Tendering my Notice

So today I gave my landlord my notice to vacate my apartment at the end of August.

It's so funny, I've spent the last two+ years bitching about how I just didn't "feel" the community in the Twin Cities... Just didn't feel very well connected to anything outside of law school. There were times when I swore I was gonna get out of here as fast as possible. And now that it's getting to be time to leave, I really really know that Im going to miss this place.

It's weird how this shit works. In a little over two months Im gonna have to pack up all my shit again, put it into a storage facility somewhere and patiently (not so patiently) wait to receive my placement in Wisconsin. Im sure I will eventually get really excited about wherever I get to go, to practice law, to establish a new community, but for right now all I have is the "leaving" part. My darlin little sis got all excited on the phone yesterday with me about the prospect of me moving closer to her. And that will be great, but I just couldn't share in her excitement in that moment. Cause all that means for me right now is that I am giving up everything here. Rough.

In a way its really good that I am getting out of here for a few days to go do Pride in Chicago. If I were to stick around here for our Pride it would likely only amplify my desire to stay put.

I've lived in this apartment building for about 3 years and it is seriously going to break my heart to leave this building and to leave the friendships that I feel only now are getting fortified. Its these transitions that challenge us. And at least on the plus-side I have the bar to focus on. Ick. THAT's my plus side. Haha.

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Age Six Racer" Dashboard Confessional,
Swiss Army Romance

Transitions... Again

It is kinda a humid, stuffy day today in my office. It is, in fact, my last day here. After two years clerking for the Public Defender I have to say goodbye. I'm having a bit of trouble with it, to be honest. I will certainly miss the people, the work, the atmosphere... This job has been an unexpected gift from God. And it sucks to walk away from it.

So here's where I am at: I graduated law school magna cum laude. My adoption article was published by our law journal earlier this month. There was a TON of drama this year at law school (one very good reason I wasn't writing). I also wasn't writing because I largely didn't feel I needed to. I had enough outlets around for my occasional venting. Writing seems a bit more necessary now.

It looks like I am going to be working for the Wisconsin Public Defender, which is fantastic. Our office here had its funding cut, so there was no job potential here (we kinda knew that was going to be the outcome), so it is super nice that I have this job offer keeping me sane. On the downside I won't know where I will be living until about October, once bar results are announced. So until then I am studying for the Wisconsin bar, staying put here while many of my friends move away, and then figuring out what to do with the months of August and September (I have already applied to a local grocery store for a position re-stocking shelves... Im also thinking of standing next to the road begging with a sign that reads: "Graduated with Honors from Law School - Can't get a job").

Its kinda funny, because the ONLY thing I have to get done today is a rather simple memo that I am really just putting off. I may try to get it done over the weekend. I just am not quite mentally ready to be done.

Personally I am at a bit of an awkward point as well. On the one hand I want to grab at every opportunity with my various friend groups to spend as much quality time with everyone as possible. On the other hand I have this deep desire to hole-up, divest from relationships and quietly slip away.

A large part of all of this is that I have WAY too much free time at the moment. I have been running at about 150% for the last three years: full time school with sometimes two other jobs, running the social apparatus for the school while on law journal and creating all sorts of problems for the school along the way. Now it's just me. No job. No school. No social structure. Just me. Wow. That's kinda a scary thought.

Post-Fest 2007

Its been a heavy news time, and I definitely need to get back in the saddle in regards to writing, but here's to a quick start.

First the bad:

HIV resurges among young gay men in New York. Shameful. Truly. What the fuck? How idiotic can we be? Use a condom, EVERY TIME. No if, ands or buts. This is a sad, but unfortunately more common phenomenon. Fear just aint working any more (of course, I said that back in 2003). Meanwhile, in Papua New Guinea, mobs are murdering or burying alive women with AIDS. Lawmakers there are also considering planting tracking chips in those with AIDs... Backwards much?

Oh yeah. And scientist predict polar bears will be wiped off the face of the earth by the end of the century. Looks like Coca-Cola will have to find a new holiday image. So sad.

Then the good:

A former University of Wisconsin (Madison) football player is giving half his estate ($1 million) to the UW's LGBT center. Wow. Seriously.

Students in Nova Scotia are wearing pink shirts to stand up for a kid bullied for wearing pink. These kids are freaking awesome.

