tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57231102011-04-21T22:09:32.997-07:00Legume Semitebarnnoreply@blogger.comBlogger241100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1116126468621150512005-05-07T13:07:00.000-07:002005-05-15T22:34:10.033-07:00I called Dan yesterday and we spoke, or rather I listened, for an hour or so. He's leaving leaving L.A., returning to San Francisco. I said, "You've got a lot of people here who love you and miss you. You can always come home."Last night, Alyssa joined me at Club Scene, this evening at The EndUp thrown together by Juanita More. Tim and I noticed this model-esque boy-girl character, a shirtless, barnnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1116125024624354732005-05-01T15:43:00.000-07:002005-05-14T20:11:58.420-07:00I'm sacreligious. I flicked the television off when the pope died (as in gave it my middle finger, not as in "turned it off"). Perpetuating sexual abuse by shifting priests from parish to parish, as well as barring people, particularly women, the right to use a condom to prevent HIV are pretty abominable. Uhm, also, a billion-member organization that doesn't have Black women represented is creepybarnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1116124503259366992005-04-30T19:35:00.000-07:002005-05-14T20:26:11.146-07:00This is how I recently penned a description of our dear friend Amanda Lyn Bhuket Acklin Montreuil:If we get her mildly drunk she might do a medley of Ford and Chevy truck commercials that could very well knock your socks off. Or send you running into the woods, pulling your hair out.barnnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1116124161940133122005-04-29T19:29:00.000-07:002005-05-14T20:10:47.766-07:00Here are two people I admire: my Physics 2B professor at City College and my coworker Yvonne.My physics teacher has a handlebar moustache, the face of an Eastern European jew (which i can say withoutrisk of antisemitism, since i'm one too) and a big, adorable potbelly. He usually wears black and, as if toentertain us, consistently powders himself with dust from the chalkboard throughout class. barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1114092099407151632005-03-23T23:24:00.000-08:002005-04-23T15:25:54.656-07:00Sometimes I feel I've got something to write, but it would take a drinking habit to loosen the stopper and decant what's really here to tell.I'll just start by saying that I locked myself out of my house tonight. As I stood outside the front gate--arms crossed, debating whether I should stand in the warmth of the garage or continue ringing the bell to no avail--I looked up at the sky and saw barnnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1114092370649329132005-03-11T23:13:00.000-08:002005-05-14T20:29:04.526-07:00Tonight is possibly the warmest evening of 2005. It's like Spring has hit and all of San Francisco is happy again.Carrel let me leave work a little early today, mostly because the sunshine was unbearable to look at from behind the plate glass windows of MCB. So I skipped out, walked home. I went into the corner store on Alabama and 23rd, craving something cold and sweet because summer weather in barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1113981230553466902005-02-21T10:22:00.000-08:002005-04-20T22:35:59.016-07:00I don't know what it is, but I'm feeling happy again. Maybe it's having a fantasy crush. Maybe it's the meditation. Maybe it's three nights of going out. Maybe it's the liberation of working toward a talk show. Whatever it is, I feel great.After buying some produce at Chico #4, I came home and started dinner. When I went into the kitchen, I got hungry. When I went into my room, I felt cozy. When barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1113981182646645532005-02-20T04:10:00.000-08:002005-08-18T22:12:59.846-07:00I feel like I've turned a corner with this breakup. The last two weeks have been particularly difficult because I've had about as much social interaction as a monk (and not the kind that gets his jollies off by dipping beneath the robes of other monks). I've been despairing this relationship--nothing new--and feeling abysmally depressed about my life--the return of something not so new but barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1113980855928470772005-02-18T23:57:00.000-08:002005-04-23T09:26:23.106-07:00When Brian and I were together, I felt like I was excellent at letting him have his despair. For a reason I don't understand now but that back then I chalked up to a newly developed relationship skill, I could tolerate his angst. The existential "I don't know what the fuck to do and I'm lost" that everyone has didn't catalyze the fight or flight response I'd been used to in past relationships. I barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1113980553040882672005-02-17T23:13:00.000-08:002005-04-20T22:06:40.140-07:00I didn't realize how grateful I could be for the distraction of a relationship. Brushing my teeth tonight I thought, I wish I could just crawl into bed with Brian and watch a movie. I wish I could just crawl into his arms and fall asleep. I know I need to find that with someone else. But what a different place I'm in this year compared to last. I thought turning 30 would be the moment I'd look barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1108517923693321682005-02-15T17:38:00.000-08:002005-02-15T21:45:41.893-08:00Junelle and I spent a few moments this morning e-mailing about how the best thing to do in a breakup like this is to avoid the other person. And my better judgment (or what's disguised as my better judgment but is really just nail biting determination) says I'll have an easier time of things by sticking to my commitment not to talk for a month. But, man, I don't feel that way inside. I feel barnnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1105171960775690792005-01-07T23:12:00.000-08:002005-01-10T08:06:49.886-08:00Here's the first of several messages I've received from Brian this week.
Text message: "I just remembered that we met a year ago tonight (yeah, yeah, I know Desario's). Just wanted you to know I hadn't forgotten. Just a happy thought from me to you."
Then a phone call at 10:30pm with no message.
Then another text message: "I finally paid off my car. $380. I'm crying on the inside."
