Life is short and so am I...

FYI... the bulk of my journal is viewable to friends only. I've included a few open posts below as a bit of a "sampler" but I keep my journal closed for the most part. If you would like to be included send me a note to say hey and introduce yourself. I'm always up for getting to know new folks :)
cheers!

Ok… it only took a month but here are some pics from the cruise last month. I took none of them. No wait, that’s not true. I took the one’s that don’t have people in them… the cave pic and the Curacao bridge pic LOL the rest… I think most came from dhbearguy and who knows who else.

I’m putting them behind a cut since there are quite a few. They should be mostly work safe except for shirtless guys and a very nasty looking towel animal LOL

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It turned out to be quite the busy weekend. Lunch with Bill Friday was nice. And we only talked about David 5 - 10 minutes at most. Otherwise it was just a pleasant lunch catching up with one of my oldest friends.

I ended up having a very quiet Friday night at home since Bob was working, but his night was crazy busy... he gave 10 HIV tests, a record for him for one night, so he was pretty beat when he got home at 8:30 :P

We started off Saturday morning with a text from my boss saying she just woke up in bed with Bob next to her. I was like WTF? And the realized she was talking about the "little" news article that Bob had been interviewed for a couple weeks back.

I went to 7-11 to grab a paper and was pretty suprised when when I got there… there Bob was, front page, above the fold, for the world to see with the headline Aging with AIDS LOL OMG… we totally didn’t expect this to be a front page story...


The full article is linked here…
http://www.mercurynews.com/health/ci_22802839/aging-aids-surviving-struggle

It was a really nicely done article and finally I got quoted in the paper where I didn’t either get misquoted or had something taken out of context making me look dumb LOL But Bob… his part of it all came out thoroughly great.

It’s amazing to me to think about it. Besided the obvious "wow, we're both still alive thing", 10 years ago I would have been mortified… for all the neighbors, and friends, and the world, to see that Bob has AIDS, and we were gay, and all of that. In the 90s it probably would have been an issue but not near as much now. Still, it’s pretty damn brave to be that open.

We spent much of Saturday doing chore type stuff, and fielding “I saw Bob in the paper” comments, texts and calls. Even my accountant and his wife (who haven't even met Bob) mentioned it when I ran by their office to pick up my taxes. When I asked how they even knew it was "my" Bob they said "Bob R and Phil H living in Saratoga partnered for 21 years... it wasn't a difficult leap to figure it out" LOL... I guess there is no hiding even if we wanted to at this point LOL

After a chore filled Saturday afternoon I made us dinner Saturday night and then we went out to Renegades for the monthly underwear party. I had a nice time but was suprised that I really only knew a couple of people. It was a very different group than usual. And SO young... I felt kinda old! LOL… and imagine how Bob felt, especially after I turned to him and said “gosh, I wonder how many people recognize you as the old guy with AIDS from the paper today”. He laughed and called me a jerk. I’m such a brat sometimes. :)

Yesterday I made us bisquits and gravy for breakfast and then we went to the mall and did some clothes shopping for Bob, he needed it. Then spent part of the afternoon visiting our friends Ty and Tim. It was a good day and plenty relaxing.

And now it seems impossible but we’re starting another work week. They just keep zooming by.

Hope you all had a great weekend!

So… in watching guys at the gym the last few years I have decided that guys workout style totally reflects their sex style.

My fave of late is Grimace “left eye” McGrimace… I’m absolutely convinced the grimace-y face he makes as he pulls the weights is exactly the face he makes when he’s fucking. Determined, teeth bared, left eye crossing ever so slightly and making a quiet grunt as he methodically does each rep. He’s in control. He’s slow and steady. He works a little harder with each pump as he grimaces and that eye crosses just a little more until that last rep where his body is so tight and struggle-y and he looks like he’s about to burst. It’s HOT! I love watching him work out.

George Jefferson… he walks around the gym all cocksure and strutty, you know… ummm like George Jefferson on the Jeffersons. He spends massive amounts of time strutting around and talking… starting out conversations with a fist bump and “Yo!”, but… but… I’ve never seen him touch a weight. I bet he doesn’t get laid either. He prolly walks the walk in the singles bar, fist bumps and “yo’s” a lot but can never land a babe cause he’s spending so much time making sure he looks like he’s 2 kool 4 skool.

Speedy Gonzalez… he attacks the weights with speed and little thought for form or style. Rep1rep2rep3rep4rep5rep6rep7rep8… he’s just doing it as fast and hard as he can. He’s done and moved on before I really know he was there.

Zen master… he approaches the machines slowly and I swear he does a little prayer beforehand, or maybe that is stretching of some sort. His eyes are closed, he’s clearly working to achieve nirvana. He grabs the handle of the weight machine and runs his fingers over it trying to get just the perfect grip. He takes forever to finish his set as he is *one* with the machine and is aware of every movement he makes. He looks good but I find myself always bored waiting for him to finish up and go.

Little Mouse just sort of timidly comes up to the machine and very sort of just piff piff piffs through it. He’s a tiny little thing, scurrying about from machine to machine. You kind of know he’s there, doing sort of cute little half reps. He’s in and out and you’d hardly even known he was ever there except for that itty bitty bit of sweat or something left behind.

