Well How Did That Happen?

It’s Friday. Huh? Where did Tuesday through Thursday go? This definitely felt like a short work week. I’ve actually got nothing planned tonight since the weekend always seemed so far away. Still, I’m rather happy about that. The past few weekends (months?) have been chock full of travel (Europe, parents, Ptown, Hartford) or drama (break ups, hospital visitations). This weekend should be fairly tame and restful by comparison.

I only have two social things planned (and both are still at the tentative stage).

OH, and I’m a little saddened to realize that my beloved Big Brother: Season 7 is going to air it’s final episode on Tuesday. I go through this mourning period every year. Sigh. I’ll just need to focus my attention elsewhere.

And speaking of redirected attention, I did sign up for a class at Harvard, though. Starting the 18th I’ll be studying “Religion, Liberalism & Democracy.” Should be interesting for debate. I had three choices: audit the course, take it for undergraduate credit or take it for graduate credit. Stupidly, I decided to take it for graduate credit…which means more writing is expected of me. What was I thinking?

I’m so Animated

Thanks to “Dave in Chicago” (who I’ll hopefully be hanging out with again when he becomes Dave in Boston for a few days in November) sent me the link to a site that allows you to make a South Park character based on your own features. Unfortunately, this is what the program came up with:

 SP Karl usable.JPG

 Please tell me there is no resemblance. And, if you do see a resemblence, no matter what you do, do NOT say it’s because of the gap in his teeth.

 

My Extensive Subterranean Travels

Thanks to Thom, at Thoughts Made Bald, here’s list of subways/public transit systems I’ve used in my life. In order, they include:

Amsterdam, NYC (Path), Montreal, NYC (subway), Paris (commuter rail), Chicago, Washington DC, Toronto, San Francisco (subway), San Francisco (commuter rail), Philadelphia, Paris (subway), Boston. I keep thinking I’m missing a few. But maybe not. While in London, we never used public transit so I couldn’t include the Underground.

I ordered some CD’s from Amazon last week and they arrived yesterday. The first one was Goldfrapp’s original CD which I had previously…sort of. It was actually Matt’s and he took it with him in the break up. I’d been craving Lovely Head lately so I bought it.

The other CD I bought was the Monkee’s Greatest Hits. Don’t laugh! Stop it – I said don’t laugh!

I like music that brings me back to a place in time…and their songs make me think of childhood summers when the show would appear in re-runs. Besides, Valleri and She are a kick-ass songs.

I said stop laughing!

New England’s Rising Star

That’s what Hartford calls itself. Although I had a great trip (despite the weather), I think the city’s logo is misleading. Then again my first impressions were soured by my travel companion. I boarded Amtrak at South Station and was impressed at the leg-room (seeing as this train goes to Chicago, I guess the leg-room is needed for the nearly 24-hour ride – fortunately, I was just going to Sprinfield, MA). The train was nearly empty yet when the train stopped at Back Bay Station 5 minutes later, I was tapped on the shoulder by some hippy-chick with MAJOR body odor asking if she could sit next to me.

I straightened up enough to look around me…hinting to her that there were dozens of empty seats – even rows – available. She didn’t take the hint so I acted all gay and pissy and shuffled a bit to make room for her. She had tons of luggage (including two guitars). After a few minutes she finally settled in…the body odor smell wasn’t “as” bad once she finally stopped lifting her arms to put the luggage in the overhead bins.

And if I kept my face toward the window and breathed through my mouth, it wasn’t so bad.

About an hour into the two-hour ride she decided it was time for lunch. Doesn’t it figure that the smelliest woman on the east coast would decide to have hard-boiled eggs…on a confined train!? COME ONE! Who is that disrespectful?!?!?!

Anyway, I couldn’t arrive in Springfield soon enough. When I got there, Adam picked me up and we drove back to West Hartford (where he lives). He showed me West Hartford Center which was the quintessential small New England downtown. We then went to his house (a charming Cape*) and had a great dinner on his gas grill.

We were rather lazy and ended up just talking, eating (home-made brownies!!), and watching DVD’s all night.

Saturday was supposed to be rainy and miserable (thanks to Tropical Storm Ernesto) and the radar maps on the news showed huge bands of rain heading toward Hartford. Somehow, though, they all seemed to dissipate before hitting Hartford. We were able to venture out the entire day without even a shower.

We went downtown and toured the Old State House (built in 1797 and designed by Charles Bulfinch….designer of Boston’s “new” state house of the same time).

We then had lunch at the Wadsworth Athenaeum and explored the art exhibits there. We then went to Real Art Ways where there were a few exhibits going on. One was a series of photographs of bears. No, not the woodsy critters, but the gay subculture of bears.

