A is for...

my shiny new 14" ibook with super drive. I am too cool for school!

Denied!!

So last night I went to Ruby Skye with full confidence that I was on 'The List'. My friend and I walked up to a woman holding a clipboard and presented our ids. She politely informed us that we were not on the list. I asked if there might be another list. She replied that it is possible that the headlining DJ may bring his own list later in the night. We checked with will call, and even approached the general manager. No luck. Tickets were selling for a whopping $35 a pop, and my friend I just didn't fell like it was worth it. We called our friends who were supposed to be meeting us there, to let them know we couldn't get in, and they told us that they had just walked in five minutes ago! We debated about sucking up the charge to join our friends, but we opted to call it a night. Thanks to the nice passerby who was kind enough to offer us some blow while we were standing outside deciding what to do.

Oh yeah,

As if falling in love and seeing my first opera weren't enough for an unassuming Thursday evening, I saw Michael Jordan filming a commercial or something in a laundromat on Geary Street. Dude is BIG!

Save the Drama for Your Mama

I went to my first opera last night. It was Eugene Onegin and man was the story over the top. The set was gorgeous and the music was very relaxing though. I would definitely give opera another go if the story was a bit less 'let's duel 'til the death because you danced with my fiance'.

Last night I fell in love!

I mean I have butterflies and a deep, deep yearning. His name is Roberto del Carlo and I met him at Gimme Shoes on Grant Street, and if I can't have him I'll just DIE! Of course I'm referring to an exquisite pair of $375 Italian boots so it will remain an unrequited love for quite some time, but oh his beauty. Footwear has me love sick! I've gotten excited over shoes before, usually trendy, attention getting, coordinating although extremely uncomfortable little numbers. But these boots, these boots.......I was born to walk through life with these works of art covering my feet!

I was walking to the ladies room at the office and as I got two steps past the kitchen area I stopped dead in my tracks; and I wasn’t even sure why until a second later when my conscious caught up with my subconscious and an image of a large, pink confection type box on a counter flashed in front of my eyes. I leaned back to peek inside the kitchen area and confirm my enticing vision, and behold, my eyes had not lied. I may be disciplined enough not to act on my dangerous sweet tooth impulses, but recognizing a tempation seems to be hardwired in my DNA!

Exercise the right NOT to Accessorize!

So a friend of mine here in SF recently joined an online social network of people from her home country in Eastern Europe. Her motive wasn't dating necessarily, but she's open to consider any intriguing prospects that may show interest. Prospects that is who don't wear fanny packs! She got an email from a handsome, well traveled, pleasant sounding man; however, she said that in his profile photo he is wearing a big ol' black fanny pack. And it's not a picture from the 80's, it's from last Summer. Shallow? Oh hell no! I obligatorily asked my friend if he was cute enough to overlook the atrocity, but I think we all know that no degree of hunkiness could make up for a style blunder of this magnitude. Listen up men; it may be convenient, it may be culturally acceptable, but it damn sure ain't gonna get ya laid!

Dancing Machine

You know you want to join us at Minna on Wednesdays!

Rocky Mountain Oysters

Now I had heard this phrase before, but I don't remember learning that it was so goddamned revolting. I am officially disturbed to the core now. I was trying to find annual festivals in Montana that may be of interest to large business owners. (The businesses are large; not the business owners)

Hooch + Shopping = Mayhem

It doesn’t get any better than free booze and brownies, and 20% off everything in one of your favorite overpriced clothiers, followed by some mid-week booty shakin'. Here are Your Majesty's favorite moments from an unexpectedly swilly night out with the girls.

5) Melanie’s ‘I’m not 30 yet’ dance at the bus stop.

4) Slurring “It’s probably the booze” to a cab driver who asked me if I had allergies after I sneezed four times in a row as I teetered into a Starbuck’s on Union Street to use the bathroom while carrying a cup of gin-spiked pink lemonade.

3) Mirella’s demonstrative objection to overpriced micro-skirts.

2) Making a snide remark to a guy at the bar because he wouldn’t move to let me order.

1) Getting asked out by a guy who once told my friend “You got nice tits”. Bonus: he didn’t even ask me my name.

Twilight Zone

So I have a good friend helping me out with a project in the office today, and since the said project is monotonously mind numbing, I brought in portable cd players and headphones so we could jam out to dance music. Yesterday I had this random flash vision of my friend cutting her headphone cord. About 15 minutes ago she called my name and when I turned around she was holding the headphones in one hand, and the length of the cord in the other. She felt bad because she broke my headphones, I completely freaked out that I already saw this happen. Did I see it or make it happen?

