Saturday, June 11, 2005
In the summertime
You got grillin', you got grilin' on your mind
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
HOWTO: ask out a guy of uncertain orientation
I'm going to present to you a scenario, like an SAT reading comprehension task, and you're going to tell me what I should do. Predictably, it begins along the lines of, "There's this guy..."
I go to school with someone I've thought many times about asking out. He's a charmer, undoubtedly, but reserved and quiet to a remarkable degree. I've restrained myself for the past several months because of the simple fact that I've assumed him to be straight; though I don't consider it a social taboo to ask someone's orientation without propmting, it hasn't propmted many happy responses in the past and, as a result, I kind of consider asking the question akin to burning a bridge (whether the respondent is gay or straight).
Regardless, over the weekend I was asked if I would join a gay and lesbian DC softball league with a friend. While flipping through the small pamphlet of papers that I'd been handed on the subject, I was making a game of mocking members of all of the teams, theatrically lisping batting line-ups from the team rosters of some previous season of play. I stop mid fucking syllable when I start reading a name that sounds strikingly familiar... and I realize, holy shit, that's him!
The name, my friend pointed out, is relatively unique, but this is a large, dense chunk of the country where statistic uniqueness is less significant. I point of that it's a DC league for DC/MD/VA metro residents, so maybe the case is stronger in support of this begin the guy I think it is. I also wondered out loud if guy is necessarily gay for playing on a gay rec team (he could have been suckered into it by a friend like I had and just followed to avoid bad blood).
So, shit, I'm back at an ugly intersection. Do I take the bold step, snag this guy at the snack machines during class and floor him with the invitation out (I mean, c'mon, it's pride week!) or err on the safe side, saying nothing and avoiding what might be a very embarrassing situation for a heterosexual sportsman?
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I go to school with someone I've thought many times about asking out. He's a charmer, undoubtedly, but reserved and quiet to a remarkable degree. I've restrained myself for the past several months because of the simple fact that I've assumed him to be straight; though I don't consider it a social taboo to ask someone's orientation without propmting, it hasn't propmted many happy responses in the past and, as a result, I kind of consider asking the question akin to burning a bridge (whether the respondent is gay or straight).
Regardless, over the weekend I was asked if I would join a gay and lesbian DC softball league with a friend. While flipping through the small pamphlet of papers that I'd been handed on the subject, I was making a game of mocking members of all of the teams, theatrically lisping batting line-ups from the team rosters of some previous season of play. I stop mid fucking syllable when I start reading a name that sounds strikingly familiar... and I realize, holy shit, that's him!
The name, my friend pointed out, is relatively unique, but this is a large, dense chunk of the country where statistic uniqueness is less significant. I point of that it's a DC league for DC/MD/VA metro residents, so maybe the case is stronger in support of this begin the guy I think it is. I also wondered out loud if guy is necessarily gay for playing on a gay rec team (he could have been suckered into it by a friend like I had and just followed to avoid bad blood).
So, shit, I'm back at an ugly intersection. Do I take the bold step, snag this guy at the snack machines during class and floor him with the invitation out (I mean, c'mon, it's pride week!) or err on the safe side, saying nothing and avoiding what might be a very embarrassing situation for a heterosexual sportsman?
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Hell yes
Thursday, June 9
Mr. Capital Pride Leather contest
9 p.m. at the Eagle
Vegetarian or not, I must admit that leather can be naughty beyond belief. We need to raid this thing.
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Mr. Capital Pride Leather contest
9 p.m. at the Eagle
Vegetarian or not, I must admit that leather can be naughty beyond belief. We need to raid this thing.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Getting older is a simple process of accumulation of experience, I think, sort of like acquiring more RAM with every year. With so many first-person history, one can make references to most anything, recollections, connections, all threading through oneself, and that, dears, reminds us of just how necessary the passage of time is to that accrection process. Last night, Michal, Will and I were batting around the horrors of having young married friends, kids we've taught to swim who are young adults now and so forth.
Ever the sentimentalist, today I can't resist using the blog as a diary best used for turning back pages. I'm blown away by the fact that Crystal Ames (with whome I went to school from pre-K until graduation) became Crystal Scheaffer one year ago yesterday. I remember that weekend so well; I went to several weddings over a four day period, each one more intently celebrated than the last. After Crystal's wedding, everyone erupted in celebration, at multiple spots ion town. I remember beginning at Jake's house, accidentally breaking his roommates bong, and then ending the night on the front porch of a beautiful property in Stift's Station, Little Rock, drinking beer with everytine in creation. The day after was Anita's wedding, followed by a reception with all of our scholarship program friends, plenty of Miller Lite and an eventual tour through the circuit of house parties that resulted. I remember it being almost a hundred degrees and foolishly humid, not to mention locking my keys in my car at around 2 am. In the morning, Steven and I drove out to get the last of his furniture for a move back into Jacksonville in preparation for the grand move to Cleveland for law. We stopped at my car to have it broken into, and Steven ended up knowing the locksmith.
So this is when the feeling old comes in, or at least older. Not only has all of that already happened, but it was a year ago. Jesus, that all feels just a few weeks distant.
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Ever the sentimentalist, today I can't resist using the blog as a diary best used for turning back pages. I'm blown away by the fact that Crystal Ames (with whome I went to school from pre-K until graduation) became Crystal Scheaffer one year ago yesterday. I remember that weekend so well; I went to several weddings over a four day period, each one more intently celebrated than the last. After Crystal's wedding, everyone erupted in celebration, at multiple spots ion town. I remember beginning at Jake's house, accidentally breaking his roommates bong, and then ending the night on the front porch of a beautiful property in Stift's Station, Little Rock, drinking beer with everytine in creation. The day after was Anita's wedding, followed by a reception with all of our scholarship program friends, plenty of Miller Lite and an eventual tour through the circuit of house parties that resulted. I remember it being almost a hundred degrees and foolishly humid, not to mention locking my keys in my car at around 2 am. In the morning, Steven and I drove out to get the last of his furniture for a move back into Jacksonville in preparation for the grand move to Cleveland for law. We stopped at my car to have it broken into, and Steven ended up knowing the locksmith.
So this is when the feeling old comes in, or at least older. Not only has all of that already happened, but it was a year ago. Jesus, that all feels just a few weeks distant.
