Steven Shyne and the Inner Workings

This Week in Unnecessary Censorship

2009-06-27T19:04:00.001-07:00

Enjoy enjoy enjoy!

Alcazar "Burning"

2009-06-18T23:42:00.001-07:00

I'm totally featuring this song--it's potentially the best song written. And I LOVE the outfits. Enjoy.

This Week in Unnecessary Censorship

2009-06-16T21:50:00.001-07:00

Sorry I'm late (Vince) in posting another edition in This Week in Unnecessary Censorship. Enjoy!

Things Steven Shyne Couldn't Give A Shit About

2009-06-14T17:14:00.000-07:00

Have you ever just, like, been tired of hearing about something? When you see it on newspapers, web pages, in your mailbox, on your tv or in your vicinity in any shape or form a flood of emotions overwhelms thee? It's like anger, pain, disgust, annoyance, loathing and boredom all wrapped in a ribbon of ridiculousness that's dipped into a vat of "why are we still taking about this?" Here's my list du mois; let the countdown begin:

5. The Frickin' Hills: Lauren Conrad, Heidi & Spencer, etc.
These little brats sure push my buttons--they are famous for nothing! They aren't actors, they certainly aren't singers (Heidi), not dancers, and not movie stars (not stars of anything other than their own egos). They are famous for filming this show and then lying about it's authenticity. The world would be a better place sans the Hills et al. Sure this is their fifteen minutes of fame, but I say tick tock. (And don't get me started on the fact that MTV doesn't play music videos, but that's another rant entirely.)

4. Frickin' GM in Chapter 11
As quoted in "No Shit" magazine: "Duh!" They were a lousy company with a bad product that the majority of consumers would prefer not to drive and that they (here's the nail in the coffin) refused to do anything about. If the trend is smaller, more fuel efficient cars and hybrid technology, don't come out with a new Hummer that gets 14 miles to the gallon. Their downfall is their stubbornness and resistance to adapt to market changes. RIP.

3. Frickin' Swine Flu
This one is almost out the door already, but it has to be mentioned. Notice how quickly and intensely this pandemic and pandemonium swept across the world's media outlets? Mexico was basically an infestation, the US was next and people are going to be dropping like flies. IT'S STILL JUST THE FLU. Sure a couple of people died, in the US an infant and a very elderly, sickly woman: people who would have died from any old flu--because that's exactly what it was!

2. Frickin' Adam Lambert Coming Out of the Closet
I don't know what cave these people are hiding in but, umm... let me quote "Duh!" Magazine, "No Shit." He kisses men, wears eyeliner, dresses in drag and he's gay? Color me shocked. There's more to this story than him simply coming out of the closet too. It's clearly evident that Adam Lambert has more talent in his left pinky than Kris Allan does in his whole being. I LOVE KRIS ALLAN, don't get me wrong. He has charm, he's adorable, and he's talented enough. He's precious and clean and safe and that's why he won American Idol... that's why Taylor Hicks won (to no future success) and Ruben Studdard (who just filed bankruptcy and was dropped from his label). The point I am making is that according to a recent Pop Eater poll, people are "surprised". Another poll says that a staggering amount (12 - 15%) would have voted differently having known he was gay. WHAT? Regardless of sexuality, candid or discrete, Adam is uber talented, and he will prove himself in the future. This I'm sure.

so you want to really know what chaps my ass...

1. Frickin' Jon and Kate Plus Media
There are soo many things that rub me the wrong way with this. Firstly, Jon cheated on Kate, well, because she's a bitch. AND WHO WOULDN'T BE when raising 8 kids while being videotaped around the clock for years on end. Secondly, isn't it a LITTLE fishy that the story of him cheating broke RIGHT before the season premiere of their show which was scheduled within WEEKS of her book to hit shelves ALL KNOWING that the first episode has footage of them having a rift in their relationship which means he would have to have cheated at the beginning of the season, say, around January? FISHY FISHY. I like their show, rather, I liked their show, when it was about the kids and all the fun adventures a family of 8 went through. Now, literally, it's about Jon and Kate and the paparazzi and their marital issues and who gives a god damn shit? I don't.

Wild Wonders

2009-06-11T20:58:00.000-07:00

This is a bit of an old post that I forgot to put up, but enjoyable enough that I wanted to post it. Back in May some of the team from my work took a field trip to this fantastic place called Wild Wonders. I was one of the few that went.

Wild Wonders is a licensed and insured wildlife education organization that travels throughout the United States, providing exotic animals and animal trainers for shows, parties and events. They have a facility in Fallbrook which is about an hour-and-a-half north of San Diego. At this facility they house a beautiful collection of animals from all across the globe. They are not a zoo, it's a private company that takes animals in that were abandoned, abused, abducted or planned to be tested upon. They strive to provide the utmost in care for these animals; from diet and nutrition and affection training to behavioral enrichment. All of their 120 animal ambassadors came to them from other educational facilities, were confiscated/reliquished as they were illegal pets, or non-releasable native wildlife. NONE HAVE BEEN TAKEN FROM THE WILD. I took some of this info from their website--for more information visit www.wildwonders.org

Onto my experience. First we arrive and they want to introduce us to Victor the Cheetah. He was in a very large enclosure--probably the same size as the Wild Animal Park's exhibit space. He came right up to the trainers and started rubbing against the fence and purring. A Cheetah purr is very, VERY loud. It's cute still, but it's a little intimidating. Just a little. We got to reach in and pet him and he loved it. We talked about animal conservation and how there are some 2,000 cheetahs, and if measures aren't made to protect and support the cheetah population, there might not be a population to protect in the near future. Anyway I'll get off my soapbox and continue. Victor was great. Loved him. Next we saw their other cats, a bobcat and two Siberian Lynx. The lynx were very lovey and social, where as the bobcat literally growled at me. I was the last to leave this are and as I walked by him he gave out a very loud but harmless growl.

Next was my personal favorite--binturongs! Binta-wha? Whoozi-rang? No--binturong. Binturongs are probably one of my favorite animals. Per Wikipedia:

The Binturong (Arctictis binturong), also known as the Asian Bearcat, the Palawan Bearcat, or simply the Bearcat, is a species of the family Viverridae, which includes the civets and genets. It is neither a bear nor a cat, and the real meaning of the original name is lost, as the local language that gave it is extinct^[3]. Its natural habitat is in trees of forest canopy in rainforest of Bangladesh, Bhutan, Burma, China, India, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Nepal, the Philippines, Thailand, and Vietnam.^[1]

It is nocturnal and sleeps on branches. It eats primarily fruit, but also has been known to eat eggs, shoots, leaves, and small animals, such as rodents or birds. Deforestation has greatly reduced its numbers. When cornered, the Binturong can be vicious. The Binturong can make chuckling sounds when it seems to be happy and utter a high-pitched wail if annoyed. The Binturong can live over 20 years in captivity; one has been recorded to have lived almost 26 years.

visit wikipedia's page on the binturong for more information.

We didn't get to touch them but I sure wanted to. I wanted to crawl in there with them and bite their little ears and kiss him on the face! I think they would have not have enjoyed that and would have demonstrated their dislike in a number of ways.... I digress.

Now that I hit the high note, I'll summarize everything else up quickly; next we saw a myriad of foxes. They were so cute! We saw a tortoise and alligators and snakes and lizards. They were not as cute. There were some beautiful (and loud) birds. They were loud. We also saw a hedgehog (that I got to pet!), chinchillas, rabbits, and some little monkeys. All were very cute.

It was a good day. Very cool. Signing off.

Auto-Tune the News!

2009-06-09T23:31:00.001-07:00

Check it out, short-ay. They've taken the news, auto-tuned it and made amazing hip hop newsie bluesie beat boxie sounds for us to enjoy. Shortay.

This Week in Unnecessary Censorship

2009-06-06T13:44:00.001-07:00

Another episode of "This Week in Unnecessary Censorship." Enjoy.

Total Eclipse of the Heart: Literal Video Version

2009-06-02T20:52:00.005-07:00

Random Video: this is so funny--it's actual video of the song "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler, but the words have been changed to match what's going on in the video. You'll get the idea. Enjoy!

Unnecessary Censorship - Jimmy Kimmel Live

2009-05-15T19:14:00.001-07:00

Enjoy this edition of Jimmy Kimmel's f***ing funny clip.

Kylie on NBCs TODAY With Kathie Lee and Hoda Kotb

2009-05-13T00:29:00.001-07:00

The Kylie countdown begins. In case you didn't hear I am already holding 10th row tickets for the Las Vegas show on October 3rd. "Oh she's coming to the States?" you might say. "Kylie wha?" "Minogue-who?" Watch the damn clip and, as Kylie puts it, "Get with the program!"

This Week in Unnecessary Censorship

2009-05-09T12:16:00.001-07:00

I think I'm going to start working these into the blog. They are so f**king funny. (That was a related joke because they bleep things...out and its... never mind.) If you can't wait for me to post a new one, YouTube your brains out.

Sneezing Panda

2009-05-09T11:42:00.001-07:00

Firstly, my apologies I haven't posted anything in a while. Life comes at you fast. Work is busy, travels are frequent and school is wrapping up for the term. I promise many blog posts to come, but to hold you over, here's a sneezing panda. Enjoy.

KYLIE2009 - I Could Just Die!

2009-05-06T09:27:00.000-07:00

For Immediate Release

INTERNATIONAL POP ICON KYLIE MINOGUE ANNOUNCES FIRST EVER NORTH AMERICAN TOUR

Kylie’s 6-City Tour Kicks Off September 30th

Includes A Performance At The Historic Hollywood Bowl In Los Angeles

Latest Release Boombox: The Remix Album 2000-2008 Available Now

(New York, NY – May 6, 2009) – North American fans of international pop superstar Kylie Minogue will finally get a chance to experience the icon live in concert when her 6-city tour kicks off in Oakland, CA on September 30th (full schedule below). Over the course of her extraordinary 20-year-career, Minogue has been a global force in pop music with more than 40 million albums sold worldwide, 50 hit singles including the U.S. Billboard dance-chart toppers “Can’t Get You Our of My Head,” “Love At First Sight,” “Slow,” and the Grammy-Award winning “Come Into My World,” countless awards and accolades including an OBE from the Queen and 8 sold-out world tours including last year’s KylieX2008 tour which traveled to 21 countries throughout Europe, South America, Dubai, Asia, New Zealand and Australia, generating and estimated $70,000,000 in ticket sales. Kylie couldn’t be more excited about her first tour through North America.

“I’ve wanted to tour in America and Canada for years and know that fans have been waiting a long time for this,“ said Minogue. “I’m thrilled that the opportunity has finally arrived.”