Now, I tend to prefer stocky/husky/chunky/beefy fellows. And I tend to prefer them with body hair. But the men in this exhibit were morbidly obese. They had stretch marks and one even had a rash under his Dolly Parton sized breasts that dangled heavily over his belly. Erotic this was not.

There was another exhibit with these interactive robots with TV screen faces. Odd, but fun.

Later that evening we had dinner at, and hung out at, this bar/lounge. I forget the name (Tanise?). Adam was drinking a Chai Mar-tea-ni that was deceptively good. I kept it simple with San Pellegrino.

On Sunday we explored Elizabeth Park before he dropped me off at the Amtrak station for my ride home. After he drove away, the clerk at the station notified me that the train was going to be 5 hours late.

FIVE HOURS!

Now, Springifled is an unplesasant city. And the Amtrak station in Sprinfield is even worse. The clerk suggested I walk down the street to the Peter Pan bus station. I did…and managed to get on the 4:15PM bus (that didn’t actually leave until 4:45PM).

Later that night – back in Boston – I got together with Mike and his new beau in the North End. Around 11PM they went to Paradise (a bar, not a state of mind) and I went home.

On Monday (yay holiday weekends) I rested and then got together with Marin and Roger to see “Another Gay Movie”. This movie spoofs all of those straight teen sex romps like American Pie and Porkies. It was hilarious and completely offensive. They managed to get cameos from a veritable who’s who of gay culture….Richard Hatch (first Survivor winner) was nude for all of his scenes…even full frontal. Graham Norton also went nearly nude in a jock strap with strap-on attachment in front. James Something-or-Other (from the reality show, Boy Meets Boy) went nude, too.

We then went out for ice cream…where the sales clerk commented to me that my ice cream selection was very popular among children. Gee, thanks. I prefer my dessert without commentary, thank you very much.

Now it’s Monday, I’m back at work…and I’ve posted some photos for your boredom…er…enjoyment.

The first series is the interior of the Old State House in Connecticut.

State House 01.jpg

State House 03.jpg

State House 02.jpg

The next two are of some items in the museum of curiosities that occupies a 2nd floor room of the Old State House. The first is a double headed calf. The second is a double-headed pig. Pretty.

State House 05.jpg

State house 04.jpg

Finally, we go back to beauty again, with photos of Elizabeth Park.

Elizabeth Park 01.jpg

Elizabeth Park 02.jpg

 

*What is it with houses in this part of Connecticut? The houses were mostly built in the 1940’s and all have these attached garages. But the garages are too small for cars. I mean, there are people with Honda Civic’s and VW Bugs who have to park their cars in the driveway since they don’t fit. And considering how big cars were in the 1940’s, neither Adam nor I could figure out what the purpose was of these garages. They must have been used as sheds only…but why didn’t they just make the garages 2 feet (or more) wider to accommodate actual cars?

What Would You Do With $10,000?

The CBS Morning News this morning interviewed a waitress who received a $10,000 tip at the Applebee’s she works at in Kansas. When asked what she would do with the money, she said that she wants to help her father with some expenses associated with knee surgery he’s having in October. She also plans to coordinate a bachelorette party for a friend in Las Vegas. Finally, she wants to get a Jeep she’s had her eye on.

WOW. $10,000 apparently goes a long way in Kansas.

Speaking of long ways (keep your minds out of your gutter*), I’m heading a short distance away for the holiday weekend: Connecticut! I’ll be taking Amtrak to Springfield, MA where he’ll pick me up and show me the sights of Hartford. Aside from the Mark Twain house, we’re both at a loss at what to explore. Plus, with Ernesto’s rainy residue expected on Saturday afternoon and Sunday, I suspect we’ll spend a lot of time indoors watching DVD’s. And that’s fine with me. I’m really looking forward to a low-key, lazy weekend to cap off my low-key, lazy summer.

 

*Though, now that my mind is in the gutter, here’s a little story for you. When I was living at Longfellow Place back in the 90’s, I was ordering theatre tickets to a show in Greenwich Village. The ticket agent (a flaming homosexual if I ever heard one) asked for my address. I said “One Longfellow Place” and he cut me off and asked “Are you?” Confused, I asked, “Am I what?”. He replied “Are you a long fellow?”. Shocking! My virgin ears.

 

They’re Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee’re!

It started gradually with a few strange faces in the cafeteria earlier this week. Then the wait for an elevator grew slightly. Now it’s official: the school year is about to begin.

The campus is swarming with students. Bathrooms are less peaceful, flyers are appearing on bulletin boards and, by yesterday there were long lines in the cafeteria.

This time of year always comes with mixed emotions for me. I know the whole point of a univeristy is supposed* to be education…which means students. And I do enjoy the energy the students bring. I really do! But their return also means the end of those lazy days of summer where there are always seats in the cafeteria or outside around campus, where you don’t need to wait in line for food, and where you can walk through the halls on campus and not see another person.