Unity08, an internet campaign to put a Third Party ticket on the 2008 ballot that might not be quite as much of a partisan hack. I had thought that the whole idea behind Unity was a liberal-dream of "why can't we all get along" politics. But, as a recent study shows, the following is truly about as bi-partisan as you can get. People all along the political spectrum are buying in. And the money quote on issues: "Gun ownership, abortion rights, and gay marriage came in dead last in the rankings." Its time for the discussion to move on. Agreed.

Incredible Guys

Well that was fun!

As a favor to an old friend, for the last two nights I have housed and entertained (somewhat) 4 guys who are traveling around the country in an RV creating a documentary about people who have really pursued their passion. It is, ironically enough, called Pursue the Passion.

I got to know these guys pretty quick, and they were 4 incredibly different personalities, but all the nicest guys you could ever hope to meet. It was also good to distract me from some of the shit that has been going on in my head, which was somewhat important yesterday. In particular, I bonded with Noah, a writer and rapper from Tucson, who I just had an awesome connection with. It was kinda like: "Wow. We could be good friends!" Given how hard I have found it to connect to people in the Cities on exactly that type of level, I was certainly sad to see him go. We had gone out last night with his bus-mate Zach to the 19-Bar, and just had too much fun talking politics over far too much beer.

I also just noticed that they mentioned me in their travel blog regarding a conversation I had about the concept of "vacation" in our culture. They call me a "passionate public defender." I like that. Good stuff.

And as much as I love my job, I've gotta admit that I'm more than a little jealous of the trip they continue to have ahead of them.

Below: a clip from one of the many press interviews they have had

Just What the Doctor Ordered

Okay. Wow. That was a fun weekend.

To be honest, and not to get all melancholy, but I have been getting a little depressed here in big ole Minneapolis. I don't have the friend base that I have grown accustomed to, and have had problems meeting people... I don't know quite what the deal is, but I'm finding this city just not that friendly. People don't like talking to strangers. I had a really rough week last week trying to make connections with friends who either canceled, ignored or otherwise shrugged off my attempts to find people to hang out with. I mean, seriously, how hard is it just to find a friend to go to a movie with? And I try not to, but at a certain point, I can't help but take it personally and wonder what's wrong with me... Well, nothing. And I knew that all along, but I just needed to get out of here for a bit to remember that.

I took a last minute trip to Chicago to spend some time with my oldest and dearest friends. J, probably my best friend from college, just bought an incredible condo 1 block off of Boystown, and I stayed in "Christian's Room" as she has dubbed it. It was just incredible to be hanging out with her, and meeting up with several other friends who I know I can always count on.

I took Friday afternoon off and ended up renting a car and driving down there with a buddy from work, who was likewise going to Chicago to visit his boyfriend. Once we got there, J made me dinner and after gawking at her unbelievable new home, we went out on the town. First to SideTrakk, which is MUCH the better than it's Traverse City version (the only gay bar in my home town: literally a double wide trailer). Within minutes at that bar we happened to bump into a couple from Traverse who have served as my friends and mentors since I came out at age 17. Quite incredible to see them out, and I was thrilled to catch up with them.

And here's the thing: when we went to the bar to grab some drinks, random people just started talking to us. Maybe it was unique to MarketDays, which was last weekend, but it was amazing to have people strike up a conversation! I can NEVER get people to do that in Minneapolis!

From SideTrakk J and I moved on to Hydrate to meet up with one of my childhood friends (known me since 2nd grade) and his new wife. Let the flood of people wash over us there for a bit, then over to Buck's for pool. Again, people just randomly chatting with us left and right. We lasted to bar close, and then made our way home.

The next morning, J and I got breakfast, then walked around Market Days, collecting condoms and flirting with random guys at random tables. About noon we met up with another friend (also from 2nd grade) and his ex-girlfriend, who I adore. We ended up drinking outside straight from noon until 7:30. J and I actually forgot to eat, and were making ourselves quite happy drinking Bacardi's canned Mojitos.... Quite yummy. But by 7:30 I was dancing shirtless in the street and motorboating complete strangers (see photo), before I passed out neatly in my room.

I woke up about 2am, roaring and ready to go. "What the hell?" I thought, so I hit the streets, looking for some fun. As I was walking up Halstead, a small Filipino guy, Danny, approached me:

"Hey, how you doing?"