The tour is being produced by Los Angeles-based concert promotion firm Bill Silva Presents (BSP). Company CEO Bill Silva commented, “Kylie has such a successful career outside of North America that it has taken quite a while to find a window in her schedule for the U.S. and Canada. Her amazing fans in North America will be well rewarded for their patience when they experience her show and its entire spectacle. We are confident in the tour’s success, and hope that Kylie will make this the first of many tours to our shores.”

Tickets will go on sale in each market on the weekend of May 15, however early access to tickets in the U.S. will be available to American Express Cardmembers beginning this Thursday, May 7, through Ticketmaster. Members of Kylie.com's mailing list will receive an email that contains information of special ticket pre-sale offers.

Kylie’s last visit stateside was in early 2008 with a promotional trip to support the release of her 10th studio album X (Astralwerks/Capitol) in which she performed on Ellen, Dancing With The Stars and the Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson. Kylie has since toured the globe with KylieX2008, hosted the prestigious Brit Awards, earned her 5th Grammy® nomination, released a range of bed linen called “Kylie at Home,” released her 5th fragrance “Couture,” released Boombox: The Remix Album 2000-2008, and traveled to Mumbai to participate in the most expensive Bollywood feature film ever made entitled “Blue.” In addition to a cameo role in the film, Kylie performs the main musical number written and recorded with internationally renowned composer AR Rahman. Kylie shows no signs of slowing down with the announcement of the North American tour and plans to commence work on her 11th studio album.

Kylie Minogue released her first single “Locomotion” in July 1987. The Little Eva remake became an instant hit around the world and launched the music career of the now icon. Kylie is one of the world’s most successful female artists with over 40 million albums sold, 50 hit singles, ten studio albums, two live CDs, eight live concert DVD’s, plus her Greatest Hits and Ultimate Kylie double album, multiple video packages and eight world tours.

Since 1979, Bill Silva Presents (BSP) has produced over 10,000 events from small clubs to major stadiums all over the world. Shows produced have included such prodigious talents as The Rolling Stones, The Who, Simon & Garfunkel, The Police, Madonna, Nirvana, Eric Clapton and Bob Dylan. BSP have also produced North American Tours with Dr. Dre’s “Up In Smoke Tour,” the most successful hip hop tour of all time; and international tours with comedian Margaret Cho.

For information on Kylie’s North American tour please visit the Kylie Minogue North American tour widget at http://www.billsilvaentertainment.com/kylie.

For more on Kylie Minogue, including news updates, photos, streaming audio and video, and downloads, please visit www.kylie.com.

For album artwork, photos and other press materials on Kylie, please visit www.emimusicpublicity.net.

# # #

Kylie Minogue North American Tour

Sep. 30 Oakland, CA Fox Theater

Oct. 3 Las Vegas, NV The Pearl (Palms Hotel & Casino)

Oct. 4 Los Angeles, CA Hollywood Bowl

Oct. 7 Chicago, IL The Congress Theater

Oct. 9 Toronto, ON Air Canada Centre

Oct. 11 NYC, NY Hammerstein Ballroom

"Hey I was just about to call you,"

2009-04-29T15:16:00.001-07:00

claimed Scott Lewallen. He continued, "What are you doing this weekend?"
I reply without hesitation, "Nothing. Why? You coming to San Diego?"
"I was thinking about it. Just for Friday night. Is that okay?"
"It's more than okay. Come down. Just let me know," I exclaim.

So that's how my weekend starts, with this phone call around 5 or 6 pm on Friday evening. For all that don't know, Scott Lewallen is one of my best friends. I met him through Atlantis; he works for them, as do I, but not in the same capacity. He works for them full-time. Anyway he did indeed decide to come down to San Diego. Upon arrival I met him at Rite Aid, located only a block from my house, typically where we intersect paths to purchase accouterments (aka: drinking paraphernalia). We go to my palace (that's not a typo), mix a drink, play songs and finally we head out to the club. Rich's is the main gay club here in San Diego, I would say, and we wanted something a bit "off" tonight. We started walking to a bar much closer called Brass Rail, and en route, right before rounding the corner to our destination, a random person (we presume a gay man) said "Girls! Don't go there! It's lesbian night!" Now we have nothing against lesbians but this was not the evening we had intended. We quickly shuffled past the bar as if it wasn't our intention to enter in the first place. Struck down we head over to Urban Mo's, a restaurant + bar here in SD. It was DEAD. And dreadful I might add. Shot down again, there was one place left to go before Rich's--Flicks, it's neighboring competition. As we started to arrive though, Flicks too wasn't as busy as we had hoped. Let me say this too--Scott didn't leave LA till about 6pm, that means he didn't get in till 8:30 pm (because of Friday night traffic) plus we had about 3 drinks at my place; it had to have been close to midnight and these places should all be packed. Last resort: Rich's.

We enter, pay cover and order drinks. It was also not terribly busy, but still a ton of people as usual. We decided that we would make our own event and started doing runway and posing in this long section of the room that neighbors an equally long bar. I might add that we were fierce too, and I'm not saying that because we were blitzed either. The bartender said to someone "The shows that way" and nodding his head to us. Work work work work.

Straight translation: "Work" is short for "work it" i.e. "work it out, miss thang!" or, "she worked that runway."

The night ended about 2 pm, we scampered over to close-by taco shop and ordered some delicious Mexican food. There a woman said to me, "You look really familiar, where have we met?" I let her keep guessing, asking, inquiring, begging, toiling away at where we had crossed paths previously... until I put her misery to rest and showered her in pictures of me in drag. She was a tray passer at a house party I went to for the Oscar Awards and naturally I went in a gown. Naturally. It was a red carpet event after all. This is the said photo that tipped her off.

Okay--left Mexican "restaurant" went back to my place and crashed. Saturday "morning" when we woke, we turned to each other and inquired on the day ahead. We both agreed to a quick jaunt to SeaWorld. It was fantastic! We went to the Wild Arctic (saw polar bears, baluga whales), Penguin Encounter (saw, well, penguins), Shark Reef (you guessed it...) and the Shamu Show (orca whales et al). It was a fun, quick SeaWorld adventure with hopefully many more to come. Scott decided it was probably too late to drive home and asked if he could stay another night. Shaa--yes--dumb. Saturday night we didn't really do anything. We drank at my place again, played music, web cammed with his sister--half way through the webcam we selected some choice wigs from Kitty's closet and webcamed in half-drag. She thought it was hilarious (I hope). Scott had some work to do, I had some drinking to do, and in the middle of everything we decided to write songs. What? I know. We wrote songs! It was sooo fantastic.

Sunday Scott left before lunch, I did homework all day and that was that. Sunday evening John (the boyfriend) was coming home from business trips. I went and picked him up at the airport and we had a nice, little dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant. It was sooo nice having him home. That was the weekend, everybody.

Now it's Wednesday, I came down with a horrible cold and neck ache (unassociated) and have been home from work for the past two days, on pain killers and drinking more fluids than I thought possible. I've gotta get better before Friday rolls around!

END OF TRANSMISSION

La La Land

2009-04-21T18:51:00.000-07:00

Firstly, apologies for the slight delay in getting this next blog post out.

The following in the continuation of my adventures in LA, the weekend of Saturday April 18. Saturday: Didn't do too much this day. Met up with Vince and Allan before they headed to the GLAAD media awards. They were volunteer celebrity ushers--basically free personal assistants to an assigned Hollywood celeb. Side note: Vince got Jessica Alba--totally jeal. After that I went to Eldon's work and hung out with him. It was fairly slow for him that day so it was okay for me to just chill there. We talked and laughed and read each other's minds and it was great. After a couple hours there I went back to Eldon's house, read my book and took a well deserved nap. Eldon came home in about 2 hours, we got up, showered, mixed a drink and met up with Brad (another very good friend up in LA) for dinner. I forget where we went but it was great. It was right across the street from the Abbey, the super-popular nightclub + restaurant in the epicenter of West Hollywood. We ordered mojito-like super-limey drinks. EXCELLENT. Eldon--what were they called again? Definitely getting that again.

Following dinner Brad, Eldon and I went to an Instinct magazine party. It was a little slow, but there was a hosted bar, so we weren't going anywhere. As people started to trickle in we chatted and gabbed and drank more. Eldon and I wanted a change of scene so we popped over to Here bar and had a couple drinks there. We ran around, chatted with people and decided that we needed to get back to the other party. Eldon knew some people so he was able to zip right in. I had at least a handstamp something so I was very, very first in line, but still had to wait a bit. After getting back in I don't remember too much more, but I remember dancing a touch, chatting a bit more, but leaving shortly after arriving. Fun times.

Sunday was fabulous. We got up around something o'clock and went to our Chad & Brian house. Chad & Brian I met on the Atlantis cruises and they are, in mind, a dream. They are both beautiful, have great style, are the sweetest boys, and are as well off as I am crazy. I'm their friends because they are such good people, the wealthy thing is just perk. I was able to partake on this perk this day because they were having a pool party. One word: AMAZING. Their house is stunning, seated in the Hollywood hils. They are able to point out celebrities' homes from their place. Oh and the view, don't get me started. It was phenomenal. The only thing better than the view was the company. It was very much birds of a feather with their friends. They are all super nice and pleasant people. What a perfect day. The day started to escape us as it followed the sun and the pool party dwindled and faded. We all needed a bit of sustenance so we jumped into our vehicles and headed to a Mexican restaurant, again the name I don't know. In short we waiting around by the bar for about 2 or 3 hours, finally once sat it took us 45 minutes to order, eat and leave. Albeit a long wait it was fun hanging and drawing the weekend out a bit. I left Eldon's place in LA right at 10:00 pm, and made it home in my door at about 11:40 pm, a record time drive. There was no traffic whatsoever.

It was a fabulous weekend full of Britney and bars and boys, but, of course, my favorite part was spending quality time with some of the best people in the world. Love you all my LA friends!

Ringleader

2009-04-20T11:51:00.000-07:00

Merry Christmas! What? But it's April. Well my story starts on Christmas: John, for Christmas, bought us tickets to see Britney Spears' latest tour LA. As the concert date approached John was summoned to Switzerland for work and, unable to go, gave me his ticket to take someone else in his place. I called Eldon, one of my best friends and he gracefully accepted. Let's get to it.

