This addition marks my 300th blog entry to date. I'll make it a good one.
I'm angry. I mean seething angry, usually at anthing within range. Don't know if it's from a single issue, or a combination of several. Waiting for this job prospect to materialize is driving me crazy. Watching my limited term health insurance ticking away is pissing me off. The checking account is always less than zero. My gym is so full of Monicas, Chandras and Jennifers due to some goddamn summer intern discount at WSC that I can't find a place to do dumbell curls. And I'm always thinking up new and inventive ways to be angry about the ex.
After my flight from Kazakstan and the Year of Drama in '96, I vowed never to carry around that much anger again. But I'm having the same feelings again, and wonder if I should go see a specialist about it. Then at least somebody in DC would be getting professional help.
Yeah, I think it's a combination of things, and much of it should go away once the job situation turns. With job will come insurance, then a balanced and growing checkbook, and the ability to date. By no means will a man be the solution to my overall issues, as some people believe that's what partners are for. But it will help me move on for sure.
At least the ex is leaving me alone like he said he would. I don't need to hear about how [temporarily] wonderful his life is now, or how he is going to get out of whatever current disastrous fall from aforementioned precariously secured wonderful situation.
Come to think of it, I don't think my cheap-ass limited insurance even covers mental health care. There's ways around that, however. There's always that cheap-ass discount Wal-Mart co-counseling cult that I could join.
Say it really fast out loud: "HUMMOZEXUALFIZZITION"! There's this guy I used to play water polo with who's very much into being gay, and making sure sexual orientation lines are clearly delineated early in a conversation. He's also very loud and speaks in a rapid, choppy cadence. He gets a kick out of being a HUMMOZEXUALFIZZITION (Homosexual Physician). He's very sweet, but sometimes you wish you could bring down a Cone of Silence around you and him when you are having a conversation in a public place.
Last night at the gym I saw Dr. Jitters, the HUMMOZEXUALFIZZITION on the elliptical machine, and since I hadn't seen him in a while I went to his row of aerobic machines to say hello. It was very crowded last night, and there were people working out on either side of him. Dr. Jitters had his headphones on, and didn't bother to remove them while we chatted, so this added to his already loud speaking voice.
"HEY! HOW ARE YOU? HOW'S SOCCER?"
(those nearby begin to look alarmed)
"Umm...it's rugby. I play rugby now. See? Scars on my face."
"OH! HEY, I HAVE A STRAIGHT COWORKER WHO PLAYS RUGBY!"
(people on machines on either side of him turn to wonder why that's important)
"Cool! You know what team he's on?"
"OH! I DON'T KNOW, I'LL HAVE TO ASK!"
"OK, you do that, we'll see you later hon!"
Sweet, but loud as hell. So am I a HUMMOZEKSUALWEMMASTR?
This morning the Today Show featured another wierd piece about the King of Jordan. It's the second time I've seen one of these blatant PR pieces about Jordan on that show, and they are remarkably long, considering they keep most of their features under 5 minutes. These pieces were at least 15 minutes, and I don't quite understand why Middle America would give a shit about Jordan, the King of Jordan, or his lovely and beautiful wife. They never do such programs on Latvia, Kyrgizstan, Venezuela or Cote D' Ivoire. Just Jordan.
The Today Show is the #1 morning show in America, and every minute is precious to them for advertising income. When they spend 10-20 minutes talking about a somewhat boring, small, Islamic, oil-rich monarchy whose King went to school in Georgetown, it makes you wonder. My guess is that the king bought the spot on the Today Show for propagana purposes. Other suggestions and opinions are welcome. It's just curiouser and curiouser.
Lookin' like a fennec, feelin' like a dog. Must declare moritorium on web cam usage. Too many late nights, totally unproductive, keeps me from socializing with real live people, and it's a generally frustrating waste of time. Similar to AOL chat, I'm now able to recognize such fruitless endeavours and move on...back to CIVILIZATION III! At least then I can dominate other empires.
I got my digital camera. I'll spend my time on the computer installing all that tonight instead. Maybe I'll take some photos of my insane gourd patch and my lovely sunflowers, or of people melting outside in this heat.
Hmm...sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and a pier is just a pier. Next time I'll focus more on the former rather than the latter. Better to dream in my own little bubble than in other worlds for the time being.
