Saturday, December 08, 2007

Trop de seins (Too many titties)


Ummm... Yeah. I'm sure you're shocked to: a) see a posting from me after nearly eight months and b) read that a gay man thinks there are too many boobs in the fabulous "horredy" - that's horror + comedy - Blood Car. I'm shocked that you're a) reading my blog, as after all, I tend to abandon it until it whines at me like a puppy at the back door, waiting to come back in after being forgotten for... well, eight months. Seriously, I don't think I ever had any "readers", but it's still fun to write from time to time. I have creative juices (minds out of the gutter, kiddies), and they need to be let out (à la Cat Stevens - I can't keep it in). Let's start a new paragraph without sexual innuendo.

If you love the horredy genre, you simply must watch Blood Car, a film my best friend Anita and I saw at the Sidewalk Film Festival in Birmingham, Alabama in September. It was a runaway hit with the audience, who had stayed up late and skipped the first part of that night's after-party in order to take in the flick about a vegan kindergarten teacher who is in passionate pursuit of a solution to the gas price crisis and accidentally discovers that blood will run a gasoline engine. This film violates every filming rule, breaks every social more, and will have you picking your jaw up from your living room floor once you get past the audacious film maker's take on our unnecessary dependence on oil. Oh - and the vegan kindergarten teacher is a sex maniac. There - ready to watch yet??

I ended up crushing on the lead actor, Mike Brune, while watching the movie, and by sheer coincidence met him in person at the after-party later that evening. In continuing the Blood Car tradition of violation, I broke my own "if-I-ever-meet-a-famous-person-I-won't -choke-on-my-words-and-say-something-stupid" rule. Let's just say that my performance was by far outdone by Mr. Brune, whom I left standing alone because I was too sheepish and bumbling to stay and risk saying anything else that would betray my graduate education. Nothing less than a gentleman, Mike personally responded to an email I later sent to compliment him on his performance in the movie and wish him well in his film career.

Oh yeah - the boobs. If fun bags scare you, don't watch this movie. There are plenty of unnecessary and gratuitous shots of them, and if you're a straight male or a lesbian (or impartial, like me), you won't be let down in any sense of the word. I gave Blood Car as Christmas gifts to a few select family members, including my mother, who likes to "preview" (read: unwrap as soon as she sees) her gifts for any occasion. About a half-hour into it, she turned to me, said in an alarmingly casual and familiar tone, "Let's turn this off. There are just too many boobs for me," and then returned her boob-thirsty... er, blood-thirsty eyes to the screen. Thirty minutes later, we had to turn it off because we were exhausted from a day of work. And at that point, I'd seen enough boobs to meet my millennial quota.

Check out The Casual Critic for a more cerebral review than mine. You'll love the site.

Monday, April 30, 2007

Clearly Canadian? Certainement décevant!

My partner and I leave for Nova Scotia this Friday, and are driving the whole way. We had planned on staying in a B&B in Dartmouth, just across the harbor from Halifax, but abandoned plans quickly after the female proprieter asked if I would be staying alone for the week.

"No," I replied, "my partner will be along with me."

Silence on the line.

"Is that a problem?" I asked, bracing for the response.

Another short silence.
"Well...er... no, not really. I mean... uh... well, we do have two children, you know. But that should be okay because we live downstairs and the guest rooms are upstairs. So no, no problems."

"Fine, then." I replied, "I'll make a deal with you: My partner and I won't have sex with or in front of your kids if you promise the same. In addition, we'll restrict our breakfast chit-chat strictly to the weather rather than our favorite sexual positions and how much we can't wait to get our hands on the kids."

Okay, so I wasn't that reciprocally disrespectful, but I did say that we would not be staying with them and hung up. I suppose I didn't expect all Canadians to be liberal and open-minded.

We ended up using Priceline.com and found a three-star hotel in the heart of Halifax for $77/night - a room that normally goes for $150! And to think that the B&B chumps could have had their hands on nearly $700 US - and maybe learned some tolerance. Acceptance would be asking for too much, eh?

Monday, March 12, 2007

Il y a dix ans...

Okay, I’ll bite. Anita borrowed this list from someone named Josh, so I’ll fill it in for myself. It really caused me to take a second look at where time has gone, and it is hard for me to accept that even ten years ago we had already been through nearly two years of college. WOW.