Eldon and I get to the Staples Center around 8:00pm, showtime, but of course concerts always run late so we were not bothered. After zipping through the rather short line the guard utters, "I'm sorry this isn't you're line. You need to enter of there, pointing at a "VIP Entrance" sign. I love signs like that. We scurry to the appropriate door and parade through the gateway, tickets in the air and spirits high. Speaking of spirits it was time for a drink. The VIP tickets also grant us access to a VIP lounge where cocktails are served. We run into the VIP lounge and notice there is all sorts of noise coming from the stadium hall--the concert started! It was only 8:15! At any rate we thought a drink was more urgent than seeing the opening act, Pussycat Dolls, sober. Drink we did and arrived at our seats with drinks in hand. The Pussycat Dolls... frankly... stunk. Their costumes were fun, they looked great, but the "singing" and the "dancing" was awful. It explained to my why they--a very, very popular group--would open up a show, rather than be the headline themselves.

Once the Pussycat Dolls finished their lackluster performance, the house lights went up and intermission began. Rather than an uneventful intermission, various performers came out and performed: hula hoopers and jugglers and tightrope walkers and ribbon dancers and a midget and all sorts of characters. It was fun, I really enjoyed it. Another drink and a couple circus performances later, the show finally begins.

I wont go into too much detail, but even saying that I'm sure I will. Firstly the concert itself was set-up like a three ring circus (one large circular stage in the middle and two smaller circular stages flanking the main stage). The stages were in the center of the arena as well, not pushed against a wall like most concerts. The show opened with her song "Circus"--she came down on a rotating pedestal from the ceiling dressed in a sparkling, radiant ringleader's costume. She played all her hits from her last two CDs with a couple of other fantastic songs like "Baby One More Time" and "Me Against the Music." It was really a great show. Keeping in line with the circus theme they had aerialists and magic and the whole nine yards during her show. The dancers were fabulous, the costumes were dazzling, and the music was great--sure it was all on a track, but I don't feel short-changed--when she's dancing her booty off on-stage, running around like a crazy person... err umm like... a Britney, I give her a little slack on the singing.

It was a fabulous weekend, a fabulous concert with fabulous friends and fabulous memories. Love to all.

Lady GaGa White Party 2009 Montage

2009-04-14T00:15:00.001-07:00

This is in reference to my most previous posting. The quality is a little crappy but you can get a great idea of how amazing this concert was.

White Party 2009

2009-04-13T23:03:00.000-07:00

Let's first lay the foundation: White Party is a big gay event held at several locations throughout the year (Miami and Paris to name a few), but one of the most popular would be Palm Springs' White Party held every Easter weekend. My friend Scott who also works for Atlantis (the cruise company I work with part-time) wanted my help at the Atlantis booth. In turn for me working I would get a weekend pass to the White Party. Lodging would need to be sourced on my own. Well it just so happens that one of my very best friends Michael was going to be at White Party as well and offered to share his place with me--count me in. I'm there.

Saturday I worked all day and hung out with Scott and Michael and had a fabulous time. Just fabulous. We talked, exchanged stories, laughed, drank, had photo shoots, reviewed said photos, laughed again, drank more and so on. Well Saturday night was the actual, like, WHITE PARTY party. It was held at the convention center and they fill the place with lights and amazing sound equipment and some decor and lots of half naked men. Sounds awful, huh? Well besides a ton of great friends rendezvousing at the White Party (Scott, Mike, Eldon, Marky, Brad), Lady GaGa was also going to perform at the White Party. If you don't know who Lady GaGa is, slap yourself on my behalf, youtube her posthaste, and the continue reading the blog.

The room was aglow with white costumes. Light effects reflected off the bodies on the earth below, shimmering and shining like an ocean. A silken fabric hangs on the far wall, flush to a stage. It's a screen. The music stops. The fabric bursts with light--a projection is now shown. A movie. A movie of Lady GaGa. The crowd is both silenced and energized while the images flash on the draping fabric. The clip shows Lady GaGa in an interrogation setting. The room in all white. She in all black, sitting in a chair. Her hands stained with what we presume blood. A mans voice sternly inquires, "Why did you do it?" she replies confidently, "For art." The fabric drops to the floor and behind the screen is a silhouette of GaGa. She commands the stage and sings to onlookers. The performance shatters worlds.

I was expecting a quick 2 or 3 song set and the party would go on. No. Lady GaGa pulled out every song in her repertoire, even a new one not yet released, for a full hour and a half. I was blown away. There was nothing like her performance that I have ever seen, and I recommend each and everyone one of you, my blogettes, to see her should you have the chance. Following are some of the kooky, bizarre, quirky lines that she delivered between songs:

"Sometimes I feel like a blonde bitch in a bunch of bubbles, and I don't give a fuck." (meanwhile she was wearing a suit made of large plastic bubbles)

"In the year 3009, all the kids of New York City ran out of the nightclubs and killed the paparazzi" (the story continued but I don't remember it really)

"This next song is about a vibrator" (As she plays her song "Rubber Man"

"Have you ever told such a little lie, and you would do anything--even kill--to make it come true? Some people say Lady GaGa is a lie. And you know what? They are right. And every day I kill to make Lady GaGa a reality."

"I have no money... because every penny I make I spend on my show." (just after this line she rides onto the stage in a scooter covered in Denim and rhinestones)

"I swear on my denim scooter I will never betray you, my beautiful gay fans."

"All you need is music, art, and each other"

The show was a phenomenon I died, went to heaven, went to hell and came back from both with GaGa blazed into my memory. The party was fabulous, the weekend terrific, my friends even closer and a part of GaGa with me.

September - Cry For You

2009-04-10T09:06:00.001-07:00

Sorta bizarre video. Dancing is good. Overall it has much more potential, but the song is really catchy. Enjoy.

To Whom it May Concern

2009-04-08T20:49:00.000-07:00

To the patrons of the men's bathroom in my office building: Gentlemen and Sirs,

As you already know, we share a common space by the elevator in the hallway known as the men's restroom. I'd like to set out a couple of "guidelines" in the following which are not open to discussion:

1. First and foremost, wash your hands. This may seem like a childish and outdated practice but please, for god sakes, think of where your hands are going to be AFTER your done fondling your gentiles. Your computer? Your phone? Food? Gross. Pigs.

2. If you have the urge to let out a sign while urinating, maybe you should have done it hours ago; keep your sounds and signals of satisfaction to yourselves--internally.

3. Don't talk on your cell phone in the bathroom. YOU'RE NOT THAT IMPORTANT. It's proof that you're a total asshole.

4. Do not--I repeat--Do not bring reading materials into the stalls. This isn't your throne, it's not even your house. Don't stay a while--get in and get out. End of story.

5. FLUSH. Self explanatory.

6. Spitting? While you're on the toilet? Onto the floor? Giving me a god damn break. That's just disgusting. You should be slapped.

7. Under no circumstances should you believe it okay to whistle. This really is applied to all situations everywhere but especially applicable in a small room with hard, sound-reflective surfaces in the company of pure strangers.

8. I understand you may happen to run into coworkers or even arrive at the same time, but do not carry conversations or tell stories. No one wants to hear you, especially your colleague.

9. Possibly the most ridiculous is the act of leaning against the wall. If you're too heavy to hold up your own weight, go to the gym. If you're too tired to stand on your own two feet, maybe pee sitting down. If you are just a lazy asshole, maybe you should just pee in your pants instead of going to the bathroom at all. Seriously, you look like a tool when you lean against the wall while peeing. (Please note: when intoxicated would be only an acceptable time to do this.)

10. Please eat sensible meals, filled with nutrients and plenty of fiber. It's good for you. And it benifits me: the last thing I--or anyone for that matter--wants to hear is your curry in a hurry resonating through the plumping of the 3rd floor. That burrito grande wasn't such a good idea after all, Shitsy McSplatterbutt? And whats with the taking a shit at 9:12 am? You couldn't have planned it out and sent your logs downstream before leaving the house? Do you have a 2+ hour commute? I am LITERALLY over your shit.

Your mandatory cooperation is appreciated.

Best,

Steven Shyne

Creature Comforts

2009-04-06T19:37:00.001-07:00

This is a British show that I just love. Each little episode is about different categories and it's just so fun. Essentially they interview the great British public and put those recording to animal personifications. There are very subtle pieces of comedy so keep an ear out. Enjoy.

Little Italy Walking Tour

2009-04-04T18:05:00.000-07:00

Thursday afternoon I received an email at work to see if I was interested in going (for free) on a walking tour of Little Italy. Everyone reading my blog surely knows what I do for a living (and if you don't I'd be happy to explain it to you) so you know it was a "professional development" tour of sorts, but also you will know I love a good walking tour. I'd spoken and exchanged emails with this tour operator before but have never had the pleasure of selling his tour. Well, I accepted and what a treat! John and I just got back from the tour, and it was something else. I'll keep my synopsis brief.

The guide, Anthony, is a New York American-Italian who now lives in San Diego. He had an assistant who is from Rome (like, she still calls that home but lives here for now) and the assistant helped with passing photos out to making sure the headsets worked properly. Oh the headsets! Each person had a headset that received audio from the guide via a microphone, so you could be in the back of the group and still hear what he's yacking about. I loved it. Okay so basically the tour covered San Diego history and what made Italians migrate to San Diego in the first place along with geography, culture, community, religion, commerce and, San Diego's own renaissance of sorts with the revitalization of Little Italy. Very cool. Highly recommend. So here's the kicker--he just does private tours really, only does public tours (I believe) it was every first Saturday. Let me know if you're interested and I'd be happy to give you a full download and put you in touch. If I didn't say it before--highly recommended!

Off to dinner...signing out.

Lady GaGa - Poker Face Live (Piano Version)

2009-03-31T17:51:00.001-07:00

To commemorate the restarting of the blog I thought I would share this will all of you. Eldon originally sent this to me, and I pretty much died. For your viewing pleasure, Lady GaGa and her hit song "Poker Face" redone. A new. Like me blog.

Return of the Blog

2009-03-31T15:56:00.000-07:00

It's been a rather long absence, but I've decided to return to the blog. It's nice to reflect on recent events and keep a "diary" if you will. As many of you know I'm an open book; my diary is never a closed subject, and I'll readily share (often too liberally) my inner thoughts. So expect some funny/sad/happy/tranny/crazy stories ahead.

Music Video of the Month

2007-07-03T14:58:00.001-07:00

Hello all. This is a fantastic music video, kinda creepy, but a great song.

Credits:
Goldfrapp - "Number 1"

Purpetuating the Stereotype

2007-07-03T13:59:00.000-07:00

Let me just start by saying this is my first official rant via blog.