My coach told me never to watch Aussie Rules Football as he thought it would confuse me, but I can still look at the players. My bestest friend Brian sent me these delicious links to photo galleries of Matthew Primus, who apparently rarely practices with his shirt on.
In other rugby-related news, the Renegades made this week's Metro Weekly, which should be a good recruitment tool for our upcoming Fall season.
And my favorite columnist Dan Savage is running a contest to see who is the hottest in tightie whities. Vote for your favorite!
Back to DC, and I immediately washed my filthy car when I got back. It's sparkly and shiny-new now. I had a lot of energy to spare after several bad traffic delays on the way home. Left NYC at about 2, and got home at about 7. Again, next time I'm takin' the bus or train.
Never got around to half of the things I wanted to do in NYC, either because there just wasn't enough time or I was...pleasantly distracted. jimbo, Jayke and I went to see the uninspiring 'Goldmember' in a nice old Brooklyn theatre, and later jimbo and I had a nice chat and a few drinks at a not-so-gay gay bar. Missed out on the Pokemon Museum and a few other things, but I had fun.
A few thoughts about New York City:
- There is far too much to do in NYC to be able to take much of anything in in the span of a mere weekend. Better to pick one thing to do each day and stick with it.
- Different cultural groups and races are much more integrated in NYC than in DC. I didn't sense the racial anger and tension one feels in DC.
- New Yorkers may be depicted as 'rude' in the media but it's an undeserved stereotype. For the most part they are really nice. I think it's just that there are so many people there that they have to give you less time for civility than in other cities, which may come off badly to those used to a slower pace.
- Abandoned concrete docks of twisted rebar and rotten pilings extending into the Hudson overlooking a sunset on Manhattan can become quite romantic when occupied with a handsome, educated, well traveled guy.
- Cars are generally useless in a city with such a convenient subway system.
- Food in NYC is generally affordable and tasty!
I got word last week that the job I'm hoping for at USDA is now defined and the description ready to be announced some time this week or next. Then it'll be open for the next three weeks, with interviews following immediately after that. I am told I'm still 'highly considered' for the position, so now I have to just sit tight until then. Patience was never my virtue, especially under the financial gun, but after this I can say I am a patient man after six months of un- or underemployment.
Check out my fabulous art deco lamp I found around the house and restored. Lots of vintage furniture and odd implements were left in this house (a former dentist/doctor's office) from the previous owners, and that lamp stand was just SCREAMING to be found and restored by a patron homo. Next on the list is to reupholster the antique gynecological examination table downstairs. It just has so many drawers to put things in and handles, levers, doohickeys and such that I can't throw it out.
Urgh...working on a Mac at the moment. Just discovered that jimbo.info looks like HELL on a Mac, so I have some fixing to do.
Perhaps I should have printed out Bubba's directions, or at least looked more closely at jimbo's directions before entering NYC. I made good time from DC to NYC, but upon entering the city I missed my exit and ended up somewhere near the Swanktuary of Glenn and Dan. However, it was 1am by then, so I decided not to drop by for tea. After a brief orientation period, I made my way to Brooklyn, and tried to call up to jimbo again. The cell phone wouldn't answer, nor would the doorbell ring. Finally I simply tried pushing on the door, instead of using the locked doorknob, and the door opened. Jayke let me in and I settled down for the night.
Today I got a genuine NY deli sandwitch, and saw some woofy Puerto Rican guys in the neighborhood. Right now I'm just hangin' out with Jayke and we're bitching about men and geeking about D&D issues. Jayke is very pro-2nd Edition, while I am a devout 3rd Edition proselytizer. Sort of like Democrats vs. Republicans.
Tonight I'm hanginig out with Glenn, and we're going to go see a performance art thing put on by Andy, another blogger. Tomorrow is a matinee of 'Goldmember' with jimbo and Jayke, followed by a visit to the International Pokemon Museum! By Sunday I'll take off back to DC early. Next time I think I'll take a train. Once you add up the gas, tolls, and requisite parking ticket, it's better to take the train.
'understanding' means do everything he wants according to his plans,
'take care of me' means waiting until he emerges from his monthly nadir,
'happy holidays' means pretend like you enjoy Chrismas - or else,
'communicate' means keeping secrets on both sides,
'compromise' means being heard but not understood,
'i love you' means you'll fit the role of the boyfriend...for now.