10 Years Ago...
1.) How old were you? 20
2.) Where did you go to school? Auburn University
3.) Where did you work? Harper Residence Hall (as a Desk Assistant) and Camp War Eagle (summer orientation counselor)
4.) Where did you live? Auburn, AL
5.) Where did you hang out? All over the place. Road trips were in, and camping at Mount Cheaha over Memorial Day weekend was the best!
6.) Did you wear glasses? Contacts
7.) Who was your best friend? Anita, Rhea, Addie, Peyton, Jennifer and Chris Milan among others. I had lots of friends ten years ago. Anita and I have always had a very close bond since high school, but were actually a bit estranged at the time because she had gotten married and I didn’t make it home as often.
8.) How many tattoos did you have? None – and never!
9.) How many piercings did you have? None, but I did have piercing envy for a bit.
10.) What car did you drive? 1987 powder blue 2-door Chevy Cavalier, nicknamed The Heart of the Ocean. She set sail for the last time in 2000.
11.) Had you been to a real party? Depends on what “real” means. At the time, I thought so. The future taught me I was mistaken.
12.) Had your heart broken? Many times over… I was not out yet and had plenty of unrequited crushes.
13.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Desperately single.

5 years ago...
1.) How old were you? 25
2.) Where did you go to school? University of South Carolina
3.) Where did you work? Orientation and Testing Services, USC
4.) Where did you live? Columbia, SC
5.) Where did you hang out? My favorite places: The Salty Nut, Delaney’s Irish Pub, the Speak Easy, Revolution, Art Bar… Can you tell I was in grad school? lol
6.) Did you wear glasses? Contacts and glasses
7.) Who was your best friend? Anita, Rhea, Lisa, Becca
8.) Who was your crush? I had a crush on one of my classmates and a new recruit to my program
9.) How many tattoos did you have? still none
10.) How many piercings did you have? still none
11) What car did you drive? 2000 Ford Focus, deep blue, nicknamed Pierre
12.) Had you had your heart broken? Many more times over… I still wasn’t out, but would be the following year.
13.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Single and bitter.

**March 2007**
1.) How old are you? 30
2.) Where do you work? Auburn University
3.) Where do you live? Near Montgomery, AL
4.) Do you wear glasses? Glasses that are out-of-date (the prescription, not the frames! Horn-rimmed is still cool, right?)
5.) Who's your best friend? Rhea, Anita, and Rob
6.) Do you talk to your old friends? I’m so bad about it… No on lives near me, so I hardly see any of my friends anymore. I do miss them!
7.) How many piercings? I think it’s safe to say that this will always be NO.
8.) How many tattoos do you have? Still none.
9.) What kind of car do you have? 2004 Ford Focus, “light tundra” lol, nicknamed Jean-Pierre.
10.) Has your heart been broken? Yes, many more times over, this time from actual relationships, one gone especially bad at the end.
11.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter? Taken and happy! He’s a sweetie and cares very much for me!

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Feeling Jung Again

On Anita's recommendation, I took a derivation of Jung's personality type instrument, and - no surprise - turned out to be ISFJ. Here's the description:

The primary desire of the Protector Guardian is to be of service to others, but here "service" means not so much furnishing others with the necessities of life (the Provider's concern), as guarding others against life's pitfalls and perils, that is, seeing to their safety and security. There is a large proportion of Protectors in the population, perhaps as much as ten percent. And a good thing, because they are steadfast in their protecting, and seem fulfilled in the degree they can insure the safekeeping of those in their family, their circle of friends, or their place of business.
Protectors find great satisfaction in assisting the downtrodden and can deal with disability and neediness in others better than any other type. They go about their task of caretaking modestly, unassumingly, and because of this their efforts are not sometimes fully appreciated. They are not as outgoing and talkative as the Providers, except with close friends and relatives. With these they can chat tirelessly about the ups and downs in their lives, moving (like all the Guardians) from topic to topic as they talk over their everyday concerns. However, their shyness with strangers is often misjudged as stiffness, even coldness, when in truth these Protectors are warm-hearted and sympathetic, giving happily of themselves to those in need.
Their quietness ought really to be seen as an expression, not of coldness, but of their sincerity and seriousness of purpose. Like all the Guardians, Protectors have a highly developed puritan work ethic, which tells them that work is good, and that play must be earned-if indulged in at all. The least hedonic of all types, Protectors are willing to work long, long hours doing all the thankless jobs the other types seem content to ignore. Thoroughness and frugality are also virtues for Protectors. When they undertake a task, they will complete it if at all humanly possible; and they know the value of material resources and abhor the squandering or misuse of these resources. Protectors are quite content to work alone; indeed, they may experience some discomfort when placed in positions of authority, and may try to do everything themselves rather than insist that others do their jobs.
With their extraordinary commitment to security, and with their unusual talent for executing routines, Protectors do well in many careers that have to do with conservation: curators, private secretaries, librarians, middle-managers, police officers, and especially general medical practitioners. To be sure, the hospital is a natural haven for them; it is home to the family doctor, preserver of life and limb, and to the registered nurse, or licensed practical nurse, truly the angels of mercy. The insurance industry is also a good fit for Protectors. To save, to put something aside against an unpredictable future, to prepare for emergencies-these are important actions to Protectors, who as insurance agents want to see their clients in good hands, sheltered and protected.