As all or many of you know, we (David, Mike, Parker (the dog) and me) moved to a new place in Cortez Hill. Everything is lovely, thank you for asking--couldn't ask for better. Well, I applied for my new parking permit for the Cortez Hill area, and when I was on the phone with the DMV they mentioned that my registration has been suspended. What!? They mentioned that they sent out a letter a couple months ago stating that they needed to have documentation of financial responsibility (aka: a copy of my insurance card). I had already taken care of this months ago shortly after the letter arrived and I guess it wasn't resolved on their end. They gave me some other phone number to call, called said number, spoke to the entire phone tree until they got someone who could help me. And once I got them on the phone, they were like, "Oh yeah, the last person forgot to, like, click the 'finalize' button and process the whatever. It should clear in 48-hours." Stupid--but lovely. Okay...

Called the DMV 2-days later, still didn't clear and the DMV was like, "oh no, it takes 5-days to clear." Okay. Thanks. Called again the next week--nothing. Called the day after--nothing. Called the day ofter that--NOTHING. I'm pissed. I've been taking copious notes of my conversations with everyone I've had--I'm writing names, numbers, dates, times, anything I can. I have two pages of notes listing this whole dilemma out. Why, you may ask? Protection. I have it in my car with me for now if I should get pulled over or whatever I will be able to use those notes to possible persuade the police officer.

ANYWAY, the entire point of all this back-story is so you can get an understanding of the California DMV. I have never been one to bitch about the DMV or government agencies of the like. I know they are a necessary evil and I feel badly for the people that work at those jobs. However, the California DMV is beyond a "necessary" evil and just plain evil. They jerk you around, they don't give a shit about you as a "customer," and frankly they just chap my ass. I fart in their general direction. Shitheads.

"Who are you calling a cootie queen?"

2007-06-09T18:15:00.001-07:00

Okay y'all. If you haven't seen this commercial, please tune in. It's so freaking funny. Enjoy.

Not Mono. Solo.

2007-06-09T17:29:00.001-07:00

Okay friends, thankfully I do not have mono. I just had a throat-closing incident is all. I looked up online and it mentioned that a severe sore throat can be completely stress induced. I've also had a minute case of hives (which I get when I'm stressed out) and I'm thinking they are both related--to the break-up. I know, random, lame, call it what you will, but that's the status on that. That's all I got!

Mono?

2007-06-02T16:11:00.001-07:00

Where do I even start with this little story. Well, Memorial Day Monday was just like any other day (excluding the fact that it was a paid vacation day off work--holla), except when I woke up, I had a scratchy throat. I thought nothing of it really at first. As the day progressed it kinda got a little worse. Like it was getting painful to drink and swallow. Weird, right? Well I thought to myself let's give it 24-hours and maybe it will clear up, because that's what they say. Sometime in the evening though I sent an email to my boss and the receptionist at work saying there's a chance that I will have to go to the doctor's office in the morning. So I go to bed, wake up the next morning... I could barely breathe. I describe it like an anorexic was choking me. Like, I could respire okay, but it came with a more work than the standard zero point zero zero effort. Freaky! Right? I went to the urgent care up the street from my place (okay, so like 10-blocks but same diff') and they saw me right away. They were asking me all these questions and taking all my vitals and my glads were super swollen (like, I had restricted movement of my head they were so swollen), and the back of my throat was red, like, blood red, like totally infected.

They swabbed my for strep throat, but that was negative--thank goodness right? They then said, "Well, you don't have strep, but you have all the signs of Mono." Mono!? Shit! So they said there's no real test for Mono, except, well, there is, but they have to wait like 5-days after you contract mono to do the test, then it takes like 5-days for the test results to come back and by that point you're either better or dead, I guess. All they could do is give me a prescription for some steroids that will dramatically help my swelling. They proceeded to administer a shot of mega-steroids (so I would start my prescription the next day) and I got the shot right in the fat of my ass. The lady was like, "Good job. Not a flinch, no blood, nothing." I go, "I know, I got a lot of ass back there." Honestly, yeah, I said that. Within 20-minutes the meat of my ass felt like it was hit by a baseball, but like, a baseball on fire. It was sore and it burned, but shortly my throat returned to normal with only a minimal and faint scratchy feeling, like if I ate a tortilla chip and it went down sideways. Relief. So now I'm taking a steroid prescription for 5-days, and if the swelling comes back after 5-days I have Mono. If I don't I just had a swollen shut throat phenomenon. What else... Oh but the steroids side affects are a whole other basket of issues to deal with. Following are said side affects:

1) May cause sleeplessness: the first night I took the administered super-shot of steroids, I slept a total of 2-hours the whole night, but I was completely energized. It was crazy. They called the next day for a check-up call, and I asked them if that was typical. The person whom I spoke with said that the last person that had the steroid shot cleaned her whole house, top to bottom, in and out, overnight--in one night. That was me too I guess because I went to the grocery store, cleaned, worked out for an hour and a half THEN got ready for work and started my day. It was nuts.

2) Increase of appetite: Now I'm not sure to what level this means, but I have noticed I'll eat just about anything right now. I usually inhale food, yes, but since I've been on the medication I just eat anything and everything. My eyes haven't been bigger than my stomach once.

3) Upset stomach: I get heartburn sometimes, not too badly, but occasionally. All week though I've had to take like 2 pepcids a day. Very unusual.

These symptoms, after reading the possible other side affects, I will gladly and happily take. Following are a list of other side affects: black stools, "coffee-ground" vomit (seriously!), puffy face, seizures, thinning skin, unusual hair growth, vision changes. It's like, what the hell... Anyway, that's what I'm dealing with right now kids. It's always something. I hope you enjoyed my little story. There's no way to wrap this one up except by saying Mono (or something like it) has been a pain in my ass. Cheers.

Weekend Number 18: New England

2007-06-02T08:30:00.000-07:00

Firstly, let me disclaim that this trip was Weekend Number 18 (in May), but due to my Blog-cation, I am not writing it until now. Let us commence.

Let's start with the beginning this time. The beginning isn't really the weekend at all, but it's my blog--deal with it. The beginning was a Thursday night when I had a red-eye flight to Boston. I've never been to Boston (nor Massachusetts, nor New England) and thought it would be a lovely opportunity to go. John was there for work (about 3-weeks) and I figured Pfizer wouldn't mind me bunking with John while they pay for the hotel. Lovely. So it's a Thursday night, I go through security, yada yada, normal stuff, get on the plane, great.

We are flying, everything is normal, it's a red-eye, we are all getting sleepy when, out of nowhere comes the flight attendant and her PA to the tune of, "Thank you for choosing Delta. We are glad we have jobs because we are officially out of bankruptcy now, and today/tomorrow (cuz it would be Friday on the East Coast) marks the official day we are back on the NYSE (she didn't say the acronym but yeah, it's easier). We would like to have you join us in celebrating with a champagne toast." The lady next to me, whom I think fondly of to this day, kinda gave me a look like, "Shit--did she say, champs!?" And I gave her the same look back. So the flight attendants scuttle down the isles, passing out tiny, almost thimble-sized containers of champagne. Had a sip, then another, it was gone, great. Thank you Delta. So I'm sitting here, with my new BFF "36A" (that's not her bra size, that's her seat assignment) and neither of us could sleep. It was like a cooky boots crazyland. Everyone--quite literally everyone--was fast asleep except me and 36A. It was midnight in San Diego, it was 3:00 am (insert Matchbox 20 song) in Boston, and I was up up up. Thank GOD there was an in-flight movie, which who says that, but it was a movie with Mandy Moore (who I adore), so I watched that. So did 36A but she didn't have headphones so she umm, just watched it I guess. Hmm... now that I think about it, I love Mandy Moore so much I must have gasped a couple times (like, you know, the gay-gasp), and maybe I kept 36A up the whole time. Well, water under the bridge.

Okay, I get to Boston it's about a zillion in the morning at this point, and I'm greeting by bright-eyed John with a sign that says, "Mr. Shyne" and something else like "Leone Tours -we only provide the best." or something like that. Well, that's a very, very cute gesture, however, it was done with a crumply sheet of cardboard and a big ol' black sharpie, so... it looked like some homeless person's sign. Anyway... nice gesture, not the best execution, and "A" for effort. John and I take the "T" (that's Boston's "MAX" or "BART" if you will) back to the hotel, I finally sleep, then we get up and head out.

Boston is very cute, very historic, with stout, brick buildings from the 1700's neighboring glass and metal high rises from the 2000's. It's very cool. Oh and by cool, I mean cold. It was the beginning of May and it was still at temperatures San Diego has never seen before. Ever. My thoughts on Boston: it's nothing but churches, pubs, and Paul Revere. That's it. That night we go out to one of the gay bars, The Machine (the gays have the funniest names for stuff). We go there, and again LITERALLY no one spoke to us. I was like, "What the freakin' hell is going on?" I guess people in Boston need to conserve all their energy to sustaining human body temperature and they cannot afford to waste precious calories on interaction--I guess one could call them fidget bitches. HA! I even laughed at that.

Okay the next day John and I took this walking tour of Boston. So we get to where they are all meeting, pay the guide and go. Now, if you all don't know I like walking tours--I like the narration and the anecdotes, it's lovely--but I seriously could have done what she did, if not better, and I don't even live there. We would be walking along and like, there'd be a plaque on a building, she'd go up and read it, then recite what it said. Like, I paid you for what? I mean, she had other stories and stuff, but it was just so ridiculously funny. She's all, "Oh what's this? Oh this is interesting! Everybody! Group! Please come look at this!" You're joking me, lady. And she wasn't even dressed up like Mother Goose or Paul Revere or whatever. Anyway, it was still money worth spent (more so for the story I get to tell of the tour, rather than the tour itself). Okay, so later we had plans--well, John had plans--I had no idea what they were. I guess that's called a surprise. John took me to the "Theatre District" and the whole time I was thinking to myself, "Shit--he better have not gotten tickets to a musical--he knows how much I dislike musicals." We turn into some alley, then up stairs, and it turns out we got tix to Blue Man Group.

Relief.

So we did the Blue Man group, they pounded their drums and ate cereal and ran around acting like mute fools, but it was a very nice show and I very much enjoyed the surprise (and it wasn't a musical). After the show we go to some pub, eat our food, some guy smashes his hand into a beer glass, and we leave, back into the winter wonderland that was Boston. The next day was a little more leisurely--we went to the iMax at the Boston Aquarium and watched a show on whales (I was happy) and took a city tour via Old Town Trolley. We have these in SD too; you know, the orange and green bus/trolley looking contraptions that are zipping all over town. Anyway, it was very, very cool and I would recommend them to anyone--worth the money. We saw Paul Revere's house, the Boston Convention Center, The Big Dig, all the Boston sights. The next day we just had a nice breakfast in South Boston and I went back to the airport (cuz John still had work on the East Coast to do).

Well, that pretty much sums up my trip and my weekend. Weekend Number 18, you'll be remembered as the most "wicked sweet bro'" weekend of 2007. Lovely.