"Good." I said, wondering what he wanted.

"Are you straight?" he asked.

"No, why do you ask?" I responded.

"Good. Let's go get a drink." And just like that, I had a companion at Buck's where we chatted til about 3am. He was even super nice after I made it clear that I wasn't interested in going home with him. After Buck's closed, Danny directed me to Hydrate, where I proceeded to dance til about 5am, stopping only to make out with Paul, a publicist from D.C. Then home, playing in the rain along the way.

The next morning, J and I met our friend D (another awesome friend from college) for brunch at Orange. The wait was excruciating, (as we hadn't eaten real food in roughly 24 hours) but it gave us ample time to catch up and the food was well worth the wait. After that, we walked around Market Days for a little while longer (saw one of gay porn's biggest stars, Matthew Rush, walking around), and then I picked up my buddy from work, and we made our way back to Minneapolis. It had been a weekend of amazing friends, shirtless guys and just feeling wonderful about myself again.

It was, indeed, just what I needed.


Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Spit on a Stranger" Nickel Creek,
This Side

Hello Again!

Well Hello!

It is once again 4:30 in the morning, and due to the time change from Thailand I am wide awake again. I havent been the best at forcing myself to readapt to the Central Time Zone. Which then results in me going to bed at 9pm and waking at 4am. Well, worse things have happened.

The trip was amazing, full of fantastic friends and phenomenal experiences. Over the next couple of days I will try my best to detail the trip in a separate posting, but for right now I will just comment that it was the perfect combination of relaxation, partying, culture and adventure. The photos from everyone else's cameras will be drifting in soon, so I'll be posting those too.

A lot of thought was put in during this trip about the Guy (the Nigerian, to clarify). Before I flew to Thailand, I had a one night layover in Chicago, where he is currently staying with relatives. I had hoped that we might be able to spend a romantic evening together, but the stars just didnt align, and we weren't able to make it happen. Before I had left I had been rather refusing to acknowledge that I was once again "single" (most markedly noted by my posting "It's Complicated" on my Facebook relationship section... I know... Lame.). But what I realized on this trip was that it is time to move on. It is time to give another whack at finding "the one." It's hard to give up on what we had, but it is time to do so. Maybe there's a future with Him, but until I know that I need to put myself out there again (and to my credit, since I have been home I have had one date and two hookups: Ive been home three nights; I didnt get any action in Thailand, so I came back a little... wound up). There were all sorts of situations in Thailand that I thought "It would be so nice if He were here." But he wasn't, and I suppose it is time to find someone who could be.

Now that I'm back, I feel like I have a million things to take care of, and it all seems a little overwhelming, especially coming from an atmosphere where I didn't have to do anything all day. Before I left I signed a 1Br apartment in my same building, and now have a little over a month before I need to pack up my shit and move. I also need to (once again) re-edit my Adoption Article to be resubmitted for publication. Im coming up on my third year of law school, so it is also time to start looking at potential employers around the country. Yipee! Add to that the simple fact that I have no groceries and need to get back into my work-out routine, and I'm feeling a bit behind.

Its funny. Before I left, a friend who had just returned from Vietnam told me, "Make sure you take mental time and energy to readjust to being back. Because you are not going to want to be." She specifically noted the depression that sets in after leaving such a paradise. And while I am always glad to be back on U.S. soil, she was damn right. I spent the first day not wanting to eat American food, not wanting to acknowledge that I had things to do, places to be. I came home and even felt poorer, not only because I have to face my credit card bills but more because I'm not spending the Bhat, which has a great exchange rate to U.S.

Im getting over all that... I have a great weekend to look forward to (Bikers with Big Hearts for Camp Heartland) and plenty of friends to keep me distracted. That's the stuff. Til I adjust, I guess I'll just keep waking up at 4am. Smile.

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Black Balloon" Goo Goo Dolls,
Dizzy Up the Girl

Where I've Been, Where I'm Going

Well, I guess it is fair to say that blogging hasn't been high on my list of priorities lately. I've been busy with my day job (more than usual: four murders on my desk at once), picked up a bartending job at a kickass club, and been finishing work grading the "write-on" competition for the Law Journal. It's not that I don't have things to say: be it volleyball pants and blind people or things a bit more relevant (read: the irrelevance of the Bush Monarchy) there have been a lot of things bouncing around inside of my head.

