A midsummer's night

It's not actually the middle of Summer.

Last night/tonight night has to be hands down one of the worst nights of my life. I sat there starinf into 'emptiness' for the longest time. I was there but I wasn't!

I spent most of it, either trying to get drunk; and please let me iterate how damn hard I was trying, or in the process of finding and redirecting people to others; not that it was appreciated by most or anything.

It was cold on the way home - it rained. Freezing and bone cutting winds.

The only remote good that came out of it was my cab driver.

Let's see 6'3" remote indian descent and someone in great shape. Not your typical driver. Questions were exchanged and Commercial Road became a focal point, as was relationships - his 'girlfriend'. Every question he had seemed to head towards a particular direction.

I didn't mind; it was nice to have things about me for once - or again. Plus a cab ride, oddly enoughly 30 bucks cheaper...

Not that anything happened, of course.

A str-ay

Magazine rack at Borders. As much cruising of 'talent' both on and off the page.
You sit and you read. The eye catches a passing figure. And in that brief moment you passively judge. It's second nature - instinctive.

Your eyes fall back onto the page.

-

Editorial for thought.

What If You Only Thought You Were Gay?
For some men, the trouble starts when they realize they're actually straight. - By Anna David, Deatils Magazine.

In the early nineties, Dan Rothenberg was having a gay old time—literally. A rising comedian in San Francisco, he spent his nights at clubs in the Castro, where he discovered, to his surprise, that he was "a bit of a boy magnet." Rothenberg, then in his early twenties, was for pretty much the first time in his life finding hooking up with people easy. A regular at the Stud's disco night, he was known for starting off his routine at local comedy clubs by saying "I like my women like I like my coffee . . . I don't like coffee." Fifteen years later, he sits outside a West Hollywood Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf reminiscing with a woman about his days as an out-and-proud gay man. The woman happens to be his wife.

Rothenberg and Colleen Crabtree, both 35, met seven years ago. Five or so years before that, Rothenberg was paralyzed by fear over the realization that he wasn't actually gay. Although it took about a year to admit to himself that his Castro days were over, one incident stands out. "I happened to see a female friend getting dressed," he says. "I remember watching her and thinking 'There's no way words can describe how much I want that."

Read more here