Archive for July, 2008

Dear gay guys, please stop hitting on me

Wednesday, July 30th, 2008

Being hit on by gay guys is, for me, some­thing of a com­bi­na­tion of unwanted flat­tery and a mild nui­sance but I’ve kind of hit my limit for tol­er­at­ing it recently.

San Francisco, as a city, has a fairly large gay pop­u­la­tion and it hap­pens to be the case that where I live (Dore St. and Folsom St.) is right near the cen­ter of gay leather/BDSM cul­ture for San Francisco. There hap­pen to be quite a few leather stores and gay bars within a few blocks of my place and, pretty much every time I take Baldr for a walk, I have to pass at least two gay bars. The sit­u­a­tion is that Baldr is pretty much one of the cutest dogs most peo­ple have ever seen and almost every­one I encounter wants to inter­act with him. I don’t mind gay guys; I don’t mind walk­ing past gay bars; I don’t mind gay guys want­ing to meet Baldr just as I don’t mind les­bians, straight men or straight women want­ing to meet Baldr; but when gay guys try to use Baldr as a way to pick me up, that’s when I start to mind.

Usually attempts are pretty tame, some guy say­ing some­thing about how cute Baldr is and then adding a small com­ment to the effect of, “and he’s got a cute han­dler also.” Sometimes it’s a lit­tle cheesy, as when I took Baldr and Angus out, they, at one point, had my arms spread out going in oppo­site direc­tions and some guy said, “I see you’re hung like this” and held his hands out like the clas­sic Jesus joke punch line. Sometimes, though, body lan­guage and phras­ing can really sketch me out, espe­cially when some­one tries to find a way to touch me, like the tap on the shoul­der when mak­ing a state­ment that’s quite obvi­ously more than just a tap on the shoulder.

All in all, I was doing a fine job of tol­er­at­ing the occa­sional unwanted advance until about last Friday. This past Sunday, the Dore Alley Fair took place pretty much right out­side my apart­ment. The Dore Alley Fair is, essen­tially, a less tourist-friendly ver­sion of the Folsom Street Fair, which is to say that it’s a huge, gay, leather fetish fair. This meant there were a lot more gay guys, than nor­mal this past week­end and I got hit on a lot more. It also meant that, on Sunday, in order to walk Baldr, I had to carry him half a block through a solid mass of men in var­i­ous states of dress rang­ing from clothed to fully naked. The num­ber of com­ments and touches I received was a cou­ple every few feet as opposed to a cou­ple a day and it was just a lit­tle too much for my com­fort. It was an inter­est­ing thing to wit­ness but I’m not ter­ri­bly pleased that I was forced to inter­act with it and I’m rather dis­pleased that so many peo­ple took the con­text and Baldr as an excuse to make advances on me.

The expe­ri­ence does get me think­ing: is this the sort of thing that straight men make women put up with?

Coffee: Experiments in Constitution

Thursday, July 24th, 2008

This morn­ing, I pur­chased a cup of cof­fee, a Café au lait to be spe­cific. What makes buy­ing a cup of cof­fee note­wor­thy is that it’s the first cup of cof­fee that I have pur­chased, or even con­sumed for that mat­ter, in about 3 years. I don’t nor­mally drink cof­fee for rea­sons that date back to my Junior year of high school.

I found high school exceed­ingly easy and, as a result, I was almost con­stantly bored. In spite of the fact that I usu­ally did my home­work dur­ing other classes so as to avoid doing it at home, I rarely slept suf­fi­ciently – a habit that I’ve car­ried with me since. The not sleep­ing meant I drank cof­fee in the morn­ings, rather a decent amount. The bore­dom, and who I am, led to exper­i­ments of all sorts. Eventually, the log­i­cal hap­pened, I com­bined my cof­fee with my exper­i­ment­ing. I usu­ally made cof­fee with our Moka Express–a phe­nom­e­nal device for mak­ing good cof­fee by the way – so that served as the plat­form for my exper­i­men­ta­tion. Mokas pro­duce rather tasty and very potent cof­fee. My first exper­i­ment involved the pro­duc­tion of three Mokas worth of cof­fee, which were then boiled down to the vol­ume of a sin­gle mug; the boil­ing down con­cen­trated the caf­feine but absolutely ruined the fla­vor. Experiment one was a resound­ing suc­cess; I was alert, wired and full of energy all day, though I did crash at the end of the day and become quite exhausted. At the time, I had a bit of a pen­chant for con­sum­ing cake frost­ing (if only I still had my teenage metab­o­lism) and I sus­pect the con­tainer I ate that day helped main­tain blood-sugar lev­els against the energy drain­ing effects of caf­feine. Obviously, my sec­ond exper­i­ment, which occurred a num­ber of weeks later, involved the same process and four Mokas; again there was cake frost­ing and it was quite a suc­cess, though I did suf­fer some jit­ters and stom­ach dis­com­fort. Worth not­ing, I esti­mate a caf­feine con­tent of approx­i­mately 200mg per Moka, with acute over­dose lev­els start­ing some­where around the 300mg range, mod­ulo tol­er­ance; hos­pi­tal­iza­tion can be nec­es­sary for as lit­tle as 2000mg. Not will­ing to be deterred, or per­haps just being a com­plete idiot, later on came exper­i­ment three: five Mokas boiled down to one cup. Experiment three was a com­plete fail­ure, per­haps there was too much caf­feine, per­haps it was a lack of cake frost­ing; what­ever the rea­son, I was done in. I couldn’t focus; my hands shook to a large degree; I was nau­se­ated to the point of vom­it­ing; it took a sub­stan­tial por­tion of my willpower to hide my sit­u­a­tion from my teach­ers and peers, even­tu­ally mak­ing it through the day, col­laps­ing in bed and sleep­ing for an exces­sive period of time.