But even now that I am motivated to get some writing done, I still don't have the time, and am now leaving for Thailand until the end of the month. I'm sure I will be doing a lot of writing there, but all by hand and I'm sure little if any of it ends up online.

Wish me safe travels, and I'll write again soon!

Good Damn Weekend

Well, the Guy has officially left. We got to spend one last glorious night together last week, fed by the passion we have developed together and the longing we knew that we will have as we part ways. Asi es la vida. In some ways it helped that we had that break-up a few weeks back, because I had already divested some from the relationship, but I'm certainly glad that we had gotten back together to spend what little time we had left together to truly remember how good we are together. Or were. Or will be. Who knows?

He left me with a little plastic ruler, which now sits at my desk reading "No one measures up to you." Ahhh.

The last week of work saw me wrap up my "top secret" project that I had been focusing on for a few weeks. It was controversial, heated, and I just tried my best (sometimes not so well) to stay above the fray. Well, my part has been played, now I just get to sit back and watch.

Friday night I went out with the folks from work. Predictably, we we ended up having too much fun, kinda crashing a Bachelor/Bachelorette party bus, obliterating a few styrofoam coolers along the way when we all fell cascade-style on top of them when the bus braked suddenly. Good times. Took my mind off the stress of the week, for sure.

Saturday I started training to bartend at Karma. They started training me at about 11pm, and had me out the door by midnight. Sound a little abrupt? It was. The thing was that the guy training me asked, "Do I need to train you to mix drinks?"

"No, I've been bartending since I was 18."

"Well, do I need to show you how this computer system works?"

"No, I used the exact same system at my last bar."

"Hmmm... well, let's just let you go at it then."

So, I bartended for about an hour, getting filled in on the particulars of the bar and the way things work there, and then the guy decided I was good to go. So then I meandered my way down to the Saloon, met a couple of friends there for a few drinks, then made it an early night home.

Yesterday went for a glorious brunch with my Roomie and her friend. Great brunch at Campiellos. Then literally laid around and napped away much of the day. Wow. That's a nice way to spend a weekend. It just felt incredible to not have any major work hanging around my neck.

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Open Your Eyes" Snow Patrol,
Eyes Open

This should help me get a job.... Definitely.

See about 6 Minutes in... Oh to be a nationally famous porn addict. Too bad Mom's not around to be proud.

Once Again I Bartend!

Well, as I noted briefly last Monday, I was offered a job at a club that I had been hanging out at. Ironically the job offer came from me being a sassy drunken bitch to the bar owner:

As we were leaving, he asked our group, "So did you guys have a good time tonight?"

My response: "It would have been better if your bartenders didn't suck ass."

We got into a quick discussion about what was wrong with the bar service, and he ended up telling me to call him about a job. Sweet.

So I went in and talked to the bar manager, and will be starting this Saturday. I will be working for the gay nights they host about once a month, which are always kick-ass parties, and possibly some pick-up Saturday shifts along the way.

I have seriously missed bartending. It's a great social outlet, and a great break from have "the law" be the only thing interesting going on in my life. It's hard to believe that it has been over a year since I left BOOM!. Not that I entirely miss that place in particular.

So here's where I'll be:


Now I just need to start studying my Drink Flashcards again. (Im not kidding.)

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Everybody's Leaving" Elkland,
Golden

Please don't tell me I'm becoming one of "those" people

Wow. I've been working for the Public Defender for too long... My distrust of all things "institutional" is growing.

Last night I went to a "screening" with my roommate of the Extreme Home Makeover that aired, which featured her non-profit, Camp Heartland. It was a really nice testament to the work that they do, and helped focus on some of the shocking discrimination that still occurs against people with HIV. The ignorance that continues to exist on these issues still amazes me (and, true enough, one of the people at this party, as nice as he was, asked at a point, "So, how is HIV spread?").

But at a certain part of the show, a teenager started to speak about how she was kicked out of her CHURCH on EASTER by her pastor. Holy Lord. While I was also kicked out of a church in my youth, having it done because of a disease you are already suffering with somehow makes it seem so much worse. And yet why? I was just reading this blog post (try to read it and NOT get sucked into the comments...) about the cruelty of growing up gay in fundamentalist families.

