oiledikes' Journal

thanksgiving with faeries. pot smoke and sexual innuendo saturate the apartment. it's all crutches. a special west coast brand of bullshit.

:)

my best friend from high school was given $50,000 today to develop her skills as a musician. her benefactor is a wealthy realtor in florida. crazy shit.

life with potheads, and radical queers
just a few hours ago, my housemate knocked on my door, disorientated, telling me she couldn't see and her hearing was muffled and that she broke an artery in her hand. i started to panic, but then led her to the couch and had her sit down. she started to feel better. then she remarked on how "trippy" this was and how this usually doesn't happen when she's stoned.

the other day i opened the freezer to find a broken beer bottle around a beer bottle-shaped beer popsicle. a few weeks ago there was a severely charred piece of bread in the over. both of these were the work of my other housemate.

i walked into the creating change conference today in oakland. this is the big ass gay political event of the year, hosted by the NGLTF. i ran into my old intern director from the big ass left magazine i interned for in NY in 2000. he's teaching american studies in some little college somewhere he hates. then i went to some session on building radical queer movement. what a momentous project. i admire the folks that aren't nut cases, that are actually making very intelligent, strategic efforts to create mass movements and structural change.

i took a temp assignment in the city for the next four week-days to supplement my uc berk income and have some quality time with the computer for the oberlin project. i'm writing a fundraising letter. it's my first. and i have a fiscal nonprofit sponsor. sarasota's regina may design the site. but the financial district is fucking depressing. everyone looks so miserable on the sidewalk. i've gotten used to biking to work, having lots of free time, being a berkeley boy.

HISTORY
i'm starting to have a "history" here in the bay area. ran into a hookup that ended badly for the first time tonight, at a party thrown by a mutual friend. another friend, with whom i have a long, complicated HISTORY, ended up talking with the hookup most of the night. i think this is just fag drama; there's like two degrees of separation between all of them out here. FUCK!

in other news, i got my first financial contribution for the website today. a hundred bucks. but i am sick of this fucking project; it's something i should have finished my senior year. once i get the website done, it's on to bigger and better things. ideas?

i woke up in the middle of the night thinking about my dad. in the past 3 or 4 years i've been thinking about him more than i had previously. i don't think i ever grieved sufficiently (i was in 8th grade when he went into the hospital, was released, then went into a coma and died) and i've been wanting to talk about things (mostly with my mother) that i clammed up about before.

so i don't know if i had a nightmare or what, but i woke up in the middle of the night thinking about my dad. i was thinking about how when he was released from the hospital he wasn't really my dad any more. he had trouble talking and putting together sentences. he knew who my mom was, but i don't remember if he knew who i was. it was a brain tumor, and i don't know if they removed it or not. either way, he was half a person.

there's this one scene that's especially significant. at the time, as a 13 yo (?), it felt like i was in a crappy made for TV movie. we were sitting on the porch. my mom had to go to the bathroom. she said watch your dad. he can't get up or he might hurt himself. so she went to the bathroom and of course my dad got up and started walking, confused, to find her. and i just sat there like an idiot with a deer in the headlights look on my face. how did my dad, who had always taken care of me, become someone i had to take care of? it was a tearjerking reversal of roles for the TV audience.

the fact that i was often so analytical about these kind of things, instead of emotional, scares me a little. is this how i dealt with the loss, or am i just not hard-wired for tears?

my new boss is a solid woman
she has a bookmark pinned over her desk that reads: "Behind every successful woman -- is a man that tried to stop her."

at party last night in the castro:
* entered large house, older gay male crowd, host tells me to give my coat to the young "mexican-looking" boys. i do so. they ask me if i'd like a drink. later, i overhear the host talking to some of the guests, explaining that they are the housekeepers. do they do good work? well, sometimes it's cleaner than other times, but it's always cleaner after they leave than when they arrive. knowing laughter. exchanging of maid service information. are they a couple?

* adopted brown baby in a baby chair, crowd of (mostly) white men crowding around him.

* ENTIRE room devoted to matthew shepard. huge painting of matthew (he's referred to by his first name) tied to fence, being beaten by two dark figures. long trails of red paint. photo of matthew on other side of room, with birth and death dates.

* toilet downstairs that i discover has a HEATED SEAT when i sit down on it! remote control next to toilet for water spritzes.

