Stories from a man who fails to meet media expectations of what it means to be gay:
white, frivolous, over sexed yet sexless, shrill, single, stylish, a clown, unimportant, et al.

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I guess in other parts of the country, Winter and the Christmas season is heralded by snow. Fortunately we don�t really do the snow thing here in Southern California. For me, the first real indication of Christmas is when the Police Department puts Christmas wreaths on the front of the patrol cars. The second clue, is the return of the much needed winter rains.

Unfortunately, the third sign is all the tacky decorations and lights that suddenly show up strewn across every other house in the neighborhood. It�s not a joke, it looks like the old disney electrical main street parade vomited all over everything in sight. White lights and colored lights and blinking lights and fake icicles and glowing mangers and reindeers and santas are everywhere. I need a better set of neighbors, or a least ones that can show a little self restraint when it comes to decorating.

Anyway, the weekend:

It rained on Friday (12/10/00), well actually vaguely wet is a more accurate description of the weather that day. It rained hard for about five minutes in the morning, the rest of the day was more of a very, very, light, misty, sotra idea of rain. Usual Southern California mild winter, you have to water plants on rainy days.

I spent the day running errands and doing a very poor job of getting more presents. I spent a lot of it standing in stores in a daze. I�m doing the gay boy good at shopping stereotype poor justice these days. I did buy some socks, but I don�t think they really count, since they were for me. Well, actually, I did get some things for John, as well as Kristen, my sister and my mother, so It wasn�t that bad. It only felt that way.

I ended up eating lunch at Baja Fresh. It was really crowded and a little odd. What I mean is that I was scrunched between two tables. One had these two Christian guys who were talking very loudly about church, fishing and which women they managed to �score� with, while the other had a group of sporty chic lesbians talking about work and gossiping about who was cute and who wasn�t. I just tried to eat my chicken torta in peace and ignore everyone.

I had to work for a few hours on Saturday morning (12/09/00). There was an event that we needed to be at, but no one volunteered other than Gale and I wasn�t going to send her there alone. It wasn�t hard or difficult, but I would rather have had not to work on a Saturday.

We went to Johns parents in the afternoon for John's dad's birthday. A large part of that was spent with the assorted siblings arguing over putting Christmas lights up on the house. I helped at first, but it got to cold for me, so I just went inside and watched the nephews argue over coloring books.

That night John dealt with Christmas cards. I tried to look helpful while not actually doing anything to help, but John, being the canny guy that he is figured that one out quick and put me to work. For some reason we are sending out 65 cards this year. I�m not even sure who half of the people were or why they are worth 35 cents, but hey, John is the Xmas card master not I.

Sunday (12/10/00) went by quick. We went to the post office and got stamps for all those cards and them dumped �em all in a mail slot to be mailed out on Monday. Afterwards, we ate breakfast at Shakers in South Pas (omelette for John and potato pancakes for me) and then bought some junk and stuff and a couple presents at the target in Pasadena. There were all these security guards running around the store because Julie Andrews was going to be there that afternoon. I�m not to clear why, the signs they had up didn�t really explain what she or they were pushing/promoting.

Afterwards, we saw Boys Life 3 at the Laemmle�s 7. I�m already drawing a blank on the names of most the shorts they showed. I didn�t really like Hitch, two young guys (going cross country?) in a van filled with sexual tension for some unexplained reason. You wouldn�t think that masturbation scenes would be tedious, but somehow they are. The director seemed to be more interested in style than actual storytelling. Normally that wouldn�t bother me (I�m the only person I know who didn�t hate The Fifth Element), but there wasn�t much to the �style� to keep you distracted from the lack of story in this film.

The other shorts were OK, there was a really short Aids piece, a short humor thing and a comedy about a guy who has to deal with being the gay son of celebrities done by Jason Gould, who is the gay son of celebrities. I think the final short $30 was the strongest and best film of the bunch. A closeted gay teenager gets sent to a prostitute as a birthday present from his father. It sounds like a weak premise, but it was done with a lot of skill, both from the director and actors. The cinematography and writing were good as well.

I need to go to work tomorrow, so enough of this. I�m in a nostalgic mood, so tonight it�s Laurie Anderson�s Mister Heartbreak.

More later, nico

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