Aside from the neg­a­tive effects imme­di­ately fol­low­ing exper­i­ment three, I devel­oped a strong psy­cho­so­matic allergy to the fla­vor of cof­fee, as indi­cated by an inabil­ity to stom­ach decaf­feinated cof­fee, cof­fee ice cream or any­thing with a hint of cof­fee fla­vor while still being able to con­sume large quan­ti­ties of caf­feinated soda. Every so often, I have tried to con­sume some­thing cof­fee related, usu­ally try­ing for very min­i­mally cof­fee options, and I have slowly found myself more capa­ble of stom­ach­ing them. Most recently, I think that I had a bot­tled Starbucks frap­pachino drink thing and was only some­what nau­se­ated by the experience.

Today, how­ever, I would say that I have only been min­i­mally nau­se­ated; to such a min­i­mal extent, I would say, that I may see about bring­ing cof­fee back into my life. My psy­cho­so­matic cof­fee intol­er­ance is a weak­ness of con­sti­tu­tion that I would really like to kick. Further test­ing is clearly nec­es­sary but I am cau­tiously optimistic.

pix plz kthx

Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008

Internet, meet Baldr. Sorry it took me so long to intro­duce you.


I sleep most of the time.

Seriously, did I really have to take a bath?

I'm still grumpy about that bath.

Walking, walking, walking, awesome!

What is this contraption you're shoving in my face?

What's that off yonder?

Yes?

Mmm, couch; tastes like chicken.

Ok, I'll hang out here until this picture is done, then I'm getting back to chewing my rawhide and burrowing under the sofa.

Oh man, I love chewing on things, especially things you don't want me chewing on, like this backpack strap.

Hey! Hey! Come play with me!

I know that I look tired and droopy but that's how I always look; I assure you there's something totally awesome over there; seriously, check it out.

I'm intrigued, tell me more.

Wait up! Wait up! I'm coming!

Ah, the ground; wonderful, wonderful, the ground; I'm so fond of you, the ground.

Walking is pretty ok, I guess; I'd rather sit around but walking is ok.

I am a stair climbing machine! Two flights? Bah, child's play!


Post title pla­gia­rized from Riad

D.C. vs Marvel and the movies

Thursday, July 17th, 2008

For rather a long time, I’ve been a stal­wart Marvel comics fan but upon see­ing the Watchmen movie trailer, I find myself re-evaluating my stance a lit­tle. I’ve always liked the X-Men; Thanos, Galactus and Magneto are awe­some vil­lains; Superman is super lame; and there are so many other rea­sons to love Marvel, like all the car­toons. However, all that neglects some of the great things D.C. has been involved in, for instance, pretty much every­thing Batman except the movies between Batman Returns and Batman Begins. The Batman books are gold, the Batman car­toons have all been gold, Jack Nicholson’s Joker was gold, Batman Begins was gold and I am so psy­ched about The Dark Knight that it’s not even funny. On top of that, there’s a bunch of other things D.C. has done right, includ­ing Watchmen and Transmetropolitan, prob­a­bly the two great­est graphic nov­els of all time.

Marvel, how­ever has been putting out movies best clas­si­fied as bad fol­lowed by worse, with the notable excep­tion of Iron Man, which was pretty ok. Why then does Marvel deserve my praise? Their comics are still pretty decent but they cer­tainly aren’t Dark Horse, though really, nobody else is. Are the X-Men really that great or is it that they were really cool when I was a kid and I haven’t come to real­ize how sim­ple they really are?

You know, I think I’m switch­ing my alle­giances. As of now, I offi­cially like D.C. more than Marvel, though I still pre­fer Image, Dark Horse and a few indie pub­lish­ers more. Seriously though, The Dark Knight looks awe­some as all get up and so does Watchmen.

Ok, I’m going to watch the Watchmen trailer one more time and then I’ll be done geek­ing out.