One of the guys I mentored in college as he came out grew up in a family like that. He was terrified of what being gay meant for his soul. When this article was published in our student paper, he contacted me for guidance. After he started to come out, and was doing rather well with the process, his evangelical pastor kicked him out in front of the whole congregation at their summer picnic, the event where he knew that this young man would set the best "example" for everyone else in the flock. Why this even shocks me though is beyond me. The Catholic Church is still forbidding contraception in Africa, because it can't see past its own nose on "birth control." So it is letting people die.

How quickly faith and reason get lost in religion.

And then, this morning, I was listening to this story on Slate.com about the American Center for Voting Rights. It essentially was this fake advocacy group that used anecdotal (and often false) evidence to push forward legislation to stem the tide of big-bad-voter-fraud that was overtaking our country. Except, there was no such epidemic, and the advocacy group, low and behold, was serving as an instrument of the GOP, targeting Democratic districts to pass laws that would largely disenfranchise Dem voters (poor, elderly, and/or minority). This also ties in nicely with the Justice Department firings of AGs who wouldn't pursue cases of voter fraud against Dem candidates, particularly because those AGs didn't think there were merits to the cases.

So here, once again, it seems that we have the GOP trying to pull one over on the American people (and largely succeeding) by creating a fake scandal. It becomes one of those "trust no one" societies when even our voting turns out to be manipulated.

The truth is out there. ;-)

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Fire and Rain" James Taylor,
The Best of James Taylor

Tragically Uncoordinated

You know those times in life when you simply just have to laugh at yourself?

Yesterday I had one of them.

My family's lack of athletic ability is something of legend in my hometown. While my father bikes, my sister swims, and I run, that is because those are things that we can't muck up by missing the ball/fumbling/generally making idiots of ourselves. For a good while in my childhood I had tried soccer, baseball, basketball, even football (eek, that one lasted about two days). Each one a bit more tragic than the last.

Well, some things never change. I went to the gym yesterday with a buddy of mine and followed his work out, just to mix things up a little. A good way in, we moved to the abdominal board, which he put on an incline. He grabbed a 12-pound medicine-ball, and showed me how to do a sit-up-throw-catch exercise. I watched and threw the ball while he did his first set, and then I got on the incline to do mine.

He threw the ball, I started to sit up and *WHAM* the 12-pound medicine ball hit me square in the left eye and knocked me down to the board.

After the tears of pain cleared from my eye, we could only laugh as I said, "Have I mentioned how uncoordinated I am? Sitting up and catching at the same time might not work for me."

Even better was the super hot guy working out next to us who I'm pretty sure got a good laugh as well.

(P.S. I ended up getting the hang of the exercise)

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Fall" Kepano Green,
Valley Drive

Uninsured American

It hit me yesterday, as I received my bill from the dentist, as the personal trainer at my new gym gawked at me, and as I scratched the continually-present (possibly fatal) spider bites I got in Chile: I am one of America's uninsured.

I just aged-out of my father's insurance this last birthday. And I won't be eligible for insurance with my job for about 18 months (assuming they give me a job).

When I had last gone to the dentist, the hygienist tried to get in my face (get it: "get in my face"! she's a hygienist...har!) about my continuing refusal to floss. "How about for next time, your goal is to floss twice a week?" she proposed.

"How about for next time, my goal is to graduate law school, get a job, pass the bar, and get health insurance, so that I don't have to pay out the nose to hear you lecture me about my mouth?" I countered. She didn't like that much.

Yesterday I went to go sign up for a new gym membership closer to work. The trainer: "You can get 20% off with your insuranc..." I cut her off. "Thanks, but I'm not insured." She was positively aghast. "What are you thinking?" I don't possibly know.

And then I looked online, wondering why the spider bites I got almost three weeks ago in Chile are still itching and how long I should expect it to last. Here's what I found. Gee... Possible kidney failure? I should go see a doctor about that. Wait. No I shouldn't. I should wait til I start seizing so i can go to the emergency room so I won't have to pay.

The honest truth is that I have now found myself among the 46.6 million Americans (that's 16%) who are without health coverage. And it's already cramping my style.

Counting Blessings

I just finished writing my Thank You Notes from my birthday. My mother was always an extreme stickler about sending notes out, and, although they are a tich late this round, it has become important to me as well. Sometimes it is less about the action of thanking the person than just generally being thankful overall. Reminds us of exactly what gifts we have received (both birthday and otherwise) and to be grateful for each of them.

