30 March 2006
Still here. Very long days. I
came home from twelve hours at school and made two batches of cookies for a meeting tomorrow (cornmeal-almond biscotti and
Meyer lemon butter cookies). I’m trying to fatten them all up.
My travel plans next week are
still up in the air. How hard is it to make a plane reservation? It’s time to hire an effective travel agent.
No touching to report.
Springtime in Atlanta? Let’s
see some pictures, mister. It’s still gloomy and wintry here.
27 March 2006
I got cranky by the end of the
school day. I got handed more Crap to do for a project I’m no longer interested in. But that will be over in 13 days.
The rest is going well.
And another cold rain storm. Just give me the sunshine.
The crankiness ended once I got
a chance to hit the gym. A little sweat and a lot of endorphins.
And then an unexpected but delightful
dinner (burritos at Pancho Villa) with an old friend who’s here from out of town.
It’s going to be a better
26 March 2006
Sorry for the quietude here.
School was overwhelming last week. I had a giant paper to write and lots of other side issues that needed my attention.
Farmers’ market report:
pork, rapini, oranges, eggs, white guavas, and a big bunch of Sweet William. We got caffeinated cappuccinos afterwards, instead
the oven. Yum. Daddy was on a roll.
No touching to report, or at
least none that I can presently recall. I’m not even trying to arrange it, though I did go see my cute gay doctor. I
couldn’t think of any symptoms that would involve my nudity or “special” inspections.
I went to a nice house party
on Friday with school chums. Well, it started out nicely and sedately, but it got pretty raucous by the time I left. It’s
always the quiet ones.
I made an impromptu dinner with
for a friend on Saturday. A pork ragú with the rapini and some of the tomato purée I had frozen last summer. Grand Marnier
for dessert. We took a walk to the travel agent in my neighborhood, stopped at the wine shop on the way home, and then he
kept me company while I cooked. I just couldn’t face the idea of a restaurant meal when I could make something ten times
better in half the time for almost no cost. The food was $7.75, the wine was
$12 (a Bierzo from León), and I have leftovers for my luncheon tomorrow. My friend said that it was good to watch me work
because so often we Gays only witness each other in the act of consuming. So very true.
20 March 2006
Happy Vernal Equinox.
No touching to report, though I did go to the Eagle in hopes of finding some. A costume drama
as always (blue collar poseurs and their would-be admirers). How do you say, "Keepin' it real, man" in honky? All the
usual suspects, plus lots of cigarette smokers. Nonetheless, I had a good time.
I'm sick. I'm tired. And I'm a little frustrated with myself. Somatizing
my distress? Moi?
Finally, a day of decent weather.
I’m trapped indoors, writing, but I’m twenty stories above the City. I can see the Bay and Mount Tam from where
I sit, so all is not gloom. My project is going slowly but well. I am eating too much candy, though.
I did nothing to celebrate St.
Patrick’s Day except pinch two non-verdantly garbed friends.
Farmers’ market report:
beef, erbette chard, asparagus, blood oranges, navel oranges, tangelos, and a bunch of scarlet ranunculus.
I have half a mind to go out
tonight or tomorrow afternoon, but I want to have the writing project in good shape before then. My usual urge to escape (persistent
vagabondage) is in full flower. I'm only letting myself search for flights on-line once or twice a day until I finish the
writing project. And I've banned myself from Google Earth for the next week.
16 March 2006
Tropical rainstorm this evening.
I’m dreaming of Brazil. My future husband hasn’t called me back.
I am concerned that the enactment of laws banning abortion
(Idaho) and contraception (Missouri) will lead to an upsurge in heterosexual anal sex. What else are the poor dears
going to do when they want to hump but don't want to risk pregnancy? Obviously, their elected representatives haven't thought
as much about straight guys having anal sex as some of us.
15 March 2006
Day three of spring break. Sleeping
in. I've shifted back to my natural rhythm: to bed by one, up by nine. I wish I could find a job that let me do that. I
got all dressed up in my fancy suit and best shoes for another informational interview. This time it was all I wanted it to
be. Lots of information, three good leads, and a good explanation for my plight. I should have done my networking through
the Gays first.
Stayed late at school to catch
up on my projects there. I managed to avoid the hail storm on the way home. A good but short workout at the gymnasium (back,
arms, and legs). I’ve cut my time drastically by only resting 30 seconds between sets. I hope it works. Met my future
ex-husband. Cute as a button and a mischievous gleam in his eye.
14 March 2006
A full moon (and an eclipse thereof).
Annie Proulx on the Academy: "Roughly 6,000 film industry voters, most in the Los Angeles area, many living cloistered lives behind wrought-iron gates
or in deluxe rest-homes, out of touch not only with the shifting larger culture and the yeasty ferment that is America these
days, but also out of touch with their own segregated city, decide which films are good."