Broken

2007-05-20T23:31:00.001-07:00

Well, where do I start? One would presume the beginning but the beginning isn't a beginning at all. I guess I should just come out with it: John and I broke up. I know, I know, please people, stay seated. I don't really have much to "blog" about it, as it is a personal subject between him and me, but I wanted to just say for the record that I've absolutely enjoyed my relationship with John; he's such a great guy and I think the world of him. We are simply changing the terms and conditions of our relationship to reflect a friendship rather than boyfriendship (that should be a word huh?). Anyway, I wouldn't consider myself single either, because single would denote availability--I'm non-anything. I'm a unisexual (just me, baby) for the time being. And who knows, maybe we are making a mistake (and by "we" I mean "me"--I'm the one that decided it was probably for the best to break it off). Maybe we will get back together, and maybe it will be sooner, maybe it will be later, maybe it will never be the same again, but all I know is I had a great year, I learned a lot about myself and I have some amazing and special memories from my time close with him. I am fine, a little shaken, but I'm good. John and I had talks about this for almost 2 weeks deciding on what would be for the greater good and all that crap, and after our last conversation I'm feeling a lot better about things (good enough to talk freely about it now). If you want to hear more, than ask. and if you want to check in with Johnny, please do not hesitate to ask me for his email (I don't want to publish it on here--a public blog). Anyway... that's all I have to say tonight.

Oh and thanks everyone for your patience with my little blog vacation. Obviously had some stuff on my mind that I couldn't spurt out onto this darn thing. Until next time, bloggettes. I promise, I'll have some good stuff next time!

Weekend Number 16: Earth Dizzle fo' Shizzle

2007-04-23T22:22:00.000-07:00

Saturday was a waste. I'm skipping it, thanks (it's my blog; I'll do whatever the hell I want).

Sunday was it though. So my roommate, Mike, and another great friend of mine, Vince (both of whom I've blogged about before) ran in the La Jolla Half Marathon (which I will refere to as the LJ1/2 from now on). So they had to be up in La Jolla at about half past zero in the morning to warm up and stretch and wax and breathe and kick and tai bo and all that. They run, I'm sure it's amazing and then they are done. And get back in their cars and ruin the environment. Okay, so I meet Vince at Urban Mo's (for you non-San Diegans, Mo's is an open-patio burger bar that's SUPER popular on Sunday mornings--and for those don't know, "Mo" is short for "homo"). Okay, meet Vince there apres his run (John and I walked--the environment) and had a celebritory cocktail. Horray! We order some food, meet up with a couple other friends, one of whom is Mr. Alex Blayden (some may refered to him as Mackinzie Tartan). After consuming our fried, delicious Earth Day feast we casually jaunt to Starbucks ready to concume our daily allowance of calories in one cup. So we get there, order a double-what-the-fuckie and enjoy our coffees on the patio, watching the passerbyers. So it's alex, vince, me, some group of people we literally ran into on the walk over (walking, yes, Earth Day) and some other randoms. It was like 10 of us. Lovely.

Suddenly, and without warning, a figure cloaked orange and sagging shorts materializes onto the patio and starts barraging our congregation with stammering nonsense. Yeah. This guy just starts talking about all this stuff like Ibiza platinum memberships and how we are bringing sexy back and how he asked us if we had any vicodin ("Oh shoot, I gave my last one away to the last crazy, creepy kook that asked me for one. Sorry."). He was six kinds of crazy. At least.

We devised a plan to get rid of him (and get booze back in our system) and went to ANOTHER stop on our Earth Day tour, to Baja Betty's. So Baja Betty's is, the exact, exact same as Urban Mo's (previously mentioned) except instead of burgers it's burritos. Clever. So we dominate the patio of Betty's and order beers by the bucket and just talk about everything there ever was to talk about: work, school, madonna, boys, talking inanimate objects, strangers in orange, sunshine, the LJ1/2, music, clogging, etc. We were there from, oh let's say 2:00 pm to, well, until it started to rain, which was approximately 9:00 pm. It was fantastic though. It was the perfect.... oh, I forgot something. There is this troop of trannies that run around San Diego causing all sorts of ruckus called the Sisters of Purpetual Induldgence. They wear white, white faces and red lips and huge eyelashes and look like goth clowns. Goth tranny clowns actually. That's what I look for in a man, okay. No. So they were being SO funny and on their way by they were saying happy Earth Day to us and we started up a chorus of, "Happy Earth Day to you, happy Earth Day to you..." (like the birthday song right?) I pretty much died of laughter afterwards. It was soo freaking funny! So funny. They didn't think they were going to get any bite with their bark.

So anyway, that was pretty much it. A gaggle of cute boys sitting around a patio, drinking quite literally all day and laughing and bonding. Damn what a kick-ass Sunday. Weekend Number 16, you're sure to give the biggest bang for your buck.

Weekend Number 15: J'adore Portland parti deux

2007-04-15T22:46:00.000-07:00

(Reader: if you're starting here, please read "J'adore Portland" first. Thanks.)

Brother's think their they greatest thing since sliced hops. We did a couple beer samples and the went to the actual brewery. We got to see these HUGE vats of beer (or soon-to-be-beer) and watch it churn and spray and purify and Saturday I planned two activities ahead of time that were to be surprises for John: the first was a tour of the Widmer Brothers Brewery. We went to industrial North East Portland and arrived at the all-brick, super cute brewery. The hostess escorts us to the boardroom where we will soon meet with our tour guide. Other people start to filter in and soon after the tour guide arrives and we begin. They started with a movie on how beer is made and how it furments and all that. It was super, super cool. We received a Widmer Brother's glass and a bottle opener at the end of the tour and headed off to our next destination.

We arrived now in Old Town Portland where we took a tour of the "Portland Underground." Old Town Portland was very similar to San Diego's historic Stingaree district. It was at one time brothels, casino parlors, opium dens, etc. Portland, being a "port" town and had, what many other port towns called, "shanghaiing." What would happen is when some one was in this part of town and strolling down the streets intoxicated, inebriated or otherwise, they would be knocked-out, kidnapped and then drug down to the harbor and sold to a ship captain as a slave. This started around the 1850's and quickly increased in severity over the years. There was a network of tunnels that were constructed under buildings that made it easier to trap, hide and transport victims. The slavers started buying off the police force, politicians and barkeeps to just turn the other way. In the height of the Shanghaiing, it was 3,000 men a year that would be kidnapped and it lasted till 1941, World War II. The tour actually took us underground into the catacomb tunnels, and we saw some of the artifacts and actual holding cells of these people. It was very interesting to hear about the historic part of Portland, but I could have DEFINITELY done without all the campfire-ghost story-bull hockey. "If you squint your eyes, some people have said they've seen the whistler who whistled until they died....oooohh booga booga booga." Bitch please.

Okay so then what, Oh! So we get done with the Old Town tour and go to Matt's get our belongings and go to a pre-party. A pre-party to what you might ask? The red dress party!! Holla! Okay, so the red dress party is just a giant warehouse party with a bunch of men (yes, gay) in dresses. Not all are drag queens, but the ones who are are probably my old roommates. Oh yeah... okay so we go to Starbuck's house (that's his nickname, is birth name is Dave). Anyway, we get there, have a beer, muster up the balls (or not-balls) to put on a glitzy, glamorous red dress. John's was this full-length, beaded halter top gown and mine was this 80's Tiffany-ish sweater dress. It was hideous. Okay so started to bitch about how it was a little itchy and some guy there was like, "Oh, I brought this other dress that I ended up not wearing but you should totally try it." I tried it on, and what a dream come true. It is totally like a fairytale figure skater dress. It was SOO gay! And if I spun in a circle, my underwear would show, so I was happy. Okay, so we drink, great, and head off the red dress party (except John had a stomach ache and didn't end up going).

The red dress party was like, a line to get in another line, to get in ANOTHER line... uuggg. There was a line to get in the door (outdoors thanks), there was a line to get a cocktail (again, outdoors) and ANOTHER line to go the bathroom (yup...outdoors). This is not San Diego either, this is Portland, Oregon, on the river, freezing, drizzling cold. But so fun. Super fun. so we drink, eat, giggle, twirl, giggle more and go down to Silverado. For are you non-Portlanders, it's this very classy establishment, almost members-only, that the very upper-crust of society patrons. It's a total divy gay strip bar. So we changed out of our red dresses on the streets of downtown Portland (did I mention how classy I am?) and go to Silverado, meet up with friends, drink, twirl, tip, they twirl, tip again, drink and leave. It was fun.

Sunday morning Kurtis (some may know him as Asshole) came home from his work trip. Work flew him to Twinkistan or something and he was like a big in shit. Anyway, Mattgraves picked him up from the airport then we all went out to brunch--which was the most ridiculous meal I've ever had. We walk in and the hostess is like, "Okay yeah, table for four? Okay right this way (read it in a little Asian-lady-Miss-Swan voice)." We sit down, order some food and they are pestering us like, "You can't eat all that? You come wash dishes when you're finished..." and like, rubbing our heads and just being kooky. I can't even explain it. The tip of the iceberg was when I was watching the little girl that was staring into the wall, nose-to-wallpaper, like it was television screen, and I whip around and see this Asian lady cutting Mattgraves' pancake with HIS fork and putting it in HIS mouth. I checked out for the rest of the meal. I was in Kookykook Kooksville. So weird. Okay, so we get to the airport, get on our plane, talk about the amazing time we shared and about how random of a blog the whole weekend is going to make. So there you go.

Portland's fucking weird.

J'adore Portland

2007-04-15T22:43:00.000-07:00

Our adventure starts on a Thursday evening, after I get off from work, race to school to turn in my homework to my teachers dropbox (because I was missing class to go to Portland) and head to the airport. My roommate Mike took John and I too the airport and we bolted right to the security line (we were already checked in and we had no bags to check thank goodness). We see our good friend Allan who works at the airport and take him through the line with us. Once through the drones of people we make our way to the counter and--guess what, our flight's delayed. Crap. That's like the worst thing, well, not THE worst, but you get where I'm going. We happen to notice on a neighboring reader-board there is another flight to Portland that takes off in about 30-minutes (compared the the 2-hours we'd probably have to wait for OUR flight). We ask the lady at the ticketing counter if we can get on (we didn't check luggage remember) and she said, "You'd have to pay the difference in fair to change airplanes... but since your flight is delayed, I'm going to just put you on." Oh thank goodness! Oh crap. Thank Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth for shining down upon Terminal 1 of San Diego International.