* host in HRC (human rights campaign) shirt -- which really says it all.

a real job!
on monday i start a new PT job for the next 8 months, supporting this older lefty feminist law prof. she's wrapping up a 5 year study on effective lawyering indicators. this sounded dull to me at first, but there are actually a lot of interesting civil rights implications. 20 hours a week at this job will pay my bills, then i'll have the rest of my time open.

i'm at the san fran library right now. just came from an orientation for volunteers at the folsom street fair (i will be a "floater") and will be attending some big fat gay bbq in the castro a little later.

i just got an email thank you card from my guatemalan "sister":
http://uk.geocities.com/anyelickuk/wodbery.html

saw muscle car boy yesterday. he was full of stories about his drag racing crew. apparently a woman was killed (innocent driver) and now everyone is "laying low." the boy is obsessed with this 17yo who is part of the crew, posted a "missed connections" on craigslist, and some other closeted gay dude from the crew wrote him back. it's so much more exciting when you're hiding...

speaking of craigslist and closeted guys, i am once again having phone conversations with the 20yo "curious," "discreet" water polo dude. he was helping his grandpa on the farm in idaho or some such state all summer. how do i convince him to meet me? he's nervous...

i need to play in a band...

pot is the bay area's beer
i am happy to report that, while my housemates are both pot-smoking hippies, they are also quiet and considerate, and do their dishes! they just got finished smoking on the porch, and are now acting stupid.

the TA of a big time gay historian is in town and we've been hanging out. we went to a party on treasure island at a house that has a house boy; he introduced himself as such. everyone was smoking pot there too. i told them i wasn't interested because i get paranoid when i smoke, which is true, but the more important reason is that i feel devoted to *this* reality, and don't need other realities complicating that right now. plus, i don't want to put anything potentially harmful in my body.

my muscle car boy is coming over friday. saturday night is a midnight screening of mommy dearest at the castro theater...

reviews of the college LGBT history start rolling in!
From the college Archivist:

I just completed an initial read of your "Fifty Years of GLBT Life at
-- College."

Your 65-page piece is a huge success. Your narrative account moves
forward nicely and with a good, breezy writing style. The evidence
to support the story-line is top-notched. There is a lot of fresh
material, plus evidence drawn from documents and oral history
interviews.

Except for an occasional lapse in citing a source, in correcting a
typo, and in reshaping some of the content, this piece is one that
with a little extra effort deserves to be published. Are you
shopping it?

Congratulations to you for your scholarly effort and stick-to-itiveness.

my act of charity for the year
no, it wasn't Katrina-related. my "sister" from my few tortured months in guatemala wrote me an email a few days ago. it sounded desperate. she fell off a scooter and broke both of her feet. her mother and her weren't working now. nobody could help her. she needed money. she had a small crush on me when i lived with her. she wants to move to the states, where she spent some of her childhood. she identifies strongly with american (pop) culture, and hates being in guatemala. while her feet might not be broken, i think she is desperate, and i sent her 40 bucks western union, which is actually a big deal in guatemala. it's so miserable there. i don't feel like i'm a good person for sending money, and i hate the idea of charity, but her desperation was palpable, and i know there's little she can do. there aint no hippie free clinics in guatemala.

grad school and movie
next week i have an appointment at uc to make sure i meet all the residency requirements for next year. then grad school? i just have to figure out what to study. ideas?

just finished this INCREDIBLE movie from 1956: Written on the Wind. it's part of this great series of classic movies called the "criterion collection." reads the box: "bathed in lurid technicolor, melodrama maestro Douglas Sirk's Written on the Wind is the stylishly debauched tale of a Texas oil magnate brought down by the excesses of his spoiled offspring." it's thick, gorgeous stuff.

i got this evite yesterday. The party is called "Bubbles, Berries, and Boys."
Lovely People,

I’ve been blessed once more with a house-sitting gig in the hills of Rockridge. It’s a lovely little place with a lush garden, a small pool and a cozy hot-tub nestled under a huge palm tree. As any good house-sitter would, I am taking full advantage of the situation and hosting a little get together for all you fags.

Please be kind and bring a bottle of Champaign to go with the mounds of fresh, locally grown strawberries that I will provide. If sparkling wine ain’t your thing, bring your libation of choice for strawberry margaritas, etc.

There is a BBQ pit on premises for those of you who want something more substantial to nibble on, but you need to provide your own goodies.