End of the Road

So my Honey and I are splitsville. It happened a couple of weeks ago, but it's been a slow dissolve. It was amicable, but of course it still hurts. I have a lot of work to do on myself, which I'm looking forward to actually. One day at a time. *sniff sniff*

Fit for a Queen!!!

Civic Duty (ha-ha, I said Doody)

I did it! I did it! Here's proof.

A friend of mine has a residency at the fancy shmancy Headlands Center for the Arts. Here are some pix of his mind blowing work from the Open House a couple of weeks ago.

Saw these Harry Potter knock-offs in Chinatown. Looks like our junior wizard is pretty proud of his Magic Wand!

Nanny Nanny Boo Boo

I don't mean to rub it in, oh who am I kidding of course I mean to rub it in! THIS is where I stayed on Kauai this Spring. Well I am Royalty after all.

VOTE

Artists come in all shapes and sizes... And ages!

Follow Your Bliss!!

From The Best of Craigslist

How did this happen? I'm not quite sure.

I'm a good guy, some even say a great guy. Fun to be with, interesting witty.

I'm not.

I'm scared sometimes.
I feel alone sometimes.
I feel like people really don't know me.

This is why...

Days become weeks. Weeks become months. Months become years.

Six years at the same job.
It pays well.
I enjoy what I do.
I have a short commute.

Yet I still want to leave.

My entire life in New York.
I love the diversity.
I love the cuisine.
I love the 24/7 lifestyle.
I love being close to my family.

Yet I still want to leave.

I hate being tied down to material things.
I want to burn it all. I really do. I can't.

I commute, work, commute, sleep.
I commute, work, commute, sleep.
I commute, work, commute, sleep.
I commute, work, commute, sleep.
I commute, work, commute, sleep.

My days off are rarely my own.

Errands. All the things you have to do.

Grocery shopping, paying bills, washing clothes.

Take what you make in a month. After taxes.

Take out your rent.
Take out what you spend on food.
Take out what you spend on transportaion.
Take out what you spend on whatever vice you may have to keep yourself going.

Shopping, drugs, alchohol, gambling. Whatever.

Take out your phone bill.
Cable bill.
Utilities.
Cell bill.
Laundry money.
Gas.
Insurance.

Did I miss anything? Probably.

What do you have left?

Now add up time communting, working, and sleeping on a standard work day.

How many hours out of 24?

Shit, shower, shave, eat. How much left?

This is my point.

WE are ALL slaves to a system.
We are all stuck in some kind of routine.
We are not free to stimulate our minds.

We will never know who we really are beacuse we don't have time to explore it.

That is why I don't know who I am and it bothers me.

What has our life become.

Were we, as people, supposed to be living like this?

Better house, better car, better toys.

Are you happy?

Where is your time to enjoy life?

Who would you have become if you had that chance?


you are

bitter
broke
tired
poor
overworked
underpaid
unappreciated
stressed
depressed
lonley
weak
sad

should I go on? I could.

Burn it all.

Fuck McDonalds and Starbucks. Their products are overpriced shit.
The run mom and pop cafes and diners out of business. Fuck them.

Fuck tv.
The majority if it is mind numbing garbage.

Fuck mtv telling you what music is cool.
Go outside see a band that hasn't made it yet.
Pick up a fucking instrument.

Fuck the media for giving our mothers, sisters, and daughter eating disorders.
Fuck the media for making men insecure about their car, penis, house, hair.

What's 75% of your spam mail in your inbox. That's right.

The other 25% is for medication that we need after living the life they give us.

Push up bras, make-up, press on nails, high heels, hair color.
Fuck that.

Pride in ones appearence is one thing.

Being something you are not is something else.

You are beautiful. Stop it.
You do it because we've all been brainwashed. Wake up.

Do you know when a woman is most beautiful?
When she wakes up in the morning.

Guys, stop watching sports, start playing them.

Your missed commection is your own fault. Meet someone.

Meet someone real.

Become some one real.

Fuck material possesions.

I'm slowly getting rid of everything I own.

Eventually I'll leave New York. Probably the U.S. also.

I don't know where I'll go, what I'll do, or what I'll be.

The only thing I will have left is me. The real me. That's what I want to be.

Wine, women, and song. That's all I think I'll need.