Thursday, January 02, 2003

Well, I think the roommate issue is somewhat resolved. One of my Jen's (not blogger Jen, not New Mexico Jen, not Peace Corps Jen, not Jen from my school, not Jen from my university program, or my first kiss ever Jen, but yoga wild hair Jen) connected me with their friend Andrew (not Andy or Andrew or Andy from Texas or Andrew from Peace Corps).

He's a good guy. Photographer, yoga and bicycle fan, taller than Abraham Lincoln. Seems steady and fun. Being a photographer, he will replace Daniel as my fashion arbiter. Being a yoga fan, we will check out the new yoga place down the street. Being tall, straight, and nice, my single straight female friends will rip out each other's intestines when they meet him.
It was a very chaste kiss. No tongue.

Wednesday, January 01, 2003

The dawn of another new year. I went to the local neighborhood party at one of the local lofts, it was rather fun. I had other ideas, but plans failed, cell phones didn't work, and I just haven't had the energy to organize anything myself. Lori has a pool table, a kegerator, and a penchant for cats. While I was there, I tried some special cookies, again no effect. I'm immune. At midnight, kissed Sonya, one of the local girls.

It's two in the afternoon, I still haven't showered or shaved, and I still have to do all sorts of lesson plans and junk. I'm watching Linklater's Waking Life, responding to emails, procrastinating. I want to just go back to sleep, I need to go over to Life Cafe to get some work done.

So I forgot to describe my semi-Christmas. I went down to DC, spent the 23rd and 24th on the eastern side of Maryland in a great farmhouse in the country. I love adding depth to a person you know by seeing their childhood environment. Jim S grew up near Oxford, MD, this beautiful idyllic town. I learned all sorts of great things. Lightning has struck the inside of his old house, cooking everything inside the refrigerator. His youngest brother who looks to be the oldest hunts animals.

I am so jazzed about beaver. We're having breakfast Christmas Eve, Jim's sister and bro-in-law are keeping me caffeinated, and Jim's youngest brother brings over all these goose decoys. He then mentions that they are having problems with beaver down on the local pond. Everyone knows how much I love beaver! I've never seen beaver in the wild, so I went stalking it while Jim took a shower. I saw a lot of evidence, but the shrewd and wily beaver stayed hidden. We drove back to DC that evening, watched the Poseidon Adventure, and the next morning I took the bus back to NYC. Christmas Day was pretty much a non-event, but I went drinking with friends later. It was good. I just really wish I had seen that beaver.

Monday, December 30, 2002

I STILL NEED A ROOMMATE. I STILL NEED A ROOMMATE. I STILL NEED A ROOMMATE. TELL YOUR FRIENDS.
While dropping off my videos today, bumped into John Cameron Mitchell. Seemed nice, although a bit short.
I NEED A ROOMMATE. I NEED A ROOMMATE. I NEED A ROOMMATE.
My whole life I wanted a big brother. I knew that my sadistic parents had simply shipped him off, both enjoying my suffering at the hands of my sisty uglers. I just didn’t know that I would get a bevy of adopted brothers, guys that I now can say that I love. My new family stretches from coast to coast, tied together by horrifying moving trips, rough times, shared bathrooms, and fart jokes. Brian N is my musically talented brother, my mental opposite, drifting around whimsically and terrifyingly when it comes to bank accounts and lanes on the freeway. I love him. Evan is my brother I can always count on, to bring down the garage in the perfectly wrong direction, barbeque the perfect ‘beer up the ass chicken,’ or to sit quietly on the porch having a good beer. I love him too. Dave and my new sister-in-law Erin are there when I have to join the underground, ready with a fake identity, a Kiss costume, and a shovel. I love them also.

I’d never had a big brother until I came here to NYC. Dan’s the cool older brother that I always wanted. He negotiates every conversation with ease, always makes people feel good about themselves, and let’s me feel not only is it okay to be who I am, it could even be cool. Even better, he’s the ubercool brother who lets me hang with his friends. He’s the older brother I get to ask questions about sex. Hell, I started this silly blog because of him. I get to be the comic book sidekick, without all the stupid homoerotic overtones. So what the heck happens when the hero leaves? Do I change the costume, start my own comic franchise? Maybe ScooterBoy? A gay hero that races around on a souped up Vespa, doing superrenovations to homos in need…

I’m going to miss him a lot. He won’t live that far away, but the distance will grow. It’s the same with my other brothers, and my sisters. I miss the daily communication, the familiarity. I know I can pick up the phone or hang out, but it will be different than yelling across the loft, asking if something matches, or watching Buffy together, or laughing at each other’s escapades.