Last night I was over at Brian's to watch 'Austin Powers: the Spy Who Shagged Me' in order to prepare myself for the next one, 'Goldmember'. Pretty funny, and we had some rum and Coke. Brian also showed me how to optimize my slutting about on Yahoo Chat. It's still a clunky system, but at least doesn't crash as much as ICUII.
So I get home rather late, and pop my nightly Guiafen pill that keeps my snot flowing and prevent sinus infections. Sometimes it makes you hyper, and maybe it was that and the rum, but my heart was racing until very late. Finally, when I was drifting to sleep, my closet door opens spontaneously, the automatic light glaring in my face. I was creeped out and startled, which delayed my sleep even more.
So this morning I could not emerge from my flannel cocoon very easily, so I called in sick. Jimbo Day! I'll try to work out and run at mid-day, since it's somewhat reasonable outside, which will keep me from being hyper until late in the evening. Maybe I'll even wash my car in preparation for the New York trip. How do you get to Brooklyn from DC?
Nothing new to say, so I'll cannibalize other bloggers' content for today. A quick jimbo.bio...all about me for the most part. Thanks to jDub for the nifty bio code.
4 truths and 1 lie:
- I was a 'Ferry Naturalist'...a park ranger on board a ferry boat that went through a cluster of bird colony islands between the Alaskan mainland and Kodiak Island.
- I used to work at Dairy Queen, but they made me grill burgers because I couldn't get that tiered cone effect with the soft serve ice cream.
- I lived in the former home of a Supreme Court Justice.
- I lived and worked in a commune/co-op in Portland, Oregon. We built recyclable computer parts for money.
- I once inadvertently broke through Al Gore's phalanx of security guards completely by mistake and almost bumped into him while playing Pokemon on my Nintendo Game Boy.
In my excitement over the exploits of Houses Revlon and Illusion, I forgot to mention my weekend adventures. On Saturday I drove over the harrowing Bay Bridge to the Eastern Shore for a lovely, mercifully short Methodist wedding for one of my Peace Corps friends. My car mates Phil and Kevin were as eager as I to be in a situation that is conducive to getting nookie, or at least meeting new, well-dressed people. Weddings are great for that, even for gay boys. I don't think there were any other single gay males there, but the reception was right on an inlet in the Bay, and I got to see my first blue crab in the wild. They are much busier than I thought.
The nice thing about the wedding was that it was obviously a marking point in their relationship, not the high point. The ceremony was spartan, short and meaningful. Both gays and straights often put too much focus on the wedding, and not the marriage. All men must be wary of "husband-hunters" who seek completion via relationship. A partner doesn't complete you, he/she complements you.
Sunday was tech day. I spent much of it upgrading and updating my PC, and working on getting ftp connection to jimbo.info. Jon helped me out a lot, and will be doubling my memory soon. No more slow, cranky 'pooter! Damn thing still crashes when I use ICUII though.
I have purchased new memory for less than $20, and have also ordered a digital cam for a song! Mucho arsty photos soon to come. If I'm lucky I'll get the cam before this weekend's trip to NYC. I'll be hangin out with jimbo, visiting the Pokemon museum, and will see New Yorkish things. Not going to Ground Zero or to the Today Show studio, thank you.
I am dying to hear what Andrew Sullivan has to say about HIV+ muppets.
There's more than a few broken links to photos or archived log entries all over the site since the move to jimbo.info. Please pardon the chaos and stay tuned, images and links will be restored slowly.
From this week's Washington Blade. Looks like House of Revlon and House of Illusion are at it again:
Gang violence erupts outside gay clubs on O Street, SE
More than a dozen men menaced one another with hunting knives, baseball bats and tire irons about 2:30 a.m. Wednesday, July 10, on the unit block of O Street, SE, following a dispute between two rival gay male social clubs that critics say resemble street gangs. One man belonging to one of the groups, known as "houses," was reportedly stabbed at another location, where the dispute began, then beaten at the O Street location, where six adult-oriented clubs catering mostly to gay men are located, according to witnesses. The rival factions fled the block after a police helicopter hovered overhead beaming a searchlight onto the street and a police car arrived, said one witness, who spoke on condition of anonymity. The incident marked the second time in two years that violence has broken out between rival groups on the unit block of O Street, SE. In June 2000, a man believed to have been a member of the House of Illusions allegedly shot and wounded a member of the House of Revlon on the block as startled pedestrians ducked for cover. First District Police detective Lee Littlejohn said the victim claimed not to know the identity of his attacker and refused to cooperate in the police investigation into the shooting. Witnesses said the latest incident began outside Wet, a nearby gay club on L Street, SE, during its Tuesday night "Hot Chocolate" party, which features nude male dancers for a largely African-American gay male audience.