Feel free to bring a friend or two, but please don’t invite a crowd. I’m sure they’re all lovely people, but the space is limited.

Bring your Speedos or nothing at all.

Three beds to sleep on for those of you who want to do breakfast at Mama’s Royal Café the next morning. NO DRINKING AND DRIVING PLEASE.

stuff
my sister called this morning as i was leaving for work. it's a boy! she wants to name him caleb.

we had a party last night at the house. lots of great folks, but i get so shy around large groups of people. the director of the farmers market was there, two folks who play in a cutesy band with my housemate, some art kids, this boy who runs a nonprofit radio docu project. it was good. i need to work for myself or get a decent job.

my best friend from high school has broken up with her boyfriend and is going to spend a month in new orleans. i think these are both good things. the bf was bad for her. not necessarily because he is much older, unnatractive, stuck up, not interested in her song-writing, rich, boring, and republican, but simply because she didn't love him.

my car is becoming a pain in the ass and i'm thinking about selling it.

i have a job interview with a law prof tomorrow. i would be her PT personal assistant. hmm...

met with this fun older guy who was written up in the NYT for a book he wrote on "rankism." he read my draft of the college LGBT history I've been researching and thinks i should write a book.

things get on my nerves, not people
my coworker at the current temp job says "things get on my nerves, not people." but then again, she calls the enquirer she reads every day a "book."

i, on the other hand, am annoyed by people. the nagging, old bag who is currently my manager, for instance, or the editor of the alumni magazine, who does not answer emails and continues to put off the publication date of my article -- which she *has* agreed to publish. when i talked with her about a month ago, she said she'd call me with the print date the next monday. of course she didn't. i called her five minutes ago and she said she'd have an answer on the 16th. fucking flake. the process of getting this article in the magazine has taken almost a year at this point.

in other news, i will be happily unemployed in about a week.

PLUS. this just in, from the gender studies TA i mentioned earlier. i just find it so amusing and -- would ironic be the right word? in another ad, he actually uses the phrase "straight acting." ???????

cal stud wants a fuck buddy - 24 (berkeley)

Reply to: anon-9489@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-09-01, 6:24PM PDT

yep, not really looking for fuck and run. i'm a vgl cal student, work
out 4 times a week and have a tight body, brown hair and blue eyes,
masc., dl. i'm looking for a guy around my age or younger for some
great no strings sex, but not dating. don't expect to know this from
the first time, just looking for a dude who is open to something
regular. i'm into other athletic guys who work out, good looking,
chill. up for j/o, oral, kissing, topping. other cal students+++.
gotta see a pic and stats.

housemate moves in...
bare feet caked with dirt, african drum, dreds; if she wasn't a black dyke i wouldn't be having it. she and the other hippie housemate have a rapport ("connection") that i don't have with either one of them. hope that doesn't cause complications. both are nice, place is nice, neighborhood is great. think i'll be here for a while. signed my first lease ever tonight.

quasi-hooked up with this incredibly hot, incredibly smart gad student a few nights ago. he TA's with an gender studies author you have all read. he's just out of a 2 and a half year relationship - which is a bad thing, right?

--------> first you have to be honest with yourself about what you want, then you have to be honest with other people about what you want. then you have to be honest together about what you want, right? and then you're at the beginning of something, but not until you get to that point.

i want to learn what a "relationship" is about. what "commitment" and communication are about. i feel like it's past time for me to do all this. but at the same time, i feel like i probably need to get my own shit together before i'm in a place where i can offer as much as i take.

sexual tourism
hooked up with this nice 20 yo virgin DUDE last night, after emailing for a while. he's a security guard training to be a cop, goes to drag races in his hometown (somewhere outside the bay area), announces sports for the local high school (he's the commentator dude), etc. he showed up wearing a football jersy and jeans, military crew cut, excited about showing off his souped-up ford mustang.

i know "we" are everywhere, but it's always a kick for me to meet a fag who so completely confounds the various stereotypes currently circulating. apparently i'm like the first or second gay guy he's actually talked with in person. he's completely closeted in his home town, and does a lot to build up his womanizing reputation. you know, takes out the ho's every now and then. he talked about being tight with the white supremacist groups in the area, though he says he's not racist and thinks the guys are idiots.

we just made out, and then he asked me if i wanted to be his boyfriend. i said it would be cool to see him again.

what do i get out of this? i don't know. i'm a sexual tourist.

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