I have an interview this morning
– it’s only an “informational” interview – but I hope it leads to something like a job. The
red tulips in the career sector of my apartment are in full bloom.
So I’m changing at the
gym last night and I get heavily cruised by Hottie McSaltandpepper. He took a long time to put his shirt back on . . . allowing
me to admire his musculature. He was still there after I got out of the shower . . . more cruising. Dark, beautiful eyes.
And a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. Don’t do this to me.
12 March 2006
Brrr. It’s cold out. Where’s
my boyfriend to keep me warm? I made a big pot of beans on Saturday since it seemed like the right thing to do as a single
guy in a chilly apartment.
Farmers’ market report:
lamb, baby dandelion greens, white guavas, tulips, kumquats, pan de zucchero
(a tender and pale chicory), and dates.
I have broken my Lenten vow,
but only minorly.
Friday night we went out for
sushi at the new place in my neighborhood, Sebo. It was good, the service was nice (though the waitress poured only a meagre
portion of soy sauce, titrating it as if it were morphine), but it wasn't worth $50 each (and we were still hungry when we
left). For that kind of money, I want cooking, not just slicing.
I finally retrieved the
delicious white cornmeal and white grits that my Southern pen-pal sent me. I made the best cornbread ever from the cornmeal. I’ve never had (or seen) white cornmeal. Now I’m
hooked. The cornbread was great with a little dandelion salad.
The San Francisco chapter of
the SAOP/CAOP was active yesterday. Good results were achieved.
The NY Times ran an article
Sunday on the anti-chic of Birkenstocks. Honey, I’ve been wearing them for over twenty years. And yes, I usually wear them with thick socks (it’s cold
here). They’re the only shoe that even comes close to the comfort of going barefoot. After having a boyfriend who was
raised in Hawai’i, I now habitually take my shoes off as soon as I get inside (anywhere. At home of course, at work,
at the movies, at school). There’s enough of a Japanese/Hawai’ian influence here that no one bats an eye. Either
that or I’ve gotten so eccentric that I don’t notice disapproving stares anymore.
Goals for this week: a lamb stew
(or a mini-cassoulet, since I have the beans already cooked), lots of schoolwork, the gym, finding a cheap ticket to Brazil,
finding a job, surviving the eclipse on Tuesday, Meyer lemon marmalade, usw.
9 March 2006
Only 15 months of school left.
Google Earth is addictive. (And
we note that the petty spell check function in Word 2000 doesn’t think that “google” is a properly spelled
I’m back to my old role,
editing, and I feel good about it.
It’s freezing cold. It
may snow tonight on Twin Peaks, elevation 900’, but it feels as if it could snow down here in the valley, elevation
There might be touching to report
(Italian, a neighbor, and in the sausage line of business). However, I remain without a local muse.
I am pursuing a few job leads,
but I have nothing as of yet in hand.
I am glad that Little Minx is
back to writing again (or rather, writing something that isn’t hermetically allusive).
6 March 06
Overwhelmed with school work.
I’m going to Chicago because my teammates did a great job at the competition on Saturday. I saw my nephew and niece
on Sunday. I went to Stanford this morning for a conference (my first visit since 1982).
I’m feeling bedraggled,
so I stayed away from the gym tonight and cooked a big pot of beans (Yellow Indian Woman beans from Rancho Gordo).
Farmers’ market report:
mustard greens, blood oranges, dates, Meyer lemons, pork, eggs, and yellow lilies. No sightings of the red-headed DILF
or any ex-BFs, unlike last week's unpleasantness.
No touching to report.
I have managed to adhere to my
3 March 06
Never again. I’m never
going to do one of these damn competitions again. The results are too arbitrary and capricious for the amount of effort that
goes into it. More tonight, and more tomorrow. And
it made me miss the gym yesterday.
1 March 2006
After two bright days of brisk
winds and puffy clouds and sunsets, it’s raining cats & dogs again. I felt only one of the recent earthquakes.
Tamales today: one picadillo
and one beef (both wrapped in corn husks).
One of my little favorites at
the gym worked out tonight without his boyfriend and promptly tried to pick up a little hussy (not me). The scandal! And a
friend from the gym hooked up with one of my classmates. I think have a pretty good idea. My friend only knows his first name,
and I know most of my classmates by their last names. I see the fellow in a whole new light now that I know his proclivity.
The competition we’ve been
preparing for since January starts on Thursday. No matter what happens, it will be a relief to have it over.
And welcome to Lent. What are
you giving up? Don't tell me that you're not Catholic. So what? Everyone has something he could do to improve his life or
that of others.