Get Yer Pride On
Yesterday was Gay Pride - the 25th in Toronto. I'll blog about it at length later, but for now this is the only pic I took with my phone. So I'll post it here, it's (obviously) Eric and Steve at the BBQ we went to on Saturday. THere are lots more pics to be seen from the digi-cam, and I'll get them up soon too.
(**on another note, regarding the streaker at the company event post belowWhat I meant to make clear was two things: 1. I did NOT see said streaker, but have it on good authority that it occured. and 2. It is not the same person who streaks, but rather a number of people have done this.**)
Winning Streak
With my new job I have rushed home to tell my friends about the weird shit that goes on, only to be faced with a knowing smile and a nod as they say "Ah, welcome to the crazy world of work, Mark." As 4 years of freelance has meant that i've forgotten what it is really like. Well today, I'm going to tell you a story that frankly beggars belief, and I challenge ANYONE to say "Ah, that's pretty much normal in professional services." or some other such thing.
Yesterday we launched a book. It's a history of the company that we paid some hack to write. We had the swank 53rd floor of the building, spectacular view, nice hors d'oeurves, and a jazz trio. Oh and an open bar. Remember that fact as it features later in the story (or at least I think it does.) I left at 5 as soon as the speeches are over. I'm not enough of a boozy or young enough to be wooed by an open bar anymore - if it means staying with coworkers and other such types. But later on, at around 6.30 (the event started at 4), someone an emplyee of the firm, took off his clothes and streaked through the roomwearing NOTHING.
Yes, consider that. Someone streaked. Naked, Nekkid, Nude, Butt-Ass, Starkers. *sigh*. But you really want to know the strange thing? The truly odd, crazy fact? IT IS NOT THE FIRST TIME SOMEONE HAS DONE THIS!!!
Christmas Through the Eyes of a Newfie
Today I met up with a friend who's in from out of town for Pride. Normally about this time I'm jaded and bored with it. The theme this year is Pride25 for the 25th anniversary, and even though I haven't been at every one of them, it certainly feels like it. But today we did as we have come to do these last few years with my friend when he's in town, we went to the balcony overlooking Church street at Lub. There was an underwear show at Cafe California accross the road. The boys paraded out and up on a makeshift stage in various 2xist undies. It was quite lovely. Above them a couple of well-muscled boys peeked at the show from the balcony of the Steamworks bath-house. Through all this Paul was very vocal, hooting and hollering, trying to get the boys' attention (and succeeding). This was after flying in this morning and heading downtown for a haircut. My friend managed to get a handjob and a massage (not necissarily in that order) from his HAIRDRESSER, and then head off to the Spa for a bit of fun. This is a man who is in Toronto for 2 weeks a year and so doesn't waste any time with it clearly.
So we're at Lub, having a cocktail, watching cute boys in underpants, and other cute boys in towels on a balcony, and I got, I dunno a sense of something valuable in this long weekend debauchery, something that we can easily forget, i guess when we live in gomorroah (practicing sodomy).
So yah like the title, it's easy to see the beauty in the holiday when you see it through the eyes of a visiting newfie
Something Funny
You ever find yourself halfway through something funny and you just can't make it work? Like you're saying something, and you think you're going to make the joke land, but then you just blow it? I was writing something today and that's pretty much what happened.
So instead of that, you get this, brief, boring blog entry. I'll write more tomorrow I promise.
A different demographic
Years ago when i was in my early 20s (and just typing that makes me fuckikng depressed - however I digress) well it was years and I was in my early 20s there were a bunch of guys, a certain demographic of our peers - that we didn't understand. These were guys our age who didn't like guys our age. They liked "older" guys. From my perspective i couldn't understand it. Why would you like old guys who just weren't as cute and sexy as we were. I just didn't get it. And to be honest i still don't.
But a few months ago I was at Asian Xpress (a bar night now twice a month put on by some guys in the Asian community for those that are and those that like 'em - it made more sense when it was called OrientXpress but that was before someone decided that we can't call people Oriental, only rugs) I met a guy. (Whew long parenthetical eh?) Actually I met two guys that night, one I'd seen around a bit, and who'd actually given me his number about a year before, and another new one that night. The first fella, Joseph is his name, and I were talking about his 'type' (in reference to a guy he was then seeing). And he said, in response to the question what his type would be "well, you". Later that night another guy hit on me with all the subtlety of a tipsy 21 year old. And I swear the two of them weren't a day over 21.
