God, let me be a big gay Phoebe
Mood:  lyrical
Well,

It's almost time to go. I've gotten everything done except the cell phone and the internet switch.
I'm taking the keys to G tonight and that's all folks.

But more interesting, I've written my very first song on the guitar. I only know five chords, but apparently that's enough.

It's called Sell It For Cash, and it's an uplifting little ditty about the passage of time, the aging of dreams, and the passing the beauty.

You're not getting any younger / So please accept your hunger.

I can't wait to be a big lesbian and sing it at some coffee house open mic. Now if I could only get my fingers to switch from D to G a little more quickly.

I'm leaving Thursday afternoon. The adventure continues.

That Damn Mouse Took My Stash
Mood:  caffeinated
Hi Y'all,

Well it's been a while since I've written. I've been moving faster than Speedy Gonzalez at a meth lab.

I'm actually running as I speak, but it's been a while, so I thought I'd get you up to speed.

Everything's been scheduled for hook-up. Phones, cable, internet, electricity, gas. Post a reply to this and I can send you the home phone. That is, if I know who the hell you are.

The flooring's supposed to come in today. If so, I've gotta rent a car, scurry down for delivery, scurry back and pack, and then scurry back down to install the floor.

Ever feel like a rat in a maze. I wonder if any laboratory rats just stopped in the middle, raised a tiny little fist, and just shook it at the heavens.

As usual, I'm being a bit dramatic. But damn, moves are crazy. I've got like three canker sores in my mouth, my stomach's a wreck, and my mind's just racing. Whoo Hoo.

Actually, it is kind of exciting. I don't mind it that much. What bothers me most is that I really don't have the time to connect with friends like I would like. I'm going to have to come back and have a going away party AFTER I move.

Hmmmm. Note to self.

Anyway kittens, I'll try to keep the updates coming. This actually only took like 5 minutes. I'm sure it reads as such.

Love to all
B

If I lived in the 17th century, I wouldn't have to wash the van
Well it's morning. I've just finished practicing guitar, and I'm contemplating the next mood. I meant "move," but I'll keep that slip.

Typing feels funny. Bring on the callouses, just not the callousness, I say.

The SF fog's still rolling over the hills. Gonna be one of those days. I'm playing some moody, 80's reminiscent music in the background. I'm very unenthused.

This would be a great day to be Gothic. I'm so very Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me right now. Now where is the black hair dye and fingernail polish I had lying around?

Perhaps I should change the music. Gloom can be soooooo self-indulgent.

But then again, so is a blog. Fuck it.

Well, to keep you kids up to date. The flooring for the new apartment has been ordered. It should be in next Wednesday. I'll be helping to install it weekend after next.

That's me. The goth Bob Vila. "Today we'll be building and finishing our very own casket."

"Today we'll be digging and outfitting our very own secret subterranean shrine."

How s s stimulating.

Anyway, now the focus is on utilities. Electricity, gas, cable, cellie, and most importantly internet. Anybody know anything about the best cell service in LA?

Can't Place The Face, But I Remember That Ass
Well, P's outta town, so I'm using this weekend to say some goodbyes to the friends and such. Had drinks and dinner with M last night. Totally mellow and nice.

How strange to still be friends with your first boyfriend ever. That's 14 years now. Like I always say, once I love you, you will never be fully free. That's a warning to everyone.

M had to take off. One more drink and no drivey drivey. I decided to stay out and maybe shake my tail a bit.

A very little bit. You know it's a bad sign when you walk into a bar and they're playing a Whitney Houston megamix.

Ever the optimist I still had a drink and just people watched for a bit. I did run into this guy and girl that seem to always be out. From chatting with them, I knew they were from the North Bay and just came into the city to drink and dance.

He's her hair dresser. She's a real life Patsy Stone, obviously loaded, with some obvious work done to the facial area. Mostly eyes I'd say. Blond hair, very blond, usually pulled back into a severe pony tail. In short she's fabulous.

A true sex kitten never dies and never says uncle. Rock on lady!

They always work a totally coordinated look, and I've never seen the same one twice. I danced over to their pseudo punk party and said my goodbyes. Off to LA in two weeks you know.

After the meet and greet, I left and went to The Bar on Castro. I ran into G, an old boyfriend, and got to say goodbye to him as well.

Lot's of goodbyes. It's strange how many people I've been running into lately, people I haven't seen in ages. Oh well, saves me the step of digging up their info.

More people watching. More drinks. Blah Blah Blah. Then I noticed this gaggle of fraggles ordering nothing but champagne. Pretentious but quasi charming

It reminded me of K. He never drinks, but if he does it's champers. ... not that he'd never ever order it at a bar. Only the good stuff for K.

Anyway, so they blipped my radar for a millisecond. I went back to my people watching. Then the ring leader came over and said, "You know, you remind me of this guy that used to gogo dance at the Detour years ago."

And of course, I did dance there years ago. They had this little stage over the doorway with chains hooked from the ceiling to the stage floor to keep you from falling off and killing yourself.

Now I won't say I was very good, but I will say I was entertaining. I got more than a few compliments. I did love licking those chains.

So the ring leader and I laughed. He bought me a glass of champagne and introduced me to the group. Interesting bunch, creative types, designers, etc. We chatted a moment. They moved on.

And then I went home. How funny that someone, anyone, could place me as that twenty-something kid dancing his slutty ass off in a dark dive bar. Now if I can just get people to remember me for something other than my slutty ass.

... or at least "in addition to" my slutty ass.

Love, kittens, and butterflies,
TheWholeHumanRace