To be honest, last year's birthday sucked worse than any I can remember before it. It was a law school thing, and it was just horrid. But this year couldn't have been better. I took the initiative to get my butt to Chile to be with my sister. And let me just say that no one can do a birthday quite like my sister. There she treated me to a deluge of tasty treats, an incredible meal of Tapas in Valparaiso (Poblenou: try the apple and honey roasted chicken or the pork tenderloin with saffron risotto, both amazing!), and her host mother had a little celebration that included seafood empanadas which were incredible! Carey took me out shopping, and we just spent a wonderful day together.

Then, when I got home, my father presented me with a ceramic tile piece he had bought in China with a cool fish design. He took me out for a couple of great meals, bought me a new power drill and a case for my Mac book. Quite generous.

There have been times in my life, ESPECIALLY with my father, that I have neglected everything he has given me (sometimes out of envy for what my sister has received). It's important to see that he has also been consistently generous with me as well.

It was a good birthday. And I am getting more mature (or at least older).

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"When All is Said and Done" Trapt,
Trapt

Officially Failed

Well, I knew eventually this would happen.

I have grown so accustombed to juggling so many things in my life, and I knew that one day I just wouldn't be able to keep all the balls in the air. (I would make a "balls in the air" joke, but this is serious folks.) I finally hit that point where I neglected something important to me, and there is no longer anything I can do to make up for it.

And for this I must apologize.

Today officially marks the end of the academic year. I am now a 3L.

But around the end of last summer I started an "around the world" beer tour at a local hang-out, where the goal was to drink one of every beer they had in their selection: a total of 80. I immediately decided that my goal would be to complete this arduous journey of hops by the end of my 2L year. I came damn close, I have currently killed about 65 of those tasty beverages, so I have made a good dent in this goal, but nonetheless, this is a failure.

For once in my life I have not drank enough.

I have failed.

Back to the Grind

I am (perhaps depressingly) excited to be back at my desk at work. I love my job.

I came back to a stack of work about 8" high, which is actually kinda fun to jump into (Lest there be doubts that I am needed at my job). I got a last-minute research request yesterday for a team that was in trial and needed an answer by the end of the day. Sweet. I love that sort of stuff (I need to get my head examined). Many of the issues I've got sitting on my desk are basic legal questions, that make me feel really smart for knowing the quick answers to them: "Can I bring up the character of the victim in a self-defense case?" "Can premeditation be formed within seconds or minutes, or does it need more time to develop?" "What sort of constructive possession is needed to convict a person of possession of an illegal substance?"

I am still putting off studying for my Jurisprudence exam. It is just a depressing prospect to have to look forward to. I didn't learn a damn thing all semester, mostly because it is a useless subject with zero application to either my professional life or even passing the bar exam. I have about two days to learn some 1000 years of legal theory. Ehh... No problem. (Fuck me!... Aunt Helen! - name the movie).

Beyond that, I tried calling the Guy last night to make one more attempt at reviving the relationship. All I can say is that at least I tried. He seems more intent on staying hurt and upset, which is his prerogative. Not the way I live my life. So, time to move on.

I went to a high-end salon yesterday to get my stomach waxed. My dear friends, stomach hair has plagued me from my youth and has always bothered me, perhaps more than it should. I even tried the laser treatments for awhile. I have a party this weekend that will likely involve me removing my shirt, and especially now that I am now single, it is rather important that I not be a woolly beast. But the reason I bring this up now is this: I had a 5:30 appointment, for which I showed up at 5:35. The waxing took no more than 15 minutes, and I didn't even get any touch-up tweezing. And I got charged $45.

When I graduate, I will have gone through 7 years of education and hold a graduate degree. And yet, even then, (admittedly because of personal philanthropic choices) my time will still not be worth $45 an hour. Let alone $45 for a half-hour. Wow. Maybe I'll just go back to cutting my own hair. Can anyone else see a tragic self-inflicted waxing accident in my future?

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Same" Snow Patrol,
Final Straw

Dancing Christian, Dancing Buddhist, Dancing Queens

Haven't posted in a while. Nothing too exciting going on, except at my legal clinic. And everything I deal with there is confidential. Not like, "Oooohhh... this is gonna piss-a-bitch off," but more like "Ooops, I can't become a lawyer anymore" confidential. So.