Here's another interpretation:

ISFJs are characterized above all by their desire to serve others, their "need to be needed." In extreme cases, this need is so strong that standard give-and-take relationships are deeply unsatisfying to them; however, most ISFJs find more than enough with which to occupy themselves within the framework of a normal life. (Since ISFJs, like all SJs, are very much bound by the prevailing social conventions, their form of "service" is likely to exclude any elements of moral or political controversy; they specialize in the local, the personal, and the practical.)
ISFJs are often unappreciated, at work, home, and play. Ironically, because they prove over and over that they can be relied on for their loyalty and unstinting, high-quality work, those around them often take them for granted--even take advantage of them. Admittedly, the problem is sometimes aggravated by the ISFJs themselves; for instance, they are notoriously bad at delegating ("If you want it done right, do it yourself"). And although they're hurt by being treated like doormats, they are often unwilling to toot their own horns about their accomplishments because they feel that although they deserve more credit than they're getting, it's somehow wrong to want any sort of reward for doing work (which is supposed to be a virtue in itself). (And as low-profile Is, their actions don't call attention to themselves as with charismatic Es.) Because of all of this, ISFJs are often overworked, and as a result may suffer from psychosomatic illnesses.
In the workplace, ISFJs are methodical and accurate workers, often with very good memories and unexpected analytic abilities; they are also good with people in small-group or one-on-one situations because of their patient and genuinely sympathetic approach to dealing with others. ISFJs make pleasant and reliable co-workers and exemplary employees, but tend to be harried and uncomfortable in supervisory roles. They are capable of forming strong loyalties, but these are personal rather than institutional loyalties; if someone they've bonded with in this way leaves the company, the ISFJ will leave with them, if given the option. Traditional careers for an ISFJ include: teaching, social work, most religious work, nursing, medicine (general practice only), clerical and and secretarial work of any kind, and some kinds of administrative careers.
While their work ethic is high on the ISFJ priority list, their families are the centers of their lives. ISFJs are extremely warm and demonstrative within the family circle--and often possessive of their loved ones, as well. When these include Es who want to socialize with the rest of the world, or self-contained ITs, the ISFJ must learn to adjust to these behaviors and not interpret them as rejection. Being SJs, they place a strong emphasis on conventional behavior (although, unlike STJs, they are usually as concerned with being "nice" as with strict propriety); if any of their nearest and dearest depart from the straight-and-narrow, it causes the ISFJ major embarrassment: the closer the relationship and the more public the act, the more intense the embarrassment (a fact which many of their teenage children take gleeful advantage of). Over time, however, ISFJs usually mellow, and learn to regard the culprits as harmless eccentrics :-). Needless to say, ISFJs take infinite trouble over meals, gifts, celebrations, etc., for their loved ones--although strong Js may tend to focus more on what the recipient should want rather than what they do want.
Like most Is, ISFJs have a few, close friends. They are extremely loyal to these, and are ready to provide emotional and practical support at a moment's notice. (However, like most Fs they hate confrontation; if you get into a fight, don't expect them to jump in after you. You can count on them, however, run and get the nearest authority figure.) Unlike with EPs, the older the friendship is, the more an ISFJ will value it. One ISFJ trait that is easily misunderstood by those who haven't known them long is that they are often unable to either hide or articulate any distress they may be feeling. For instance, an ISFJ child may be reproved for "sulking," the actual cause of which is a combination of physical illness plus misguided "good manners." An adult ISFJ may drive a (later ashamed) friend or SO into a fit of temper over the ISFJ's unexplained moodiness, only afterwards to explain about a death in the family they "didn't want to burden anyone with." Those close to ISFJs should learn to watch for the warning signs in these situations and take the initiative themselves to uncover the problem.