We've come a long way, baby.
D.C. Eagle patrons among victims in dart attacks
Three patrons of the D.C. Eagle, a gay bar at 639 New York Avenue, NW, were among at least 10 people in the District who were struck by dart-like projectiles fired by unidentified youths in a moving car Sunday night, July 14. Sgt. Brett Parson, director of the Police Department’s Gay & Lesbian Liaison Unit, said the Eagle patrons were hit with six-inch long, razor-sharp projectiles at separate times and locations between 9:30 and 11 p.m. as they walked to or from the popular gay bar. Like other victims hit by the projectiles, they were treated and released at area hospitals, Parson said. Police spokesperson Joe Gentile said investigators were unsure whether the projectiles came from a blowgun or an instrument used to insert nails into wood. Gentile said the other victims were struck at locations in Georgetown and Adams Morgan. He said the victims were hit in the arm, stomach and buttocks. Parson said the attack against the Eagle patrons appeared to have been random and not a deliberate targeting of gays.
According to the Dungeons and Dragons 3rd Edition handbook, darts cause 1d4 points of damage. Considering that the patrons hit by the darts were likely wearing leather armor, they had a minimum Armor Class of 12. Most of the victims were probably low-level Illusionists (no connection to members of the House of Illusion, btw) or Rouges, they may have been seriously threatened by the horrible dart attacks.
The back of my neck aches really bad. I can't bend it backwards much nor to either side. All I can do is look down at my shoes. No, it's not sore from that.
Maybe I shouldn't have rammed my head into Tony's gut last night at practice for being an asshole. Sure, he's one-hundred pounds bigger than me with anger management issues, but he doesn't need to be stiff-arming people during a friendly practice game of touch rugby. So he requested that I "bring it on", so I did. Head-charging people with several years of Army melee combat experience is pretty dumb, and needless to say I was in the dirt in a sturdy headlock in a few minutes. Despite my brother's tutelage and having used me as a practice dummy as a child, wrestling was never my forté.
I sincerely doubt he behaves that way amongst straight people. He's one of a string of people I've met who are total assholes to their fellow queers, but polite and civil amongst breeders. It screams of deeply internalized homophobia...'those people don't deserve my respect, since I'm not like them'. Mentally and emotionally he has not accepted himself as part of a community, and thus doesn't need their respect in return. I wouldn't mind him being overly critical with the newcomers, but he himself hasn't shown much improvement in a year with the team. Sounds like another jihad needs to take place...
Check out this word: unctuous. It means slimy, soapy, covered with unguent, or proclaiming from on high. Jimbo often falls in the latter category of the word.
migrating...please update your links to point to:
That's where my weblog is now. Thanks.
Oooh...lookee. It's coming! Faster server, all on one domain, diva goddess server manager.
Today marks the first sighting in DC of the David Beckham mini-mohawk look that I noticed was so popular in Manchester, England in January. One can assume that British trends take about six months to cross the pond over to the U.S. East Coast. Cute haircut, but clubby and not in Jimbo's style - 31 is too far beyond the median age to follow clubby haircut trends.
I do need a new style, but there isn't much one can do with thick, straw-like hair but cut it short. I tried shaving the head, but ended up looking like the love child of Sinead O'Connor and Uncle Fester. Any suggestions? I was thinking of that pomaded, 50's TV dad look. It would work well in DC, especially since I'm still looking for a job.
Yipee! I got jimbo.info back, and Webmistress jimbo is workin' on gettin' me on her server. Soon, this blog will reside on jimbo.info instead of deliciousbutt.org, which will keep some of you out of trouble in the event that the network manager decides he doesn't like you and needs ammunition to get you fired for visiting a 'porno site'.
