Tuesday, December 03, 2002

Keeping In Touch

It’s been a while since I’ve written, my apologies to those of you who actually read this… [knock, knock, knock] Hello? Anyone there?


Anywho… so I got an IM last night from an old… uh… friend? (Acquaintance? Lust? IM buddy?) Basically, he’s a guy I met once in a bar, had a brief but nice chat and then IM’d a few times. I didn’t think he was really interested in me (or that he’d forgotten me—which was most likely the case) and we quickly lost contact. Suddenly, he was back!

I was quite happy to hear from him—he’s rather cute—and thought that maybe my luck with men might actually be turning around.

Alas, no such F’ing luck.

The guy, I’ll call him Buck, has a freakin’ boyfriend! Well, crap on a stick, what’s up with that? Don’t guys usually start contacting old friends/acquaintances/lusts/IM buddies after the breakup?

He started asking me questions about cigars and pipes, etc. And I replied that I enjoyed them, although, most of my pipe experiences have more to do with 4:20 than tobacco. (nudge, nudge, wink, wink)

Apparently, old Buck has quite a thing for ‘gars and God bless him for it. Too often I’m told they smell, they’re offensive, they sit around and do nothing all day but watch Sports Center… okay that last part only applies to me, and my quiet lust for anchor Trey Wingo, but I think you get the drift. He’s a man who likes men who like cigars and the guys that like them for it. Who wouldn't love that?

Now if only he would break up with his current love (or cheat on him) because it’s been a while and I’m feeling mighty restless…


If I’m thankful for one thing this Thanksgiving, it’s that Thanksgiving is over. What a silly holiday: you have to gather with family that mostly drives you crazy and eat until you’re sick, and then sit around with those same losers, because you’re so stuffed you can’t manage to get the hell out the door. Worse, Christmas is less than a month away!


I’ve barely done any shopping… I’m trying to be “creative” with my gifts to friends, which can mean only one thing: none of them will be speaking to me next year after they receive my crappy gifts. The idea was somewhat original, the wording mostly clever, the execution, however, sucked like a Hoover set on high shag. Ugh. It’s too late now, the sleigh is packed and the reindeer are raring to go—so my sad, poor friends will be getting the worst gift with the best of intentions.

Okay, that’s a little extreme, my intention was not to be lusciously kind, but to save money. I just thought something that was handmade would be charming, no matter how poorly made. Unfortunately, I lack any kind of creative talent. I’m good with ideas, shitty with execution.

Story of my life… which can be found in a hastily hand-bound book with mostly illegible pages, that is pointlessly and poorly illustrated.

I did manage to get most of my bills paid off this month. Big chunk of change to accomplish that, but I feel much better getting a lot of that debt off my financial books (also hastily hand-bound and poorly illustrated).

Well, I can’t think of much else to say today, but have a night evening. Maybe I’ll be more creative the next time I write… which could be tomorrow, or possibly 2005, keep looking and find out.