Okay, so we get on the plane, fly in, great, good for us, land, meet one of my best friends, Mattgraves (it's really "Matt (space) Graves" but you say it like one word--for no reason at all, it's just fun). So we meet Mattgraves and head to a place called Doug Fir. It's this super-cute, hipster, modern bar that looks like a funky, futuristic log cabin type thing. There we meet up with some friends, on of whom is Celess. Celess and I met in French class (hence the "j'adore") and we've stuck ever since. She was leaving over the weekend and could only see us on this evening, so we made it work. After jovial rekindling We went downtown to a gay bar with a cocktail or two in our bellies, had another drink there and went home (Mattgraves had to work the next day). While we were downtown at the bar though, I see a familiar drunken homo, wedged in the corner of the room, slouched on a piece of furniture. I order Mattgraves to swiftly inspect. To our surprise it was Dan Quiearcuigrocia! He's another super-great friend of mine whom I was very excited to see. Yay! Okay so we drank, laughed, I spit an ice cube in Mattgraves' mouth by accident (but it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen/done) and we went home and crashed.

The next morning (Friday) John and I woke up and hustled out the door to take a walking adventure of downtown Portland. Since it was Friday, everyone was working, which was great because we got to spend the day to ourselves. Our first stop was a restaurant called Southpark. It's one of my favorites places in Portland. I took my mom their a couple times when she visited me. It's just a super cute restaurant with fantastic ambiance and delicious cuisine. It's just lovely. It's like high-end but their lunch menus are actually quite affordable. Anyway, okay, after lunch we walked down to the "U District" where Portland State University is, then down along Broadway and down to the waterfront. It was very pleasant walking around a city where you don't live yet being completely familiar with your surroundings. Anyway... at the waterfront we caught the MAX (the public transit lightrail--which is free in downtown) and went back to the middle of downtown to meet up with my former boss, Susanne, for a cocktail. Consumed said cocktails, visited a couple other stores then headed back to Mattgraves' house.

Mattgraves decided to have a little BBQ at his place and we invited a few friends over and had a mary ol' time. We drank, ate and conversed. After the BBQ commenced Mattgraves convinced us to go to this club called Halocene; they were having some event called "Gaycation." (The gays think they are so clever with their play on words). I've been to this club before actually, but it was in a fashion show for Portland Fashion week a couple years ago and was runway model (you better work...). Anyway, this night it was so far from a gaycation it was a gaytastrophe. It was purGAYtory. Let me explain: it was NOT a bunch of cute gays running around in muscle shirts and tank tops, drinking blended drinks--no--it was a bunch of gnarly lesbians and their b.o. and attidutes and craziness, making out with each other or cutting in line and just being rude. We begged Mattgraves for departure and he finally caves (why he was enjoying himself is still a mattgraves mystery). We go BACK downtown to the same gay bar we were at the night before and play video poker (well, Mattgraves played video poker) and drank and shortly after went home. Phew!

Continue Story onto Weekend Number 15.

The Me Only I Know

2007-04-08T21:12:00.000-07:00

The title may not be easily understandable, but this entry is to capture the pieces of me that only I know. Everyone has activities they do only in the company of themselves--all the way from talking to one's self to dressing in women's clothing (not strange for a woman I guess but odd for a man in most cases). Following are some of my own personal observations about myself that I can share:

Quasimodo: I tend to make funny faces in the mirror. I like making scary faces, ugly faces, animal faces, puffy faces, whatever kind of face I make. The elevators at both my house and work all have mirrored walls in them and are prime face-making real estate. What else is one going to do in the elevator by themselves for the 4-seconds it takes to go from first floor to ? Honestly.

Back-up Singer: We ALL do this--I sing. I sing in the car. I will gladly sing the newest Madonna tune in the privacy of my glass-house Cavalier. It's so interesting how cars are 360' of glass and yet we think NO one can see us, we can just see all of them. I'm sure I look like such a fool, but come on, like 100% of all the other driver's are doing it, thinking of doing it, or wishing they were doing it.

Psychic Public Servant: This is an odd one, and it's not that I truly think I can move things with my mind, but after playing the X-men game on PS2 so much and playing specific characters that can move things with their minds, I sometimes envision THEM moving things with their minds in real life, but through me. Following? Example: As I'm walking down the street maybe I see a piece of garbage lying there, waiting patiently for someone to scoop it up and throw it away. I have envisioned the object being levitated from its current location to a nearby trash container. I'm not doing it, an X-man is, but I still imagine myself making it happen? Got it now? If you don't got it now, just forget about it--read on.

Cigarette Vigilante: This is a stretch too but hear me out. I don't like smoking. It's a horrible, ugly habit and may you find the strength if you do smoke to quit somehow. This is my over-active imagination envisioning scenarios again, but I imagine myself just walking up to someone, grabbing the lit or soon-to-be-lit cigarette from their lips/fingers and flicking it casually into the street--without regret or remorse. It's not that I hate smokers, it's that I hate smoking. Smokers (most of them--honestly) are just not courteous and borderline-obnoxious. But if you know one than they are lovely.

I'm sure there will be many more to come but let's start with this for now. Enjoy.

Wisdom is a Dish Best Served Mushy

2007-03-30T09:23:00.000-07:00

About 6-months ago I woke up with a horrible stabbing pain in my mouth. After prolonged agony I found what I thought was a 5th wisdom tooth coming in. After a moment of panic and confusion, I figured out that my wisdom tooth that had already come in, only it had started to shift to the side, outward toward my jawbone and was scraping against bone. It was one of the most painful experiences I've had. I called up my dentist who recommended an oral surgeon for the task. I rang the surgeon's office and they were like, "We can get you in for a consultation tomorrow but we can't extract until about 3-weeks." I gasped (surely a gay-gasp) and replied, "If you don't get this thing out tomorrow I'm going to do have to do it myself." She started to laugh and I quickly said, "Mm, I'm not kidding. This has to come out."

She penciled me in and the doc came in early to see me the NEXT DAY, which was so great, and he removed my wisdom tooth (which was only numero quatro, not a 5th wisdom tooth (which can actually happen, by the way). So anyway I sent them a "thank you" card for seeing me so quickly and being so helpful. Good for me. This isn't the point of this story so let's get to it:

I scheduled an appointment to get my OTHER three wisdom teeth removed preventatively, avoiding the chance of future pain and discomfort. My roommate Mike was free the day of my surgery and offered to take me there and help me out. Props to Mike. So we get to the oral surgeon's office and I check-in with the receptionist, pay my bill and soon after head back. The people had all remembered me from last time and were very nice. I get in the doctor's chair and the oral surgeon comes in the room. He thanked me gratefully for sending a "thank you" card--I guess they rarely get them, considering they torture people for a living. I said, "well, my Mom raised me properly yada yada," or something like that. Props to Momma. So they hook me up to an IV and put a heart monitor on me and start strapping me down to the bed. Like, my arms, legs, chest, everything. He said that I might have a dream when I go under and they don't want to risk me running a marathon in my dreams while they are operating. So I'm all hooked up and have a gas mask on my face and the doctor says, "We just served you your favorite martini, and you're at your best friend's party and..." OUT. The next thing I know, I'm in the lobby of the hospital, in a wheel chair, with a mouthful of gauze and a head wrap, waiting for Mike to bring the car around. There was a lot I missed I guess. Following is the interim:

Mike brought his laptop so he could get some emails out while I was being operated on. A mere 15-minutes after I go back to the OR, the nurse emerges and says to Mike, "We're all finished. Do you want to go back and see him?" Mike walks back with the nurse, walks in and finds me with my pants around my knees saying, "SURPRISE!" I guess I thought it would have been funny--nay hilarious--if I flashed Mike while high as kite. Front side, not back. Front. Well, it would have been funny if the nurse wasn't in the room also. She bolts out of the door, yelping like a kicked dog. She got the doctor and brought him into the room. He sternly questions, "Did you just do what she said you did?" I bashfully remain quiet and he evidently notices my fly is still down. My fate is sealed. He says, "That's unacceptable--but I'll let you get away with it because you're so drugged up,"In like a doctor-y kinda parent tone. Yeah.

The doctor escorts Mike and I to a "containment room" where I can be monitored to make sure I don't have an allergic reaction to the anesthetics. While we are in there some how Mike produces a book on Balboa Park. I start reciting everything there ever was to know about Balboa Park: its history, its origin--all while I have a literal mouth FULL of gauze. I was completely inaudible but Mike let me ramble on, knowing that if he said anything I would try removing the gauze from my bleeding oral cavity.

After everything that happened at the oral surgeon's office, Mike and I head to Rite Aid to get my prescription filled. We do so and afterwards walk across the street to Jamba Juice. Mind you I'm extremely drugged-up and have a mouthful of cotton. The lady takes one look at me, with my puffy cheeks, glazed-over eyes, and icy head wrap and says, "Wisdom teeth, huh?" This little cashier must have seen the like before. We get our Jamba and head back to Rite Aid, get my prescription and head home. I continue to lie on the couch in a groggy, half-lucid state for the next day or so and in a tremendous amount of pain.

My diet now consists of pudding, mashed potatoes, soup, broth and yogurt. Wisdom is a dish best served mushy.

Weekend Number 12: Sunday

2007-03-27T23:38:00.000-07:00

With Saturday behind us and the day chalk-full (I wonder where that saying comes from) of exciting activities, John and I wake up early (like 7:45 am--and trust me, for gays on a Sunday, that's like walking on water--miracle) and hit the gym. After an invigorating workout we rendez-vous with our friends David and Todd (another gay couple) and get some brunch. We go to a place called the Mission; I have had heard of it several times by this point but still never went. Excellent choice. Great food, good (enough) service, horrible chocolate mike (don't ever order it from them) but in-out-eat-yum-burp-done and that's all I wanted.

We had a task at hand. We had a goal. We--David, Todd, John and I--had plans: we were going to the Cat Show. I said it--Cat Show. It's like a dog show, except there are more gays and old ladies. Not like, the little old ladies with blue hair that drive 110 miles per hour and sit on a stack of phone books to see over the steering wheel, but like, the old ladies with big, homemade earrings and a sweater with a big cat on it and it says "My cat's shit don't stink" or some bull like that. Oh god. The cats were fun--some beautiful and exotic looking breeds--but the real entertainment was the freak show parade of these ladies and gays. It's like, they were so serious about these cats and how they were brushed a certain way and blow-dried and teased and probably sedated that it was a miracle both the owner and the cat actually made it to the venue.