These two articles describe me and my inner workings only too accurately. If you want to take the test, check out this link.

Monday, January 29, 2007

A Week Without Worry

My friend Anita got me to thinking what I would do if I had an entire week to myself - without the thought of having to go back to work on the eighth day, without the stress of the "shouldas," without the phone ringing off the hook. It reminded me of what she used to tell me when I was going through rough times (many times over), which basically boiled down to the advice that if I took care of my personal yearnings, explored some hobbies, read a few books and played a few dusty video games, that I would feel better for having taken care of myself. Given that week, and assuming that I cannot involve anyone else in what I do (though I would most certainly want my beau and my Anita alongside), here's what I'd do:
  1. Write a short story. I used to write all the time in high school and at the beginning of college, and used to be fairly good at spinning a cheesy yarn. The advent of college and graduate papers - and now constantly having to grade them - has kept me from this passion.
  2. Go camping. I've been yearning to spend some time outdoors lately, in communion with nature and her sounds and smells. I am always most at peace when I am most connected with the environment or have access to natural wonders, which is why I feel that Arizona was, in so many ways, a great fit for me that I chanced upon at the wrong time.
  3. Go hiking. Related to number two, hiking is great exercise and a way to be in contact with nature at once. I took myself hiking in Birmingham a few months ago, and really was able to relax at a level I rarely experience.
  4. Play some old school video games. I've had a hankering to pull out the old Amiga 2000 the last few months, and I just haven't made the time (or room) to do it. I miss getting lost trying to save the Lemmings.
  5. Read a few novels. Among the new ones I have yet to read (Harry Potter 6), I've wanted to reread a few of the classics (A Tale of Two Cities, Les Miserables, The Count of Monte Cristo, Confessions of Felix Krull). They always spark my imagination.
  6. Make a sinful dessert. And eat it all. I've had a craving for chocolate and cherries lately, and though I don't necessarily need them together, both would be nice additions to my post-meal enjoyment. I attempted to satisfy the cherry craving the other night by brining along a Wal-Mart cherry pie to a friend's house for dinner, but since all people who shop at Wal-Mart are apparently suffering from insulin issues, none of the pies available contained any sugar. Point of advice: Pies need sugar. Don't buy a sugar-free pie and think that the taste will remotely match the sight.
  7. Sleep without worrying I might miss something. I'm always starting awake thinking that something is going on that would be more fun than laying in bed, no matter how cozy I am in the sheets.

The wonderful thing is that I don't need to have a full week off to do any of these things, and have managed to chip away at a few of them every now and again. I feel better each time I indulge myself, and must work harder to treat myself mentally. These things are activities I have always enjoyed, and ought not be forgotten.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Supper Club Haikus


Charming guests
Witty as ten hens
Good gay boys

I love a good drink
Margaritas, if you please
Please don't lick the rim

Save your Wednesday nights
Meet us for Mexican food
Share your funny tales

(Okay, so I'm not so good at Haiku)

Salty chip
Dipped in picante
Burns my lips

(Hee hee... I'm done now!)

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Two Bobs Vila


We've really done a number on the house! After virtually buying something from each department of Lowe's, with plans to return yet a few more times for finishing touches, there is nary a room left in our house that has gone untouched by our Vila-esque hands. After installing a new fluorescent fixture in the currently-under-renovation laundry room and seeing the marked improvement over the old fixture that had been retrofitted with compact fluorescents (they had to be left dangling when the old globe wouldn't fit over them), we decided to do the same replacement in the other two rooms where bare bulbs hung: the kitchen and the office. The difference is amazing!
The new exterior door, screen door, and interior laundry room / den doors were supposed to be hung this weekend, but the rain outside prevented us from doing it. Instead, we came up with a plan for hanging the new vinyl shutters (to replace the rotting wooden ones) and actually did tear down the old 80s style vertical blinds in the living room. We replaced them with very classy plantation blinds and will go in search of a valence at Wal-Mart the next time we go. You didn't think that we could do all of this butch housework without thinking about the queer details, did you? ;-)

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Keeping It in the Family

At our "Supper Club" last night, we got into a conversation about adoption, and it got me to thinking about the reality of it all. My partner and I are currently on an adoption wait list - well, he is, since the state doesn't recognize me as anything other than a roommate - and are edging closer and closer to the top. Things will happen when they are supposed to; I'm in no rush to start a family.