Woofy blogger shot of the day. If that's gross, then I'm a wastewater treatment specialist.
Kurt, The Chad, Jimbo, Rich, Mike and Shane
Shane and Jimbo at Red Creek falls
my transexual brother went to the Pride parade, and all I got was this lousy sign
Hmm...regarding the "E-Tards" commentary...it's not the use that bothers me, it's the abuse and overuse. I'd be a hypocrite if I was both righteous and claiming innocence on the subject, but I'm not. I've been there, honey, and it's getting sadder and sadder. People seem to be relinquishing any iota of personal responsibility, and are paying the price. I just don't want to hear the whining afterwards when they're on the skids, in rehab, or jobless and friendless. Every step down that road can be backtracked, but the longer you go down it, the longer it takes back to get to the high road.
There was an odd swarming of iridescent beetles flying about outside of Union Station today, crows and starlings gorging themselves on the things. I think that was pretty cool, anyway.
Tonight I sift through a huge assortment of online photos from the San Francisco trip and create a gallery for the Renegurls website. I'm turning the air conditioning back on too, dammit. Couldn't sleep last night either due to the humidity, the creatine cycle I started, or the fact that I slept 12 hours the night before, exhausted from the rugby match.
Still jonesing for the game. I think another part of my reverie is that I was playing with a winning team for once, and it felt really good to win. I was on and everyone else on my team was too. I don't recall dropping the ball once, and my only memory (several could have been knocked out of my head) of bad play was some wimpy tackle attempts.
Last night and this morning I experienced a feeling similar to the post-party blues one gets after a fabulous night rolling at a circuit party. Yet I had not gone out nor consumed any party treats, and haven't for quite some time.
It's a feeling of returning to a life of normalcy after being in a surreal and exstatic world where everything is wonderful and perfect. In mythology, it would be like a human returning to the mortal realm after an evening cavorting with satyrs and fauns in Titania's Seelie Court. A better comparison for me would have been that I had visited Asgard and battled alongside the Valkiryes, then returned to the mundane pastoral chores of Midgard.
In essence, I was high yesterday after playing with a winning team and pumping out lots of aggression and testosterone (anyone notice how yesterday's post was so manic?). Often, after a good game of rugby, I don't feel much pain until a few days later, and have trouble being nice to idiotic drivers on the way home after a match. There are definitely some elevated levels of happy-aggressive chemicals in my body produced after a game.
A friend mentioned one study he read of testosterone levels measured on two teams immediately before and after an athletic event. After the game, the winning team had highly elevated levels of testosterone, while the losing team had almost none. Surely this was the case with me. I was like a flushed buck in heat ready to defend my territory after winning a head-butting contest. I was abnormally warm until at least Midnight last night.
Like going to a circuit party, it's an addictive feeling, and I want more. But this begs the question: have I traded one unhealthy vice for another?
In related news, my friend Brian mentioned overhearing more than one conversation he overheard at the reborn Cobalt dance club last night. People were mentioning how they no longer liked going to Nation because there were so many "tripped-out E-tards" that have become so annoying. Experiences at Nation are mostly individual in nature, and there's little room for socialization when you're on a one-way planar shift to Elysium. Humans generally crave socialization and community, which is why Nation's Golden Age may be coming to an end. The rise of crystal meth use in the gay community may have some connection to this, as it's becoming increasingly overused and makes people generally annoying and self-centered. Who wants to hang out with a bunch of selfish mega-bottoms?
I played really well today, thanks to some unexpected focus. For the first time in a rugby match, I did not have to conciously concentrate on the match instead of the woofers on the pitch. Usually I have some sort of mantra that makes me focus on the game, which I did not have to recite today.
I make a try (goal) in the first game which helped determine a win, and played like an animal for the other 5 games that we played. My randomly selected team consisted mostly of forwards in excess of 230#, which meant quick and small jimbo got a lot of opportunity to be where the ball was. In one game where I took at least 4 bell-ringin' hits from opponents while I had the ball, my larger teammates instructed me to let them take hits like that. Aww...that was sweet, guys.
We made it to the final qualifying matches and ended up in 3rd place out of 14 teams.
In this event with randomly assigned teams, the eight Renegades in the matches were dispersed throughout the 14 teams, which probably does far more to further the cause of gay understanding to the suburbanites than any HRC campaign. We meeted, greeted, socialized and worked together as a team. Get out of the ghetto and on to the pitch!