Tonight I was on in gay.com. I hadn't realised that I was past the point of going out, and was in leftover time. And that was proven by the guy i DIDN'T go out to meet. He's 23, and UTTERLY FUCKING HOT, i have sent a pic to Heipel, who will verify this. This kid is .....
DROP
DEAD
GORGEOUS!
And when we got to the "what are you into?" part of the chat his answer (charming wee bastard) was "Older guys."
So what i realised that night at AX last year and again tonight was, I am now one of the guys that 21 year olds chase after. Those same 21 year olds that baffled me when i was 21.
Problem is, I still don't get it.
The names have been changed......
Ok, so Hamish & Steve, I have changed the names at your sound suggestion. I'm now calling them Muffin and the Lioness.
Blog from the Belly of the Beast
So aside from that little fuckup detailed below, and it was little, things have been movin' and shakin' here these last few days. It turns out we all work for a crazy person. I knew that kinda, but it's becoming abundantly clear exactly HOW crazy she is. She and my boss had a big ol' fight. and not the first one. the aftermath of that fight is what's interesting though. For one thing its not clear exactly how long Muffin (crazy bitch) is going keep the Lioness (my boss) around, nor how long the Lioness will put up with Muffin. So losing the Lioness would be a huge blow to the whole fucking thing. not to mention that my position would become way less secure if she did leave.
another fallout from the meeting/fight was that it became clear from what Lise said that she has at least two informants in the department. And I know also that some relatively innocent comments i made have been reported back to Lise and used against Debbie. Oh what a tangled web we weave. The irony of course is that the informant is someone i was considering my friend and who I've gotten (I thought) close to. Seems she has an agenda of her own and that includes getting in good with the crazy woman. It's a pity that now i have to be careful what I say. Speaking of which, there is one reader of my blog who knows someone who works here. So to you (initials A.L.) please do NOT speak of this to that person, because that person is the person i'm speaking of.
I'm not worried or queasy about this shit. I actually have hope that it may turn out well. I have a suspicion in fact that the crazy one is on the way out. now the problem with that is that she probably knows it too and what kinda damage she'll do as they drag her to the door is worrisome.
oh and why didn't any of you tell me about this when i was thinking of taking this job????
geez.
From Bad To Worse
Ah Life!
Yesterday we sent out a firm-wide email (plus 63 clients) with two typos. This was totally and entirely my fault. Too much to do and not enough attention paid to the details. The thing of course is that it was sent out on behalf of a lawyer who is now monumentally pissed that he looks like he can't write. I don't blame him one bit. At this point it was merely a shit-storm and we could survive. My boss's boss was pissed and cranky and i was apologizing to anyone who'd listen. One thing that Landmark has taught me is the art of the sincere apology. Anyway so today I'm dealing with this thing and in so doing i ask a co-worker to send me a link to the offending publication. She did and addressed it to "Sparky" (my office nickname I guess). Now can you guess where this is going? Yup, she sent that email to THE LAWYER! Who promptly responded "Since when am I 'Sparky'?" Ah so bad to worse. That's the day that I'm having.
Oh, and yesterday I posted an old thing I wrote about dentistry right? And then after i was watching tv and eating potato chips and guess what? I broke a tooth. So that's fun and all. It's in moments like this that i really do beleive in god. Problem is, I don't like him very much.
Proto-Blog
This is a story/diary entry i wrote once a few years ago. it's crept into my head as a 'story' even though it was just a stream of blah-blah thing that I did one day after this actually happened to me. I was thinking of it today when a woman I work with asked to see some stuff that I've written. I showed her this. It occured to me that this is very like the kinda writing I end up doing (or trying to do) on my blog. But it was written a couple of years back way before there was a blog thing at all.
anyway enough pre-amble. read it. it'll stave off having to blog for a few days.
Preparing for my own death.
I had a dentist appointment today. Root Canal. That is about as uncomfortable as it sounds. I don�t like dentist visits. For about 3 years I didn�t go at all. But I figured that as much as I didn�t like it, the fact was, my teeth would fall out if I didn�t go. But I found a good dentist and I�ve started going. It hasn�t really done me a lot of good. I�m pretty sure I�m stumping him at every turn. The last three times I�ve been to see him he�s been convinced that I wouldn�t have any cavities. Each time he�s been wrong. Remember that ad for toothpaste that had the guy dip the piece of blackboard chalk into a glass of blue liquid (hopefully not the same blue liquid that they use to advertise maxi-pads)? After, he�d pull it out and snap the chalk to show you how much liquid it had absorbed. My teeth are made from that chalk. 32 cavities last time.