But it’s all good. After a week or two, I actually enjoy the presence of students. I’ve just never been good at dealing with change – and jumping from deserted campus to an active academic scene within 4 days just takes some adjusting.

Labor Day weekend couldn’t come at a better time, then! If all goes as planned, I’ll be going to Connecticut to visit with Adam (the one I went to Ptown wtih a few weeks ago). Hopefully, Hurricane/Tropical Storm Ernesto will continue his westward path and leave us with just some scattered showers in these parts.

Fingers crossed.

 

*I say education is “supposed to be” the whole point of a university, but it seems that Harvard is equally, if not more, focused on research.

You Know You’re An Adult When….

I just got off the phone with my financial planner and we’re in the process of rolling over my former employer’s 401(k) into an IRA and creating a separate Roth IRA that I will contribute to monthly. She’s also been reviewing my 403(b), which is the retirement plan in academia…it works just like the 401(k).

I have to admit that it freaks me out to put my money in somebody else’s control. I was raised lower-middle class. My parents would charge Christmas gifts and pay for them over the following 12 months. We’d go on yearly vacations, but tended to go to places where we had relatives and friends we could stay with for free (a skill I’ve continued to this day). No food was ever allowed to go to waste, thermostats were kept low in the winter, lights were switched off when leaving the room.

Consequently, for the past decade or so of putting money into retirement, i’ve been investing rather conservatively…despite this being the age range when I should be taking greater risks. But now I’ve got a person I’ve paid to lead me in the right direction and she’s (wisely) encouraging me to take more chances.

I’m still too chicken to allow her access to the funds themselves (to move them around). But I use her to guide me and I do the actual funds-transferring myself. And my retirement savings haven’t exactly been growing at an exponential pace because everything has been invested so safely.

Now, in addition to what I have been contributing to my 403(b) and into my savings account each month, she’s encouraging me to contribute even more into the Roth IRA. I know that’s the smart thing to do….

…I just don’t like this “being an adult” stuff.
 

 

 

No Wonder Italians are Known for Yelling

I got together with an old high school friend last night for dinner. Actually, she and I had even dated back when we were 18 years old. Anyway, after months of scheduling issues we finally were able to meet. We agreed that Park Street station was a good central location. I saw her coming around the fountain and she looked identical to her teenage self. Well, her hair was longer, but nothing else had changed. It was refreshing to see!

We walked to the North End and stopped off at my place to chat before heading out for dinner. She wanted to look at photo albums so I pulled out this little box of photos in my living room and we went through it. One of the last photos we pulled out was one of me and her preparing to go to Manray back in 1996. In it, we were both dressed in black, hugging…and I was grabbing her boob*. Then it dawned on me that this photo was taken just hours before she met her husband.

Because after this photo was taken, we went to Manray and she started dancing with this fellow all night long and he ultimately became her husband (married 9 years and counting). We pulled the photo out of my little album box and brought it to CVS so she could have a copy. I’m not so sure he’ll be too keen on my presence in the photo molesting her breast, but he might like to have a photo of his future bride on the day they met.

We then decided to eat on Hanover Street. We had a seat by the window and one of the bands parading through the neighborhood for the Feast stopped right outside and performed the entire time we sat there. We could barely hear each other over the music. When we were done, we walked around the neighborhood and it seems the bands were performing at every corner we took. They were inescapable – making conversation quite difficult and making us yell our sentences to each other.

When all was said and done, I walked her to Haymarket subway station and came home…where I was able to listen to baby-boomers crooning “Unchained Melody” and other oldies on the stage set up around the corner from my home. This went on until about 11PM…and was also punctuated in the middle by a fireworks display that caused my apartment to wreak of gun powder for hours.

Still, I love the feasts. I don’t understand them (statues with dollar bills, marching bands coming down my dead-end “court” to perform for the residents) but I still enjoy them.

 

*We also discovered two other photos where I was grabbing my friend’s boobs. I’m not sure what’s up with that – being gay and all.

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

Everything started off nice enough this weekend. The Gay Boston Bloggers got together on Friday night for their (ir)Regularly scheduled gathering. This time, we took advantage of Restaurant Week in Boston and ate at the Parker House (located in the “oldest continually operated hotel in the United States”, as they claim). It’s also the birthplace of Parker House rolls, backed schrod, and Boston Creme Pie (I believe that’s how they spell cream).

Anyway, I had Nantucket scallops and the most delicious spinach salad with apples and feta, in addition to the usual great conversation from the gang. And it was so great to finally meet Fritz (Will’s husband) after over two years of knowing Will.

