. And Rockymountranger, I like talking to him because he's a nice guy. A stranger but a nice guy. I'm jealous of his boyfriend. Break up with him, wait til I get okay with things, then I'll come knocking John. I'm only half kidding. Orf Andy. Uh, Jason, do you realize you're lusting after people you only know on the computer? this cannot be healthy. Speaking of, I'm real tired of Ryan II not in an aggravated sense, just in a I don't know where this is leading and I'm tired of the journey sense. I mean even a double amputee could pull himself across the desert if he knew there was an oasis somewhere, for me I just don't know where this is going and I'm suspectin that it's going nowhere. We can't even talk about books and gtet this, he picked up Blankets, that's a graphic novel, which is the hoity toity term for comic book, flipped thorugh it, and still wans't interested. In a damn comic book. HOw can I take him to my private place or camping even and not be quiet reading? Or reciting peotry, theough he likes my poetyr. That's always nice to hear, that I have qualities people like. I sthat fishing for compliments? No, it's just being truthful. I'm not good looking, I don't tell funny stories and I'll never be that the top of somebodoy's Must Invite List, but I write some pretty damn good poetry. And I'm feeling mroe comofrtoable sharing it, that's a good thing. But the problem is, he doesn't know the difference between something good and something bad. I don't want to be wi th a bump, I mean after all I'm the one with the patent on being a bump on a log. I want a frog prince damn it. Or something. You know what a lot of it is, I won't open up to a guy after Ken. When I think about the times he was mean I think I won't let myself be so stupid again, or the time in Florida that September when hevgave me that black eye the day before I gave a presentation. You know how humiliating that was standing in fron t of a large group of people with a big old black eye? Men suck and are evil and I'm in cluded in that, I'm just as mean and cold. There's a guy in my therapy group, *Genteel Old Man who's as bitter as they come because he doesn't have a partner and there are few men his age he's old, because msot of them died off from Aids. I get sad hearing about what he's going thorugh because I feel the same way, there isn't anybody for me out there either but isn't it sadder because ther eARE , I just will never know whereas for him, there AREn't because they're dead. On WEdnesdays I have an assignment, on ongoing, that means every WEdnesday, and there's a guy named Sharif or Shareef, probably the first, who's half white, half Egyptian or sometihng and I find myself being jealous of him. Because he's the gay stereotyped ideal, tall and thin and tanned and beautiful. And then there's me, humpty dumpty and I don't mean that to sound all woe is me because it's not just looks, I could be hot and would still be ugly. I don't know if I'm wholly percent ugly, it' s just that my insides dirty the outside. I shoudl drink like this more often, I'm feeling so clear right now. Well clear in a see how clear I'm writing sense. Or soemthing. Tomorrow I need to find a book store for the ride back to CAlifornia. Not just because I finished Thudner Above and that was a pretty good book but not five star, reaed my review when I write it. Does anybody read those book reviews? Theyr'e so stupid and not real reviews, just something that pops out of my head like echolalia. LIke what? Jesus no, not echolalia echolalia. I meant soemthing else that I can't remembmer. When I go anywhere I always buy a book and on the inside cover I write myname at the top righ tcorner, and then in the bottom left corner I write the date and the city I bought the book so when I die people from the state escrow board who will need to settle my estate because I'll die alone won't care to see where I've been and when but that's okay, it's a habit I've had since I was a kid. I have the diary of anne frank in Dutch from Amersterdam, Het Achterhuis, what was it called? Das TAgebuch der Anna Frank, that is one of my favorites. October 1993 when my life was as good as it got and I had the hot girlfriend, great friends but not really friends, just peopel I hung out with. LIke Doug, I wonder what happeend to him, last I saw him he was working the cash register at Tower Books in Seattle. After spending 100 grand at a fancy private school. But hey why not, he was your typical renounce my family's money yet taking it for educational purposes, I'll redeem myself by living a bohemian lifestyle years after grunge has disappeared from the scene. You know the type, the ones who miss the silver from the spoon. I am being judgemtneal. Interesting. I think I'm feeling lonely. What an odd juxstaposition. But maybe not, because whil e being in a crowd that's when I realize how lonely I am, how despite being THERE with epople and laughing and talking, I['m not connected, I don't feel like I belong. Isn't that a line from Cheers? I always hated that show. That and Mash, could never watch those shows. For example, with my therapy group. It's been how many months and I'm just now feeling comfortable enough to talk a little but not comfortable enough to tell them about the closet or the big secret, the thing I want to talk aobut the most just to get it off my chest, but I can't because I just can't. It's not a secret, it's just if I don't have anything left to cling to and hide, what will I do with myself? I run with my baggage because to leave it behind would mean something I'm afraid of. Okay. The wind is gone from these sails. Chances are this entry will poof disappear. I hope hotn, I want to read it tomrowaero after the rpeasentation. I hope everybody's having a great day. The two of you who read this journal, I mean. You know, I used to get more than 100 people reading every day at one time for a while. Like Is adi earlier, or maybe I didnt', I can't keep people which is maybe a good thing becaus i wouldn't want to be clingy, but it's true, I want a circle of people to call my own. Jack also wanted to climb the beanstalk and look how he turned out. No, that's not the right fairy tale. Ha. Fairy. I'm gay, I"m a fairy. I'm not as swishy as some, but I'm not as masculine as normal guys. More in the middle. I told you about my ktichen shit. The right fiary tale is the one about he dancing shoes, this girl wears magic shoes and dances to death because she can't ever take them off. Greusome. OK msut go now, I am tired.