Given the news lately about men in most states not being able to easily change their names at the time of marriage (all the woman does is indicate she wants to change it at the time of license application), I've reawakened to the concept that between my brother and myself, my last name will die out if we do not have biological children or adopt and pass the name down. If only American society could awaken for the first time to the idea that breaking convention is not, by default, a bad thing!

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Froshty Fresh

I just love the academic cycle of life. My calendar, like it has been for so many years, is still divided into sixteen-week semesters. Some might find this stifling, annoying, or outrightly childish, but I argue that it is refreshing and helps me keep my youth(ful beauty). As a teacher, I'm lucky to have the opportunity to work with so many young people - as the number of students' lives I have touched grows well into the thousands, I take solace in the fact that each fall, spring, and summer, I temporarily gain access to help shape the minds of yet another few hundred wondering, wandering minds.

I'm very excited about this semester's EarthSmart class I'm teaching. It's the third time I've taught the course, so I've managed to work out a lot of the kinks and the "dead days" where there just wasn't enough activity. After having read the first round of the students' electronic journals, I am ecstatic to learn that I have finally made enough of a name for the course (I co-developed it in 2004 with two other colleagues) - that it has grown into itself and is no longer recommended by advisors and taken by students as a mistaken "easy 'A'". I've never been known to be an especially difficult teacher of freshman seminar courses, but I am quite a demanding one. These students will work, read, and write their hearts out for two hours of credit, but their comments at the trailing end of the semester will justify any frustration, mismanaged time, and dangling modifiers on the part of the pupil. At least I don't grade for grammar and style on student journal entries - I used to assist with the editing of a professional journal, and can be quite a demon (with angelic intentions) with a correcting pen.

So... Wanna enroll?

Monday, January 15, 2007

Two-fer

I just read my own blog... I'd avoid the mundaneness in the future, but wanted to give the new style a test! Maybe it'll be quelque chose de profonde next time! Or maybe just une petite histoire.

How can I go a new direction when I didn't have one originally?

In an effort to do a bit of writing every day or so per my conversation with Anita last night, I'm going to try it out. I can already hear the gasps - no need to comment that it's been a blue moon. I commented to her last night that I didn't often have enough thoughts to put up on web or down on paper in a day - at least not ones that are organized and sensible, and not to mention interesting to someone not me. Doubting that could be the case, Anita encouraged me to try out the daily writing thing. So... Here's my feeble-turning-valiant effort:

I spent the MLK holiday sleeping in a little later than intended, awoke to a sweet phone call from my beau, and sipped away gingerly at a near-boiling cup of freshly ground coffee - my morning mainstay. Per one of my New Year's resolutions, I am working on doing better at making time for my simple hobbies: reading, writing, gaming, and hiking. Biking should be in there, too, but I'm on a holiday from it while Jack Frost is in town. Okay, Jack Frost doesn't cross the Mason-Dixon line, but I don't feel like exercise at the moment.

I took some time and played Space Quest IV, which, after not having played it since before my college days, is nearly a new game. For whatever reason, I've been pining for the days where computer game storylines were linear and adventurous rather than the shoot-em-up'n'kill-em-all style of today. Since I can't control the world, I bought several compendia of old DOS-based Sierra games and have been playing my favorite space hero's character, Roger Wilco, over the span of the last month.

Later in the day, I drove to my beau's workplace and took him out to lunch - another of the simple pleasures I can enjoy when he's working and I'm not. Shopping followed lunch, and it was not a very productive experience. Today, I was in the selfish mindset of being able to shop for myself but not for my sister, father or stepmother, who still lack Christmas gifts. Why don't they have gifts? It's a long story - my credit card was shut off during a good bit of the pre-Christmas holiday due to my being out of the country. Ugh.

Tonight for dinner: pork chops, black-eyed peas, and possibly cornbread. Yumm....