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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�It�s an acquired taste.�

aka: The one were nico tries out titling each individual day�s entry and decides that it�s way too much trouble.

The weather has been changing the past few weeks. Days are noticeably shorter. The morning fog hasn�t been burning off until late morning. On some days not even until late afternoon. The days are still warm, but the nights have gotten decidedly cool.

All this means that I have started wearing long pants at night instead of my usual shorts and T-shirt. Dressing warm normally means just throwing on a long sleeve shirt or a sweat shirt. It�s a bit too cold for that now. Overnight lows in the mid sixties. Brrr.

Anyhow, the entry proper:

Friday 10/12/01: -The somewhat edited entry-

I spent the day at an educational symposium/conference. I was supposed to be there learning stuff to apply to work, but I also spent time there catching up with folks I don�t see much off these days.

Subjects that day included:

New California legislation relating to ****** disclosure.

Illegal ***** robots.

Differences between skylab and the new international space station.

Population growth statistics.

***** and mytotoxin.

The need to educate the public regarding ********* regulations.

Bacillus cerius (not as a break out session topic, but rather as what I would probably get sick of from eating the yucky, luke warm pasta alfredo that was the veggie selection for lunch).

Traditional culture vs. Consumerism.

and finally,

How balut is considered by some to be an aphrodisiac. (If you are Filipino, you can probably guess that my nonfilipino reaction to balut was eww, ick).

It was a good day and despite myself, I did present myself professionally and I also managed to learn a few things.

Saturday 10/13/01: -Hard core consumers-

John�s folks had a yard sale that day. Because of this, I had to get up at the ungodly hour of five a.m. Actually, only an hour earlier than I should be getting up for work, but STILL, it was five freaking o�clock in the morning!

After this horrendous act, we drove down to his parents house just as the sun was rising and unloaded a car full of junk �merchandise.� I thought that we were over doing it, setting up so early. I was wrong. The first costumers of the day showed up bright eyed and bushy tailed at 6:20 A.M.

Yard sale aficionados are a very hard core people.

We hadn�t even finished setting everything up yet and there were people poking through stuff and bargaining for deals. By the end of the day, stuff had been gotten rid of, some money was made and we were all exhausted as heck.

Sunday 10/14/01: -snapshots and squiggly lines-

I finally went to see the David Hockney photography exhibit at MOCA. The drive into downtown was fairly quick and the good thing about downtown Los Angeles on a Sunday: free street parking.

I managed to park only a couple of blocks away and ended up walking behind some hip/cool/Silverlake type women on their way to the museo. One had her hair dyed a color not found in nature and she wore a sun dress which had the side effect of showing off her many, many tattoos. The other woman was in flip flops, paint stained jeans and a thrift store type men�s fake, western shirt. When they saw the signs in front of the museum advertising various exhibits, one announced loudly:

�Mata, Kline AND Siskind!! This is going to be a GREAT museum day!�

Indeed.

The Hockney retrospective blew me away. His use of collages of photos were almost cubist, but in addition to multiple perspectives, he managed to also show the passage of time. It surprised me a little that there was a palatable sense of fun with some of the pieces. I may just be projecting, but several of the pieces made me smile and chuckle.

If nothing else, I have finally seen Pear Blossom Highway. It looks much more impressive in real life than it does printed on a page.

I didn�t spend too much time in the Mata exhibit. With everything that has happened in New York, the abstract, twisted figures and shapes ended up being too much for me. Too unsettling. Too disturbing.

I did however linger in the Kline and permanent exhibits. The works there were more my speed.

I�ve always wondered if the eventual location of where art will be displayed affects the act of creation. Did Rothko ever think �Gosh, this piece is going to be hanging in a museum one day and there will probably be a concerned looking Filipino security guard standing next to it, cooly eyeing some outlandishly dressed teenagers. I�d better use a brighter shade of red, it will contrast nicely with his uniform.�

Or am I thinking too much?

The only other thing of note that day was that I was consumer. Being the good little animation geek that I am, I bought the packed to the gills Snow White dvd. I also got Margaret Cho�s I�m the one that I want. Classic Disney and a foul mouthed, hilarious comic. I am SO GAY a veses.

Wednesday 10/17/01: -Nekidity-

Imagine a long, stressful day at work. Now picture me getting home just in time to watch Enterprise, with an opening scene featuring nekkid Scot Bacula. YAHOO!!!!!!!!

I was quite the happy boy after that intro. The rest of the episode was sort of lame, but who cares. It had nekkid Scot Bacula!

Ahem, so uh, anyway, I watched tv that evening...