Anyway, root canal day. I became convinced this morning that I would die or become horribly disfigured as a result of the anesthetic or something. I think we�re all gripped by these paranoias at times. At least I hope we all are or I need help. So I set about, fatalistically, preparing for the event. So I made sure that I put on nice underpants. Calvin boxer briefs. Clean clothes. I made sure that I poo�d. I�ve heard all sorts of stories of people crapping themselves when they expire. I figured I�d avoid that if I went before hand. I might as well have some dignity in death. I had a nice breakfast, lamented that I didn�t have a cigarette to smoke (hey if you�re going to die you might as well), and I left for the dentist�s office.
On the way I read more of Torch Song Trilogy. I�ve been re-reading a few favourite plays of mine to prime the pump for a play I want to start. Now that I was on my way to dying, it was more a thing of just reading something that I enjoy � and I know how it ends. Could you imagine dying before you finish your book?
So I�m on the subway and I begin noticing things around me. Thinking �what image do I want to take with me into my afterlife�? I just became more aware of my surroundings. I noticed the cute Chinese guy with his girlfriend. Well cute until he smiled and I saw a lifetime of unflouridated water and bad diet. (Teeth � theme for the day). I saw an old Italian woman clutching a cloth tote bag on her lap. It was blue and her flabby arms � skin like filo pastry � covered the logo of whatever company had given it to her. But I could see their tagline and the address. �Come Experience the World�s Best!� and an address on Woodbine in Markham. I doubted the world�s best anything could be found in Markham.
I�m feeling pretty brave at this point. Considering I�m facing my own death. And make no mistake I�ve got myself convinced that I will die today � and that it will be spectacular. I make it to Spadina Stn. without getting maudlin. But as I wait for the streetcar I start to consider the people in my life and whether the last conversation I had with them would be one I�d want to be my last conversation. For most of them I�m cool. None of them were particularly insightful or very, well, final. But they�ll do.
Alexis and I spoke about her house getting broken into and how after her car getting robbed, her house burgled and her job �downsized� it was time to buy a lottery ticket, as her luck has got to change.
My last contact with Steve was to get him a blind date. And if my legacy is that Steve gets more sex, then the continuity of that leaves me satisfied.
Hame and I talked about the frustrations of jobs. Or rather not having them. To paraphrase Harvey Firestein, our problem is being happy and employed. It�s our problem because we�ve never been happy and employed. Happy � yes. Employed � frequently. But never the twain have met. We were both funny to each other and while the rest of the world sees jokes, to Hame and I that is water, air and food.
And with Eric, we talked about how he has a brutal, not fun meeting today with practically every manager and supervisor at work. Between us we couldn�t figure out if my root canal or his meeting was worse. Both of us wished the other luck.
I get to the dentist and one of his geisha brings me in. They�re really dental hygienists, but they�re Asian, quiet to the point of being mute, and they take small steps.
Dr. Kwan freezes me up and explains the procedure. After a few minutes, when I�m supposed to be numb he asks me:
�Ready?�
�Well my face is numb but I can feel my gums� of course I�m slurring and squinting like Jean Chretien on a Pernod jag.
�Oh�. So he gives me another dose of Novocain.
Ten minutes later he comes back in. I�m pretty sloppy by this point, I�m holding a tissue up to my face to stop the drooling.
�Okay.� He says. He pulls out the spikey thing and starts poking, demonstrating where I�m frozen. �See you can feel this [non frozen side poke], but you can�t feel this [frozen side poke]�
�Ow.�
�You feel this?� Poke again.
�Yes�
�Oh.� More juice. Lots more drugs. Then for the first time in my life, I�m actually getting dental work done without any pain at all!!! Now you need to understand the momentous import of this. I�ve always been in pain when I�ve gone to a dentist. Always. This one was pain free. Well not entirely pain free. While I was technically numb, and didn�t feel any discomfort (funny how excruciating, searing pain can be described as �discomfort�), I did however have a great deal to contend with.
I could hear the drilling, grinding, scraping, planing, filing, spritzing, lathing, pulling, ripping, wrenching, poking, filling, smoothing of the root canal. 45 minutes of some of the worst sounds imaginable. Not the least of which was the Greatest Hits of The Carpenters, which was playing on the stereo.
Let me say, with certainty borne of experience, that the last, and I do mean LAST song you ever want to hear while a dentist grinds your tooth is �We�ve Only Just Begun�.
So while I didn�t die, I�m pretty sure I visited hell.