I went to our Law Prom this last weekend. I was kinda dreading it really, and only went because I am on the team of people that helps plan these events. I thought my date was being reticent about the whole thing, and I was kinda forced by default to hang out with a group I had barely even talked to in a while.

Well, I had a freaking blast. The folks I hung out with are great people, and I was reminded why I loved hanging out with them so much last year. And my date... he was charming, sexy, didn't mind meeting a million law school folks, and we had a blast getting down on the dance floor.

On that point, I give my school great credit. Attending a Catholic law school in the Midwest, I have had to put up with my fair share of crap as a gay man at the school. If I had to make my decision to attend here again, I would heavily reconsider. But at this dance... it was almost utopian. Nobody seemed to give a crap that I was dancing up on a hot guy, or that he was dancing right back up on me. After thinking about the whole thing in the fog of hangover the next morning, I realized that in the 7 years that I have been out and in education, I have never once brought a guy to a school dance. In fact, I can hardly think of an official social function where I have brought a true "date." Admittedly, most of that is the fact that I have been perpetually single for most of my life, but that only made the experience more fun: I had someone to bring to this dance, and then everyone was amazing about it.

And speaking of amazing, the guy I brought is, well, quite something. He's Buddhist (like a for-real practicing Buddhist) which gives him far more depth than most of the other guys I have met in a really long time. Witty, fun, and a great kisser on top of all that. There are moments when I looked at him on Saturday and just felt very lucky to have him with me.

I had met the Buddhist a few weeks back at a party on an idle Friday night. I had found myself at a party with a bunch of people who shouldn't have been drinking, and was kinda in a mood about that, cause that is really not a good situation for me to be put in. I was a bit salty for much of the evening, and finally I had this guy call me out for being a giant dose of negative energy. I went to mentally tackle this interloper on my negative streak when I realized that the guy was totally right. And he was cute. We ended up talking for a while, but when my friends made to leave I oddly told this guy, the Buddhist, that, "Hey, I look forward to bumping into you again." No numbers exchanged, just left it up to fate.

The next morning I woke up and wanted to slam my head against a wall for that decision.

Later that night (this is Saturday now), I was riding around in a limo for a friend's birthday. We were having a blast and ended up at one of the gay bars I never go to (seriously, this was my second time there). And who do I bump into? The Buddhist.

We started dancing there, and may have made out a little bit on the dance floor (I am indeed a classy guy). Needless to say, numbers were exchanged that night.

Sooo... After the dance this last weekend, I officially like this one. I know that in my last posts I have talked about the wonder of being single, and I am pretty sure that it will take someone pretty amazing to make me want to give that up anytime soon. The Buddhist just might be amazing.

Of course now that I have opened myself up to that possibility, the nervous part of me starts to react, and wonder whether "He's just [that] into me." Well, he's given me some interesting indications that he is taking this thing rather seriously (pulled me aside on the dance floor to let me know that he's not interested in children, responding to my idle expression of interest in a family one of the first times we met. My reaction? "I'm pretty sure we are still on our second date.") (feeling that he needed to express to me that he is still seeing other guys). It sounds as if we are still on the same page as far as interest in each other and interest in pursuing the "relationship thing."

Which is good. Very good.

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"Easy" Barenaked Ladies,
Barenaked Ladies Are Me

Melt Down

Toshiba sucks! Toshiba sucks! Toshiba sucks!

I apologize, but I think that I'm going to be inserting that little tag line into my posts for a while. Tuesday afternoon my Toshiba laptop, a little over a year and a half old, was working perfectly. No issues, no problems, no bugs.

I went to my 6pm Adoption Law class and tried to turn on my computer. No go. No lights, no sounds, no nothing. I breathed hard and tried not to panic. After class I went home and called Toshiba tech support. They told me to plug the computer in, to try removing the battery, etc. I was on the phone with them for about 20 minutes before I started to smell something...

Sniff. Sniff. Burning.

I turned over the computer and saw a quarter-sized portion of the plastic that was starting to bubble. Huh, what?

The tech support folks told me to unplug the computer (duh) and advised me that the motherboard was most likely shot.

I awoke today and went to the "authorized service agency." The guy just looked at it and laughed. Fan system is burnt out and the motherboard is shot. It would cost me about $2500 to fix. Warranty? Ran out in March. So. So. So. I'm pretty much screwed.