Let me just say something: cats are predators. Brushed fur does not make them happy, death and carnage does. Let them eat cake. Mice rather. Let them eat Micecake. After the Cat Show (I still can't believe I went to a freaking cat show) we walked to Horton Plaza and casually let time slink by before preparing ourselves for a fantastic and fabulous evening at hand. My dear friend, and peanut, Vince had a little b-day celebration at Lei Lounge. Lei Lounge is a venue unlike any other really--it's hip, it's chic, it's smart--it's SO Vince. It was perf'. The event started out with cool cocktails and warm conversations over the fire pit and in the reserved cabanas. More and more people started to gather and a serious crowd had developed. Vince's parents and brother and all of Vince's close friends and it really was just a fantastic time--an enviable birthday event for sure. Allan, Vince's homohusband, even made a video montage of people that couldn't be at Lei (like former Talk Soup personality Hal Sparks) wishing him a wonderful two-five. Then there was cake (but, no Micecake). It was cupcakes on tiered serveware and just lovely lovely lovely. It gets better--there was a hosted champagne toast to accompany these said cupcakes. Let me just explain how I looked: pink shirt, fierce jeans, bitchin' hair, champagne glass in one hand, cupcake AND a partially spilling martini in the other and a big cupcake-eating grin on my face. Oh, to die for. John you're one lucky bitch. OH OH I forgot to mention it was a total pink party, where everyone had to have something on that was pink. Vince, you're a dream come true (and we happen to have identical taste--coincidence? No. Fate.). Fantastic. Finally the night progresses, (remember, this is Sunday the whole time) and it is time for John and I to retire. He pretty much pours me into the passenger seat of my car and escorts us home.

That was pretty much my weekend in review. I learned that my signature sucks (if you're a gypsy), steak is now on the black market (watch out cocaine), animals can be spoiled (and whored) and Vince is truly lovely (with a capital Meow). Thank you for tuning in and there will definitely be more to come shortly. Signing off.

Weekend Number 12: Saturday

2007-03-27T23:09:00.000-07:00

This weekend was particularly kooky. Where do I even begin. Well, let's start with the morning I guess. Saturday John and I woke up, made the bed, un-made the bed (okaay!), and cooked up some breakfast. I love sandwiches, which I've already confessed to you, my faithful bloggettes, so we made breakfast sandwiches. We decided to recreate Jack In the Box's amazing breakfast ciabatta sandwiches . Okay, let's explain these little joyful nuggets: they are warm, soft ciabatta with two fried eggs, melted American cheese and a touch of butter, warmed and made fresh to order. Crap my mouth is watering just thinkin' of them. So we got some ciabatta bread, eggs, cheese, all the goods right? The bread was tough, the cheese wasn't gooey enough and it just wasn't the same--it was good, but not the same. After my tasty yet unsatisfying breakfast we thought to ourselves (outloud), well let's take a walk. Where to? We could walk to the pet store and stare into the windows at all the little kitties and puppies--not enough... we came to a new conclusion: The Zoo.

John lives in Hillcrest and the Zoo is in Balboa Park--not far, not far at all. We took a medium-paced stroll down University Avenue, then Park Boulevard to our destination of the world famous San Diego Zoo. We had a leisurely jont through the park, visiting the petting zoo, the pygmy marmosets and the wolf's monkey exhibit (Kurtis, Matt, Mark and Mike you know what I'm talking about). After dodging strollers and colliding with families no less than 5 strong, we headed to our next destination: The Psychic Fair. My friend Patti at work turned me onto this activity. So freakin' random. It was in like a community center and you pay ten bucks and get two free readings of your choice (permitting availability). First I had my astrology read; she was gooood. I had chills the whole time and everything she said was pretty dead on--she said I was a healer in a past life and I'm very creative and I'm in a relationship right now and I breathe out of my nostrils and I'm so good at blinking it comes almost naturally to me. Amazing. The tarot card lady was next and like "you'll meet a celebrity in 6-months time and you're about to make changes and some things will stay the same and voodoo blah blah"and I just wasn't having her. Lastly they also had free hand writing analysis. This lady pointed at, like a "t" and was like "you're a strong individual" and then would point at a "w" and would be all "you like salty foods" and lastly was like "you're signature is shitty and you push people away." what the hell kind of reading is that!? You're supposed to make me feel better about myself, gypsy whore. I bet her signature is a picture of her shooting up heroine. Bitch.

After the Psychic Fair we were headed back to John's house, but before returning to our destination I ordered a detour. Two words: Cold Stone. oooooh yes, I said it. I love Coldstone Creamery. It's like a vacation to Pleasure Town for my taste buds and oooh was it so well deserved. After all it was reward for walking far and wide. I ordered my ice cream treat (politely if I may add) and sat in front of the store, dining on this confection whilst basking in both the sun's rays and the envious glares of the passer-byers.

One such passer-byer was more like a passer-seller--you know the type: a person of transient status approaches you with the sale of goods. Goods which most likely were stolen or looted and now they are trying to liquidate them into cash so they can buy smack or slick or sluck or whatever it is they buy. Sometimes it's flashlights or radios or Chinese babies or whatever. This particular individual asked if I wanted to buy steak from him. Steak.

Steak.

He tried to sell me steak. Steak that came from Whole Foods. He pleaded that he purchased this steak with his food stamps and is willing to sell it for ten dollars. Is that what steak goes for? How do you meat eaters survive? I mean, no wonder why all you all aren't bitchin' about gas prices as much as I am cuz you're too busy bitching about steak prices. "Come on, buddy. It's grade A, New York Strip [steak]." "No thanks," I quickly and decidedly declined.

I could have said, "Sorry, I'm vegetarian," but that would have been something he would have expected so I just kept it simple. No. Well, the sales person leaves, I finish my delicacy and John and I make our way back to his place, where we play X-men on the PS2 until I cannot even pry my bloodshot, dried-out eyes open any longer. Time for bed. (Continued on next chapter.)

Weekend Number 10

2007-03-13T20:38:00.000-07:00

This weekend was for sure a blast. For sure. I've got to say that moving to San Diego was a blessing, and the climate alone has really made me enjoy life a little more. Saturday was a busy day. Saturday wasn't much, however I did see "300" and let me just say this, it was bad ass. For sure. It was such a manly, epic, visually flawless, beautiful, strong and just a kick-butt, drag-out, bad-ass awesome movie. You have to go see it in the theatres. For sure.

Sunday aka daylight savings was the highlight. I think it was the warmest day San Diego has had all year, and if not the warmest, definitely the warmest I've been able to enjoy. I met up with a smattering of close friends for brunch. We went to Dmood. For you non-SDers, Dmood is a Persian restaurant serving breakfast, lunch and dinner and has great decor, lounge music, very cheap cocktails (comparatively), a tasty array of food and is still "undiscovered" by the other brunch-goers and therefore very low traffice still. At one point we were the only party in the restaurant. It was fantastic. Fore sure. I will say that I've heard from people--as was Sunday--the service is inconsistent. Sometimes good and sometimes bad. Either way it was a smashing brunch full of conversation and merriment. And Marys (mom, that's a gay term used for "gay guy," like "Hey, Mary...")

Anyway, that was just the beginning; apres brunch we went to my friend Vince's condo at the El Cortez to lounge by the pool in the smoldering winter sun. What a wonderful idea. For sure. The El Cortez used to be a hotel and since has renovated and converted to a condominium building. Anyway, back to the day at hand: we made vodka-lemonade-something-or-others and just had a pleasant time. The story doesn't stop there; several of Vince's fellow condo tenants showed up around the same time as we did, and we all got to talking and laughing and conversing and lying poolside, simply soaking in the company as well as the rays for hours. Once the sun hid behind the neighboring buildings of downtown, we moved to one of the condo tenant's places, with access to a large patio area and a barbecue on-site. We drank more, barbecued (I had some vegetarian meat stuff) and spent the cooling evening with all these new friends. Nine o'clock rolls around and after the sun, food, and booze it's time to retire early. John and I go back to his house and just crash. What a wonderful weekend. For sure.

Weekend number 10, you will surely be remembered as the must unexpected weekend of them all.

Chocolate Ain't So Sweet

2007-03-01T21:13:00.001-08:00

Firstly, Jessie don't worry--this posting isn't really about chocolate (she has a small obsession--and by small I mean she can't go a day without).

As most of you may know I have the LG Chocolate phone. It's sleek, it's modern, it's stylish. It's perfect for a sleek, modern, stylish man like myself, however... Chocolate ain't so sweet.

Firstly, let's talk about the sheer mechanics of the device; the "end call" button is NOT located on the front face of the phone with every other button ever since the history of telephones, rather, it is located on the side. The side of which a right hander's index finger will be on or where a left hander's thumb will be on. furthermore, it is a sensitive button. I've hung up on people tons of times. Tons. Sorry everybody.

Battery life. Or, battery half-life more like it. When one purchases the phone they give you two batteries--that should have been a red flag in hind-sight.

Next, I've never had so many problems with dropped calls. "System Is Busy," or "Connection Lost," or "Network is Unavailable," are all common excuses--excuses which my phone casually alerts me. Those should be the names of CDs, never error messages.

Grrr!! I feel like pulling a Donatella and just throwing my phone at somebody--like Catherine Zeta Jones. I've had a Nokia ever since day 1 of having phones and I sincerely miss the sweet, subtle and user-friendly ways of the Nokia. T-Mobile has been great to me, and again I've never EVER had an issue until this damn phoned marched it's way from the advertizers to my front, right pocket. Oh yeah, Chocolate doesn't have speaker phone either. Chocolate has circular, non-terminating menus. Chocolate is a sleek, modern, and stylish disaster. I'm bitter. I'm bitter from Chocolate.

Off With Their Heads!

2007-03-01T21:12:00.001-08:00

Today was a day that shook the walls of my office; today three people were laid off. That may not be a big deal to all of you, my faithful readers, but to me that's 3 less familiar faces I have at work every day. I loved these people professionally and personally and only wish good things for them.

One was an accountant: she has been with the company for 9 years or something like that, has a 1 year old (or 2--same thing), and really is sweet. But I saw that coming; they are "centralizing" our accounting so it all comes from one office. She was to be expected.

Another blind-sided me: she was a sales person and just finished a $1 million (or 2--same thing) program and then, comes back to the office with a pink slip on her chair. That sucks!

The third was completely out of the blue: she was a sales assistant to our VP of West Coast Sales. She didn't deserve it at all--she's talented, she's energetic, NEVER complained a bit about anything, loves the industry (well, okay likes) and is just a great, great person. She should have never been cut.

So get this though--One quit yesterday and another is in the process of quitting and yet another had her last day last Friday. Add my GM who resigned in January that's 7 people out the door in 60-days. Holy (insert garage word here)!!

Why so shaken, Stevie-hates-bacon? If anyone else is going to get canned next--it's me. No, no, don't say it "You could lose your job at any time. You could get in a car crash or wake up in a coma (which actually that's like saying 'you'd fall asleep alert')." Whatever, anyway, if there is any more fat to be cut from the money pig, it would be me. I was close to the bottom of the pole and now I AM the bottom of the pole. I'm not going to let it get to me though. There's plenty of fish in the barrel to shoot (is what it seems like, okay). It's fine. I'm fine...