And one barnnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1104811342178973312005-01-03T20:02:00.000-08:002005-01-03T20:06:00.613-08:00This was the first evening since this all began that I've felt okay just on my own. I've been so used to hanging out with other people, and with Brian before that, that I'd forgotten the visceral goodness of sidling up to a burrito, pouring myself a glass of apple juice and indulging in episodes of the HBO-serial-I-shall-never-again-reference-by-name.
Rachael informed me today that most crises barnnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1104724860401367902005-01-02T20:01:00.000-08:002005-01-04T17:56:52.776-08:00I went to a brunch over at Brian's friend Jeremy's house. A lot of possessives in that sentence, which is appropriate given how I feel now.
I went because Brian invited me and I figured it would be a good gesture.
I trudged through the rain, ogling the joggers and musing to myself, "People who run must have a lot of dedication, to be going out in such incredibly shitty weather." Then I realizedbarnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1104602783390367192005-01-01T10:06:00.000-08:002005-01-01T10:07:38.136-08:00I've been laying in bed, thinking about the New Year.
I came to San Francisco January 15th, 1998. El Nino was pouring record amounts of rain over the Bay Area. I was 23 years old. I'd just finished a summer and a semester of premed requirements. I'd graduated 8 months earlier, lived with Mandy in Austin, befriended her peeps, then garnered the oomph to get the hell out of Texas and try the barnnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1104719700720397032004-12-29T12:45:00.000-08:002005-01-02T18:35:00.720-08:00Officially 9 months after my 30th birthday, I think I'm safely over the tipping point of this relationship. I haven't heard from Brian for a few days, and I wonder whether he's even interested in getting back together. My sense is an affirmative "No."
But it doesn't really matter too much to me anyway.
I've pretty much decided on my own that this is the end. I drive through Dallas, to Austin,barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1104718751584159102004-12-18T16:45:00.000-08:002005-01-02T18:20:50.210-08:00So Dan is likely moving in with Anthony, to a new apartment in the sky (of Long Beach, California). I suppose (note the restricted sense of excitement) I'm happy for him. I asked, late at night as I fell asleep on his floor, if he thought he'd end up marrying Anthony. His first response: "What makes you ask me that?" I intimated the premonition I'd had simply from observing how Dan spoke about barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1079331459294542282004-11-06T17:49:00.000-08:002004-11-06T18:02:52.930-08:00I found this draft of an entry I meant to post back in the beginning of March 2004. Given the circumstances of my relationship with Brian, it's serendipitous that I should trip over it while trying to reinvigorate my blog. Oh vell:
March 2004
A lot has happened in the past few weeks. Someone (his name shall remain confidential until further notice) asked me out at a party. Aw, fuck. Let's barnnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1081676535967364612004-04-11T02:35:00.000-07:002004-04-11T02:46:46.450-07:00This has been one of my favorite nights on the planet.
As I looked around the living room at people singing "Happy Birthday", I saw old friends and new ones, and felt swathed by the presence of so many people I love. Pete drove in and made mojitos, Mandy and Chris moved here, Rachael baked a cake from a few blocks away, Patricia came early to set the vibe, Manjari flew in to help buy booze, barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1075531113233651822004-01-30T22:40:00.000-08:002004-01-30T22:43:06.873-08:00Mandy (aka Demandatha) harassed me into posting to this page.
Her method was simple. Since December, she's chirped the first few lines of my last entry ("I just got off the phone with Cathy...") and followed it with a harangue about neglecting my readership. Of course, my readership consists of her and maybe two other people. Out of 5 billion on the planet, that's not very impressive. But barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1068582214791750782003-11-11T11:58:00.000-08:002003-11-23T15:35:14.403-08:00I just got off the phone with Cathy. She's my former 5th grade substitute teacher, who has initiated a "return to school" campaign in the months leading to my 30th birthday. She encourages me, always envisioning grand steps to whatever future I foresee. But when I mentioned living in San Francisco for the past 6 years, we both gasped a sharp breath of air. Time's passing quickly.
So here arebarnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1067754773342281502003-11-01T21:33:00.000-08:002005-04-20T22:38:37.343-07:00I went to dinner at Zante's with Patricia and her mother tonight. Patty's been contemplating an East Bay move and followed her gut to sign a lease just last week. Now she's reversed her plan, but can't rescind the offer cause her signature binds her to a year in the new place. So I've been checking in with her regularly, trying to support her decision-making about how to spill the least amountbarnnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1066629714069200822003-10-19T22:27:00.000-07:002003-11-01T21:31:57.286-08:00Today was the day. Mandy and Chris tied the knot and I got to be their "Reverend" (or, as Rachael likes to deface the title, "Irreverend").
Even though they asked me months ago to officiate their ceremony, the gravity of the words they'd written together hit me only last night. I'd been floating around, in my usual half-dissociated stupor, until time necessitated that someone turn on the barnnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723110.post-1061786998275169502003-08-24T21:49:00.000-07:002003-08-24T21:57:39.140-07:00After a conversation in our kitchen this morning, I've decided to begin my own blog.
Amanda, Chris and I were playing that game where you create your own porn "handle". Take your first pet's name, combine it with your mother's maiden name, and (drumroll, please) you get something akin to my soon-to-be famous pseudonym, Beanie Kleinman.barnnoreply@blogger.com0