>: P'
Oh, in one scary scenario, a rabid raccoon wandered out of the woods in broad daylight towards the pitches. Animal control was called to the scene after Chewbacca hit it on the head with a shovel and dropped it into a trash barrel.
Happy Birthday, 7-11. I need you, I want you, I get my Slurpees from you.
Tomorrow me and a few of the Renegurls will go play in the Boo Daddy 7's rugby tournament. ("7s" rugby, normally played in the summer and winter, consists of 7-minute halves with 7 players to a team. Play is faster-paced than a normal rugby match, and keeps players in shape during the off season.) The weather looks like it's going to be merciful too. In this tournament, you are assigned to a random team of other guys from other teams. Sounds sketchy, but it's actually a lot of fun, and you learn a lot too. Then afterwards you drink a lot of beer. Mmmm...beer.
This article brought back some very old memories...memories probably dating back to my first homosexual urges. I remember very distinctly picking up my brothers' issues of Sports Illustrated, and eagerly leafing through the pages for Jockey underwear ads featuring the Orioles' Jim Palmer and his hairy chest and legs.
For those of you who like cows...especially white cows.
- Tourist family forming a phalanx on the platform: break through phalanx at the point where the slowest/fattest tourist is walking.
- Cell phone user: gently push them aside, as you would a docile dairy cow. They are so engrossed in their conversation that they won't be offended - or even notice.
- Person ready to enter the subway car before you exit: before exiting the car, assume a rugby tackling stance in anticipation of the door opening. They always move out of the way and wait patiently aside the doors if you do that.
- Tourist on escalator standing on the left, blocking everyone behind them: move immediately behind them within pickpocketing distance and give a resounding "EXCUSE ME!". They move quickly when you say that.
- Person with annoying airport bag with wheels: inevitably their bag will wipe our and the user will have to stop and ajust everything. Stay clear of these people until they wipe out by themselves, then pass gracefully.
- Person with large bag on the metro car, which is hitting everyone else: begin fondling the bag as if you're looking for something in it. The owner of the bag will quickly find ways to keep their bag to themselves. This works in gay bars as well with obnoxious, drunk faghags with large bags.
Really poor design skills aside, check out what this "Crown Loyalist" American has to say about fealty to the Queen. I have some friends he can get in touch with at the Dept. of State who may be very helpful in his deporation. But as my friend points out "who would have him?". This is possibly the most arrogant person to post a website that I've ever seen.
OK, that's it...no more Ripped Fuel, otherwise known to me as Rugby Crack. I took a tablet this morning in anticipation of a full day followed by workout and then rugby practice. But just like every time I took it in San Francisco before a day of rugby matches, I'm cranky, irritable, intolerable and downright grouchy. I've finally figured out that it's those damn pills. I guess ephedrine and caffeine just isn't a nice combo for jimbo. And to think they recommend taking two pills. If one turns me into a bitch, two would be bad news for the rest of the world.
The tired, old gay discussion topic of Tom Cruise's sexuality came up the other day. Tired. Unless I was there buggering Tom, Mike Piazza, or Brad Pitt, they are straight until proven queer. And as my friend Kurt pointed out, even if Tom did take it up the hiney once or twice, it doesn't necessarily make him queer. I had sex with a woman once, but I'm definitely not straight.
And every time the topic comes up, the subject of the discussion always seems to be particularly attractive. Gays never discuss the questionable sexualities of Marty Feldman or Jack Pallance. It's always the Richard Geres and Tom Cruises of the Hollywood set. Sounds like wishful thinking to me.
Yeah, yesterday did seem kind of hazy. The sun looked like it was dipped in sepia syrup.
This water sport looks kind of interesting. Maybe I'll become a bottom feeder. It looks like a combination of a pancake turner frenzy, water polo and rugby.
slept in. bike trail. c&o. three sisters. kingfisher. public pool. cat nap. CivIII. President Montezuma. DC Eagle. greeted ex. hello Whit. vamanos caballero. role play.
Laundry. Garden. Rudibechia. Echinacia. Daylillies. Birthday. Cocktails. Poolside. 50. Slurpee. Mmm. Civ. ICUII. Goodnight.