But lord knows I'm gonna start lookin'--just in case. I'd rather have an ace up my sleeve than leave the table with no chips. You got it? Damn right you do. Signing out and sorry again it took me so long to get another post up. Bite.

In Your Face, Rockstar!

2007-02-17T07:49:00.000-08:00

As all of you readers may know I'm attending college again (new reader? please check out the blog entry "Third-First Day of School"). We were given the task of impromptu speeches to do in my oral comm class, as an exercise of readiness and swiftness. As I'm sure you've guessed I go up in front of the class, dazzled everyone away with my charm and poise and return to my seat to the applause I well deserved. I owned that speech--and funny thing is, I honestly don't remember anything I said, due to my nerves. Good for me, Steven Shyne.

Other students face the gambit but their nerves get the best of them and they suffer through the whole speech. Well, another student approaches the front of the class and gave his impromptu speech on "if he were a rockstar" or something nutty like that. This kid is still in high school and attending City College at night to get a jump start on his college career. Anyway, he blows my speech out of the water and receives more whistling and clapping than I thought possible from a improv college speech class audience. He now is forever known as "Rockstar" due to the nature of his speech.

The next day he walks into class and everyone student, as well as the instructor, greets him as "Rockstar." He is smug with victory and basks in his impromptu glory. However I have an ace up my sleeve--it's called "current event speech." The assignment we previously had was an impromptu speech--a spilling of words off the cuff. Today we are exercising a more decided and planned approach to public speaking. I've been practicing and know my topic like the back of my hand. I waltz to the front of the room, deliver a mind-blowing account on China's inevitable acquisition of power and (after q+a) return to my chair satisfied and victorious. Rockstar--I'm sure--is shaking in his dirty little shoes at this point. Defeat is racing towards him like an impregnable, bony greyhound rounding the corner of it's last lap. He readies himself, presents his current event and to my delicious prediction, fails to meet such standards as the ones I set. He had some HPV bleeding-heart story and was unable to capture it's severity. He returns to his chair sulkily and to a splatter of hand clapping--I dare not even say applause.

He is completely unaware of our silent quarrel; he knows nothing of my wishes toward his constant defeat. You got me the first time around, but all I can say now is "in your face, Rockstar!"

Weekend Number 6

2007-02-11T11:14:00.000-08:00

Firstly I'd like to explain the title of this entry: I've decided that weekends can be a large contribution to the blog as they are a great source of activity, inspiration, and all around bad taste. Therefore I'll be categorizing weekends by it's sequential number (out of 52 weekends in a year). Last weekend was the 6th weekend of 2007--and what a weekend it was.

My roommate's birthday is actually today, but Saturday night we had a small gathering of people over at the apartment--some of Mike's coworkers, some relatives, but mostly close friends of his (and some of mine). Anyway, Mike's boyfriend David lives in Cleavland, Ohio (by his own masochistic choice) but thankfully is moving out here in a few weeks (and not soon enough, right Mike?). So the party went off without a hitch--I presume--as I was only there for the very beginning and the very end.

John (my lovely bf) and I had tickets to the symphony. How high-brow of us, I know. Actually John's a nerd in disguise and what we really had were tickets to John Williams, movie score and composer extraordinaire, direct the symphony, to such riveting classics as "The Indiana Jones Theme" and heart-renchers like "The Jaws Theme." Worry not, I wasn't in complete boredom. It was actually fun. I had a really great time--it was pretty much a combination of a Star Wars convention and a Four Seasons. There was this one guy I can remember who I'm guessing was killed off in his Dungeons & Dragons marathon or he wouldn't have been able to make it to the concert. Damn hippie. He had long, long coarse black hair, like a buffalo; a big dark suit jacket from his dad's closet (and this gentleman must have been in his late 30s; and jean cut-off shorts which, may I ask, do they still even make such a thing? Damn hippie indeed.

My bitching aside, John Williams really was amazing; he did a couple theme song I would actually know, like three Star Wars songs (bum-bum-bum bom be-bum bom be-bum) and (ba-buh ba, ba-ba-ba beee ba). What really blew me away was when he did the theme to Harry Potter and it was AMAZING. truly amazing. worth every cent I didn't spend. He also did a song from Memoires of a Geisha and that was fantastic. The nerd-audience could have cared less but I was a fat kid with cake for that song, and it was really really great.

Anyway, so then we go back to the party, grab a cocktail and start shooting the shit. Fun. a lot of people had left by this point and it was just the hardcore friends in for the long hall. It was awesome. (you hear that adam? Awesome.) So we were drinking and all of a sudden we chose to go out. Where to go, where to go... Well, as drunk as we were and as crazy as we needed to be we went to Montage. Let's see, how do I describe Montage to those in the dark. Umm... on one side it's a very large, very cool nightclub. It's three stories, with several different rooms that play different genres of music, and the top floor is an open patio and a sushi bar that's open all hours of the night. And on the other hand when I say all hours of the night, I mean all hours of the morning. I leave around two am typically, but that's because I don't do crack and can't stay up all night long. excuse me, morning long. I think it closes around 5am. No thank you. The gays love their dance music and they just want to party. Good for them, I'll keep my heart lub-dubbing the pace it's supposed to--Oh and no judgement--unless you're an obvious cooky boot and your dilated eyes about to spring out from their sockets while you're waving your glow sticks in the air. Silly gays.

So that was nice. we drank, danced, conversed, made jokes about the crazies and went home. All in all a 9.5 out of 10. Thank you weekend number 6. You wont be soon forgotten.

The Better You Do...

2007-02-08T09:48:00.000-08:00

Some of you know what I do for work, other may not have the foggiest. I'll just break it down for ya'll anyway:

I work for a company called TBA Global Events, LLC. It's not just an "event" company, it's considered a Business Communications and Connective Marketing company (so, well, okay that means event company still). Anyway, the company as a whole has produced such events (on their client's behalf) as the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, the Lance Armstrong Tour of Hope, and the Ben & Jerry's marketing campaign of "Random Acts of Cone-ness" (where street-marketing teams would go into offices or places of public service (fire departments, police stations, hospitals) and they would give out Ben & Jerry's ice cream cone products). We also did the open ceremonies for the Olympics in Italy and many other cool corporate events all around the nation and the world.

The piece of the pie that I work in is called "Destination Services" where once a Meeting Planner has planned their meetings and booked a hotel room block and reserved hotel ballroom space and contracted with a production agency (we do this too) to execute the meeting (A/V, speakers, staging, branded materials, etc.)--once they do all that they call a DMC (Destination Management Company) to produce all the other services and components AROUND the meeting such as tours, activities, airport coordination (arrivals/departures), receptions, award ceremonies, and a butt-load of other fun stuff. Pretty much we'll never say no. Holiday parties? sure. Trasnfering people A-to-B? Bring it on. Beach parties (how original)? Do it all the time.

Continuing on: yesterday I wrote a proposal for a small communications company, you may not have heard of them, AT&T, for their convention in 2008. They are going to have 4 waves of people over a course of a few days and need a large event space for this group. When I say (and by "say", I mean "type") "waves" of people, I mean 1,100 people come in all at once and are here for a short time, then the same day they leave, 500 people come in replacing them. When those people leave another group (the same day) of 435 replaces them, and when they leave the last group of 200 comes in and replaces those people. It will probably be 3 days each wave, totalling in 12 days straight of non-stop madness. A kind of madness a Meeting Planner (or a me) would love to witness (or make a commission on). So we had to find several options of event spaces that could work for 1,100 people all the way scaling down to 200 (and the 2 other tiers in between) PLUS 10 tours/activity options for this group. Think that's enough? No. We had to propose--not only San Diego--by Las Vegas, San Francisco and Phoenix as well. It was the largest proposal I've ever seen this office do and I got to be a part of it. Final product was 90-some pages in length, and it was down-right amazing and I'm sure you are all dying of boredom but I think it's freaking awesome.

So that's what I do all day long, I plan parties and make up tours and so on. It's fun and great and good for me but every job has it's dark side and future blogs I'm sure will reveal the darker side of party planners--mwah-ha-ha-ha!! (that's a cackle--fyi.) Thanks for reading--I leave you with a saying that I have in my cubicle which pretty much sums up the corporate world (and Adam Nordost): "Remember: The Better You Do, The More They Expect."

Third First Day of School

2007-02-06T20:23:00.000-08:00

Firstly, starting a blog was my New Years resolution and, well it's February 6th so not really a good start on a New Years resolution, but what the hell, better late than never.

This is my first blog you are reading. Ever. I thought I'd like to start a blog, not just to keep people in the loop of every intricately detailed inner workings of my psyche, but so I could hear myself talk--well not hear, but read; read myself talk. You know what I mean.

Okay, let's start things off right: I had a good day today; bad things happened, too, but it was a good day. Here's the good: Have you ever been thinking about someone and then they call? Have you ever had that happen 3 times in a day? Rachael Williams (from High School), Terri London (a client), and Jay White (a best friend). Crazy. Next a coworker gave me a coupon for a free sandwich--you may be thinking "who gives a shit" well, I do, thanks. I love sandwiches. I could most likely eat them every day for the rest of my life. I've dreamt of opening my own sandwich shop. Oohh... that's a good blog (later, Steven, later).

Let's get down to business with the bad--today was my third first day of school. (That's not the bad part just keep reading) It was my first day at San Diego City College, the third University system I'll be attending. I printed my schedule and showed up 5-minutes early and good for me and felt so prepared and then, all of a sudden, I couldn't find the classroom. So I'm running around and asking people left and right and finally I go to the Admissions office and ask them where my class is, "Oh, yeah, this is at ECC." "Okay, where's ECC?", "It's on Ocean View Boulevard." "Well, okay, where's that?" "Oh it's easy, just get on the 54, then the 805 then..." (Okay by this time I'm already thinking, "If someone says 'oh it's easy' and follows with a highway interchange, it ain't easy, bitch"). Needless to say I missed my class. I missed my third first day of class. So I feel like a booger for not like, finding out what campus the plugged this class into and--oh but let me just say this, I've heard from several sources that this place, this ECC, is like GHETTO, (for you Portlanders) it's like San Diego's Gresham. Nay, Washugal--except with more Mexicans and no Tanya Harting. Eww she's nasty.

And on that note... so that's my day people, I hope you enjoyed my blog about my third first day of school, you know I did. Anytime I can talk about myself endlessly and not feel guilty about it is a good thing for me. Until next time.