On Saturday, I headed to the Cape for some family bonding. We went furniture and area rug shopping since the hardwood floors are going in next month and that project seems to be motivating them to do even more to beautify their place. That night my friend, Jen, came over (her folks have a summer place in Falmouth) and we all played Rummy. Mom kicked ass and dad lost, despite cheating. It’s true! We caught him lying about the points he had in his hand. That’s karma, baby. And it’s a bitch.

On Sunday, Jen offered to drive me back to Boston in the early afternoon. Mike and I had planned on seeing “Little Miss Sunshine” but weren’t sure when. But then my friends Roger and Marin contacted me and we decided to all go to the 5PM screening at the Kendall as a group. I grabbed my umbrella, iPod and cell phone and closed the apartment door to head to the subway.

Then it struck me as the door latch locked behind me that I had let my keys just inside the door. DAMN! This is SO not like me. But since my hands were already full with other things, I never noticed that one of those items wasn’t my key ring.

I went across the street (propping the door open behind me) and knocked on my landlord’s door…but he wasn’t home. I then walked to the end of the street (and into the big feast that was taking place this weekend) to the senior citizen housing complex where my landlord’s handyman lives. His name is Charlie Brown (seriously) and is the sweetest little man. Anyway, I looked at the building directory but couldn’t find his name. Finally, a little old lady walked out and asked who I was looking for. I said Charlie Brown and she snapped back that she didn’t know him. She asked what he looked like and I said “He’s a short little African-American man…always smiling, very friendly.”

Then she said “Oh wait”. She turned to a small group of wheelchair bound elderly ladies sitting 10 feet away and yelled at the top of her lungs “Do you know what apartment that colored guy lives in?”

Of course, the ladies couldn’t hear her so she yelled even louder “Do you know where that colored man lives?” Ugh. Poor Charlie must be the only man of color in the neighborhood.

And poor me since it was soon discovered that he was on vacation in California.

I then walked back home, deflated, and tried knocking on my downstairs neighbor’s door to see if I could climb the fire escape and enter through an open window to my kitchen. She wasn’t home. Then I tried my neighbor upstairs. She let me in and we looked at her windows, but her fire escape only went up to the neighbor above her. There was no connection to my unit (which was below).

Hopeless, I went to the movies anyway (I even had to pay to access the subway for the first time in a decade). Fortunately, the movie was hilarious and a good time was had by all.

After the movie, Mike went home to do some work and Roger and Marin and I decided to explore the feast in my neighborhood. When we got back to the North End, I discovered my landlord was home (otherwise, Roger and Marin had offered to let me crash at their place…thanks guys!) I was able to gain access to my apartment and then we walked around the feast in the pouring rain. Most vendors had left so it was rather sad. I’m hoping there’s more going on tonight – the last night of the feasts.

And that was my weekend. Oh, except on my way to work this morning this couple in an SUV asked me for directions as I walked along Mass Ave. I gave it to them and walked away feeling good about myself. I wonder why I get such a good feeling inside for doing a good deed? I wish I’d have known this as a teen on Cape Cod when I would give tourists completely fake directions. Though, looking back, I got great satisfaction in getting tourists more lost. Now I get satisfaction in giving them the truth. That’s growth! That’s maturity! That’s me!

I’m Panting Again

For the first time since early June*, I’m wearing pants today. Now it feels strange to have fabric against my legs again. This happens to me every year but I’m not complaining. I love autumn and the cooler temperatures. I just wish it wasn’t going back up to the 80’s again by Monday.

This evening is the latest Gay Boston Bloggers dinner (or is it technically Queer Boston Bloggers)? I don’t know – all of these damn politically correct names and acronyms (GLBTQ) just make me feel old. And while we’re on the subject, what’s up with all of these younger whipper-snappers wearing ridiculously over-sized t-shirts lately? I mean, for the past decade I’ve seen over-sized jeans and t-shirts on teens – part of the whole hip-hop culture, I’d guess. That I could handle.

But in the past two weeks I’ve seen boys/teens wearing these t-shirts that are just long. I mean, they’re definitely over-sized, but they’ve also got this silly length to them that brings them down past their knees. They MUST be specifically designed to be long because I can’t imagine finding such an item even in a “big and tall” shop. They remind me of what those Valley Girl dresses from 1982 must have looked just before they were cinched around the waist by a big belt. Remember that look?

Oh, and my (formerly) good friend, Dave (in Chicago) informed me yesterday that “Hot Karl” is a rather nasty sexual term. I’d never heard of it before so he had me look it up at www.urbandictionary.com. It’s so shocking I can’t even repeat what this sexual act entails – but I’m rather disgusted that it’s associated with my name. For the record, let me just say that I am not the inspiration for this activity. Or, if I was, at least I wasn’t involved.
 

*I did wear pants in Europe a few times in June…but haven’t worn any in Boston this summer.