I certainly can't claim to have "skin hunger" this summer, but I'm starting to be annoyed by the amount of play I've been getting with interesting, intelligent guys with open relationships and boyfriends in NYC. One can't get too emotionally involved with a beefy, furry, masculine medical doctor who's into comic books but has a boyfriend in New York. Grrr. Frustrating. Luckily, my Emotional Shielding far exceeds Federation standards, and I even have the new Klingon ablative plating technology over my heart ('ching-ching-ching'). Yellow Alert, ready weapons, shields up Mr. Worf.
Have I said this before? I need a buddy with a furry chest, nice couch, DVD player and a good collection of sci-fi flicks and ample supplies of popcorn. Maybe even likes to work out together. Doesn't have to be a boyfriend, nor want to be.
Regarding my little Flash experiment...I'd like to make those little stars spin slowly. I've yet to figure out how to do that quickly and efficiently without doing a 15-degree rotate on a bunch of frames. Any way to 'tween it ? Anyone's opinion is duly appreciated.
Happy 4th! I got to sleep in, and then the roomate treated me to the movie Minority Report, which was suprisingly coherent for a Tom Cruise film. I'll credit Spielberg's recent move into darker sci-fi films like A.I., which I found disturbing.
Let's see if this Flash thingy I just made (but forgot to save, dammit!) works from the blog. Let me know how it turns out. Maybe I'll make it move or do tricks or something.
And here are some pics. Mom's adorable Jack Russell Jilly is to the right.
I keep forgetting to mention that the host of one of my teammates in San Francisco was the keyboardist for the 80's pop group Berlin. He was the closest host to my place, so I ended up getting rides from Mr. David Diamond quite a lot. I'm certainly the envy of Fitz right now I'm sure. Today, Mr. Diamond runs a software company and likes to go to the Eagle and check out big, dumb-looking furry guys. We got along well.
kd has a nifty site where you can change the appearance through something called 'skins'. And if someone can tell me how to do that and to do shading in a table cell without using a background graphic, you get a prize.
Too darn hot here in DC. Even my friend Brian's libido is quenched by the atmospheric humidity. Pictures from my Memorial Day backpacking trip soon.
I'm happy to report that I gained 3 pounds while I was in San Fran. Sadly, I think it's beer bloat from all the Guiness I drank. Must gain beef, must lift weights. I've been very good at going to the gym lately, but I must increase my workout intensity.
Jimbo, waterskiing in tandem with Belinda Carlisle in tutu and tiara, waving to the adoring fans.
The best thing about vacations is that they provide a sense of persepective. It's so important to get out of your shell, your cubicle, your town and see what's out there. You come back appreciating what you have, or you end up seeing what you could have. Or you just learn to look at things differently. Bubba needs a vacation, badly. Howabout DC? My roomate just got a nice trundle bed from Williams-Sonoma.
That'll probably be it for my summer vacations until beach backpacking in October at Assateague Island National Seashore. No more money in the pot to play with. It's no fun going on vacations worrying about how to spend the least amount of money. Job...must get that job soon...
I got a damn AOL-eating virus from Gurl last week embedded in an e-mail message. As I was wading through my pile of e-mails last night it sprung on me. Now I have to reinstall AOL and upgrade to their new fancy-schmancy version. Sorry for the delays if you haven't gotten a response from me, or if you're on my AOL buddy list and have in turn gotten the virus. Don't open anything from me that says something like "hey, you'll like this joke, but you'll need Flash 6.0 to open it."
4th of July. Whoopee. Stand out in the sun all day to reserve a spot to watch pyrotechnics. Yeah, I'm patriotic, but the 4th of July in DC is just too damn hot. I'm calling off all future lunches at Union Station from here until the first frost, as it's crawling with dumb and numb touristas. Prepare for a thoroughly jimbo 4th of July weekend, consisting of desk lamp shade searches and garden work. I think I have two commitments, and I'm keeping it that way.
Hmm...here's one of my favorites from this weekend...a geeky yet woofy flanker from the Los Angeles Rebellion rugby team. The geeky/woofy combo is a rare find, indeed. Out of about 150 ruggers, it was easy to find at least a few you could get along with (not that my teammates aren't fabulous, it's just that they're SO tired!).
Please welcome littleminx into the jimbo fold.