Big Ass Steroid Muscle Freak… he’s loud. He makes sure *everyone* in the gym knows just how hard he is pumping. He goes all out and goes max weight on everything… he watches himself in the mirror and strains hard and grunts and groans really really loud, interspersed with OH YEAH, THAT’S IT, YEAH YEAH ***GRUNTGROWLGRUNT*** YEEEEEEAAAAAH!!!!!!! He’s sort of hot in a testosterone muscle ape sort of way and he clearly has something to prove. Oh, and he also has an ittttty bitttttty little dick, based on my previous completely scientific observations.

Spaz… he’s like a little epileptic with the weights. *Total* spaz, like… is that a weight machine, or did you accidentally hook up to an electric chair? He’s always contorted in to all sorts of weird ummm… contortions, even when the machine is a basic “sit up straight and push this” sort of thing. Sometimes when he is going at it, totally spazzing and contorting, I kind of want to go over and stick a piece of wood (not mine) or something in his mouth just to make sure he doesn’t swallow his tongue.

So yeah… many different types to watch… some very very hot, some very very not… and I’m sure their workouts match the way they have sex… I’m sure of it.

Wait... me? my workout style? it kind of goes back and forth between two types…

On my good days I’m confident, in control, doing what feels right and careful not to hurt myself… slow and steady wins the race… that’s me! Me and the Pointer Sisters loving that slow hand and easy touch… However, I usually stop before I’m really done cause ultimately I’m just kinda lazy and the initial rush of the machine has already faded, and I’m prolly hungry or need to go to the bathroom.

Other times I’m not so much on my game and all low esteem-y… you know, sort of all… rep 1… rep 2… hmmmmm, I don’t think this machine likes me. I bet this machine totally just settled to let me use it. Sigh, I’m sure it wishes that hot muscle guy over there would come and use it instead… god, why am I here? oh wait, ummmm rep 5… rep 6… am I doing this right? I don’t think I’m doing this right. This isn’t working. I hate this. Pfft… this machine is totally not into me… rep 8… ow… OWWW!!! Easy there cowboy… rep 9… hmmm… I wonder what I should have for dinner tonight… oh man, I hope this machine isn’t going to want to stay and keep working out all night. Ummmm… I’m meeting friends for dinner, that’s it! Rep 10… ok, I’m done, can I go now?

:)

Seems like lately I've heard quite a few people say they disenchanted with/less interested in/are not getting what they want from Live Journal. Makes sense, was a new fun technology and especially the early birds could easily be getting over it. But, I've been thinking a bit about what exactly LJ is to me as a whole and had one of those wonderful dawning realizations as to (at least part of) why I enjoy it so much.

I love Fannie Flagg, her books, her stories of small town life in the 40s, Fried Green Tomatoes, Welcome to the World Baby Girl, Standing in the Rainbow, etc. The world was so different then, people sat on their front porch and chatted with whoever came by. Some were closer than others, some aquaintences built in to friendships. Neighbor Dorothy always had some advice, or cookies on the table for whoever would drop in. Front porches were where in the best of times people laughed and talked and told stories and gossiped and shoe'd away the flies. And in times of tragedy, whether it was the loss of a loved one, or just plain their cookies burned in the oven, there were always some people there out on their porches to offer everything from a happy wave hello as you walked by, to a hug of support, or to listen. So much of life in town happened on front porches it seems. Of course, I know Fannie Flaggs accounts are fictionalized, perfect and pretty images of what the world was at the time, but I *know* that old front porch was a place of magic, I know it! Then the world changed. Everyone went inside. Everyone had screen doors to keep the flies out of the house, and air conditioners to keep it cooler inside than out. The becon call of television brought people inside too and the world changed and now most houses aren't even built with front porches any longer.

So this morning it stuck me while thinking about LJ, that *that* is what LJ is to me. Maybe to nobody else, but to me, it's my front porch. People come by here and there, wave hello as they wander by, stop by and share some laughs or support. There is flirting and serious talk and gossip, and sometimes just plain sillyness. All out on this new world wide front porch of LJ. And then there are all these other people with LJ's and front porches, and I can do the same, dropping by time to time and enjoying their hospitality. Some people come by a lot, some only on a rare occasion, and some not at all but ultimately all are welcome even that crazy old coot that you never quite understand what he's trying to say or the new guy in town who is trying to start life anew.

For me... it's just a desire for a simpler world I think. Where ultimately we are still all small town folk at heart, and just reach out to each other human to human. I know I don't get enough of that in the real world. For a while now I've been dissing LJ and whining how pitiful I am that it is almost my entire social life in many ways, but you know, it's not so bad and is certainly working for me. I'm sure I'll get bored with it at some point. I'll go in and close my doors and flip on the tv, or whatever the next nifty new thing is. But for now... I'm perfectly happy sitting out here on my porch saying hey to all those who wanna come by and sit a spell.

Hope you all have a wonderful new year, thanks for dropping in :)

oh, a quick edit... Neighbor pagerbear has duly corrected me... it is beck and call not becon call. Yay for smart folks on the porch :)