Friday 10/19/01: -�What�s wrong with this picture?�-

I spent the day cleaning and weeding and such out back. Quite dull actually.

Once I got tired of that, I went out and was dvd consumer again. This time purchasing Star Wars Ep.1 and Terminator. I am such �a guy� at times. ~smirk~

John was out at a work thing that night, so I watched terminator. I forgot that you can catch a brief, tiny glimpse of Arnold S�s willie waker at the begging of the flick. That perked up the young teenage nico, when he first saw the movie at a late show with some of his friends back in high school. I had also forgotten just how mideighties the movie is. Extras in skinny ties and staggeringly bad fashion everywhere.

Saturday 10/20/01: -Bone crunching reggae-

John and I went to a birthday party for Nene, one his co-workers. I am drawing a blank if I have mentioned her here before or not. In real life, I usually describe her as the person who went on at length about the benefits of colonic irrigation on the video of John�s and my 10th anniversary party.

Nene is what may be described as an �INDIVIDUAL.�

Yup, all in capitals. Anyway, we drove out to Weho to buy her a gift certificate from the Pleasure Chest. If you are not familiar with the store, it is exactly the kind of place it sounds like. While John dealt with buying the certificate, I wandered by displays of uniform and leather and latex fetish clothes, walls of porn, shelves and shelves of lube, rows and rows of �toys� and tons of dopey prank gifts that hopefully, nobody would ever buy as real gift.

We left the store and after traffic and freeways and streets, made our way over to a hall in Leimert park/Crenshaw. Nene had gotten together with some friends (a musician and photographer) who were also having birthdays and rented the place to throw a big, loud, raucous party.

They had a live Jazz band, with several guests joining in at various points on trumpets, flutes and spoken word. I�m not much of a jazz fan, but they were good. When they were on break, there was a DJ blowing out the speakers with overly loud reggae. I enjoy reggae, but I also enjoy not having it played so loud that I can feel it in my bones.

In addition to the music, there was art and photographs on display. There was also food. Food that just sat there off to the side of the hall . Food that I kept looking at, because I had been promised dinner and I hadn�t had a chance to eat lunch that day. Food that I started to wonder about the safety of, since it was just sitting there, no sterno, no heat, no nothing for hours and hours.

Food that was finally served around eleven or so. I was so hungry by that point, that I decided potential food poisoning be dammed, I was getting some. It was good, although Bob Marly was blasting so loud at that point that I didn�t quite hear what it was we were actually eating. Vegetarian, West African, something or another. It was nice and tasty.

Sunday 10/21/01: -No, I haven�t been dead for the past sixteen years. Gotcha!-

I had lunch with Kristen at a pasta place near USC. We were in the neighborhood because we had tickets to see the Los Angeles Women�s Shakespeare Company (LAWSC) production of The Winter�s Tale at the 24th St. Theater.

I enjoyed the performances. I enjoyed the staging. I haven�t decided if i liked the story itself however. I�ve never read The winters tale and didn�t know what to expect. It�s a strange story and to my uneducated mind, it�s more two different plays strung together, than something cohesive and whole.

Anyway, that was my problem. Lisa Volpe and Kimberleigh Aarn were very good in their respective roles as King Leontes and Queen Hermione. They also had Mink Stole as their big, famous person of the production.

Kristen and I were roped into helping some with the archiving effort, which means that while for once I don�t have an annoying member of the audience story, I fear that we may have been annoying people. So, for anybody who was distracted by the equipment, sorry.

Oh, �speaking� of the audience, there was an absolutely gorgeous man in the audience. A god passing as a bald, fourty-something white guy. Who was there with his boyfriend, so pout. Except that i�m married and unavailable, so no pout.

After the play, we headed over to Little Tokyo and had dinner and looked at a couple of stores. I found out about some strange anime stuff that hasn�t quite reached America yet that night. Odd adventures of gay, cross dressing, lead singers of boy bands and weepy, yet amusing tales of an orphaned girl who decided to live in a tent in the woods when her mom dies and then somehow becomes involved with bizarre magical family.

There was also a series that despite supposedly being very good, had a very high ick factor, since it involved an (implied?) incestuous relationship. Although, it apparently wasn�t that simple, since the lead guy was somehow also a reincarnated female demon and or angel, which adds a weird lesbian tone to his forbidden love. There was also a bunch of stuff about other reincarnated angels, devils, battles between light and dark and other fun, fluffy stuff.

I don�t think I�ll ever give it try. Incest?

yuck. ick. eww.

eww. ick. yuck.

Anyhow, enough of this.

More later,

nico

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