Buyer beware... and well they should. You buy a Toshiba, and it may well melt on you two years in.

Literally.

Toshiba sucks! Toshiba sucks! Toshiba sucks!

Dinner date with a Professor

I have been working for one of my past law professor's for the past 9 months or so. A friend and I were painstakingly editing his book, and just finished the work about two weeks ago. As a reward for our hard work, this professor decided to take us out.

So last night, the three of us met up for dinner and a Timberwolves game. I was a little nervous. At first glance, this Professor and I have absolutely nothing to talk about. I was wraking my brain for "safe" conversation topics as I sat waiting for our little date. I certainly couldn't go into most of my social life. Definitely not the Cowboy Auction of this last weekend. Not particularly interested in sharing details of my family life... Politics was HUGELY off the board, as he has pictures in his office of him with every Republican President since Nixon. I resigned myself to a night of very awkward non-conversation.

Turns out, my cynacism (and that of a few of my friends) was off base. I had a pretty good time at dinner (although the conversation was little centered on the topics of the book we had just finished editing and on faculty tenure procedures) and then the game freakin rocked our socks off! The seats he had treated us to were amazing, and the Timberwolves pulled out a killer victory breaking the Sun's long wining streak. It was quite the game to be at, and I was thankful for the generosity of the professor.

There was a moment however when I wondered:
"You think he knows I'm checking out the guy sitting in front of us?"

Oh, and to those wondering: we did run out of butter.

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" Scissor Sisters,
Ta-Dah!

City Mouse and Country Mouse

We got to the Cowboy Auction at 5pm. My roommate, in all her glory, was pimping me out for yet another event for her nonprofit. As she works for a truly admirable cause, I'm always happy to play along, and have had some truly cool experiences through her.

Well, I was on the Auction Block, and was a little nervous about it. I had slept fitfully the night before (although oddly for that uneasy sleep lasted for about 14 hours). I had had a very odd "stress-dream" about the whole thing. I'd describe it if I could. I had also not had a chance to eat much that day, so I was starved by the time we got to the auction. I grabbed a free bowl of chili and started taking on the Beer Bust. I figured I needed something to help the nerves. And it did. (if you havent figured it out yet, the lack of good sleep, the not eating and the quick drinking added up to some questionable decisions... questionable but fun...)

I made a concerted effort to introduce myself to the other cowpolk, as I was one of the only outsiders being auctioned off. Along the way I met a gentleman who was, well, quite taken with me. Well, I continued to make my rounds, and met some genuinely nice people. After about two hours of drinking, the auction was good to start. I was third up, and I watched as the first two candidates got only moderate attention standing on a low-stage tucked into the corner of the bar. Well, nobody puts Baby in the Corner. When my time came around, I jumped right up on the bar in the center of everything.

With the first two Auctionees, the Caller started with bids of about $25. Much to my surprise, as soon as I jumped up on the bar, she started at $200!!! Well, after a short bout of bidding, I was up to $350. Which turned out to be the second highest amount of the evening. (and I must say I was proud to hit that while maintaining my dignity... no nipple-clamps, ball-gag, kilt or stripping for me... I got that money through charm and style) (don't burst my bubble... let me think that for a while).

Well, the night was a blast, and I ended up a) accidentally winning another "Cowboy" for $125; b) getting into a fight with a guy who kept grabbing my ass, and then the guy who threatened to kick me out for standing up for myself (Hi. Drama. This is Christian. Why don't you two hang out for a while?); c) going to White Castle with my roommate, a drag queen, and a pig farmer; d) going home with said pig farmer; e) all of the above.

Lest anyone get the wrong impression, I had a really good time with the Pig Farmer. In fact it wasn't until the next morning when I awoke in a trailer park and he was pillow-talking about fertilizing sows that I realized just what a cultural juxtaposition I had drunkenly stumbled into. These guys (the drag queen, his partner, and the farmer) were such absolutely wonderful guys, but truly cut from a different cloth of life. It was quite fun hanging out with them and getting a little taste of a whole other culture.

So I count Saturday night as a success: I went home with one Cowboy, was "bought" for a date with another, and "bought" my own date for a third. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Musical Fodder for my Writing:
"This River is Wild" The Killers,
Sam's Town