Gay Pride is sort of like Mardi Gras – you can run around half-naked or rock really obnoxious fashion and it’s somehow socially acceptable. My contribution to the hot messitude of Pride weekend is my douche bag haircut. Behold:
Gay Pride is sort of like Mardi Gras – you can run around half-naked or rock really obnoxious fashion and it’s somehow socially acceptable. My contribution to the hot messitude of Pride weekend is my douche bag haircut. Behold:
It is Minneapolis Gay Pride season again. We started the hilarity off yesterday at the Gay 90’s Miss City of the Lakes Pageant, which was bizarre combination of experienced performers and extremely green queens.
The regular girls are hard to top:
This week at the Pumps & Pearls Drag Revue (aka Classafrass) we saw some new outfits:
The temperature this summer is bizarre. It is either in the low 60’s or upper 90s, and Harley isn’t about the heat:
There is large dog in my neighborhood named Chester. Chester’s owners never have him on a leash. Ever.
I used to let my dogs out in the back of my building without a leash late at night. After a very bad incident I learned that a dog fight will start regardless of how nice your dogs are. If the leashed dog is vicious then your dog will respond. A leashed dog is also more likely to assume an unleashed dog is a threat and the ensuing drama is ALWAYS the fault of the owner of the unleashed dog.
I went to Luther Nissan Kia yesterday because my windshield wipers broke again. My 30 minute appointment slowly crept past the 3-hour mark before I left. At first I was okay with the lengthy car appointment because it would allow me a chance to blog, but my new HP Envy laptop lagged so badly that I could not even type in Microsoft word properly.
A few hours later I parked at the Mall of America and walked to the Microsoft Store with my laptop. I felt like a complete terrorist walking through the mall with the computer bag. I even got a few nasty glares.
“Toast” is my descriptor for the type guy who has the same bland conversation with me repeatedly because he is interested but too scared of rejection to actually ask me out on a date. He greets me, asks about my weekend, comments on the weather, and then disappears for a few days only to repeat the same exchange next week. (The full list of characters is here.)
This guy’s timidity precludes me from asking him out because I know that the guy is likely to be dull (like toast) or at least way too self-conscious to date. The problem is that toast is polite enough that I can’t justify blocking him, so I play along and feed into this viciously dull cycle.
Being my Facebook friend allows toast to passively keep up with my life without fear of rejection. The more aggressive toast (dark bread) looms for weeks or even months. It never rots, and just gets very, very stale…and sometimes moldy.
One problem I have with OkCupid is that it has several options for passive communication. You can favorite, rate and wink at people and the site lets them know. For every message I get there are five pieces of toast who opt for the more passive ways of flirting (which rarely provoke a response from me.)
I feel like I’m in the toast factory. Can I get some jam?
“A guy walked up to me last night randomly and said the following: “I don’t think I’d know what to do if I were a black guy in this city. I mean no one really wants to date you guys from what I’ve seen. I don’t even date black guys and I think of myself as a pretty liberal person. That’s gotta be tough cause you’re a pretty cute guy” *sigh. seriously? FML”
That is hilarious because it is true.
I will blame law school for my tendency to cram way too much into my day. I was up by 4 a.m. walking the dogs and getting ready for my 5 a.m. personal training session at LA Fitness.
The personal training sessions are strictly 30 minutes long so going that early is starting to feel like a terrible idea. The upshot is that by 7 a.m. I have my workout done, two dog walks behind me, and a fresh cup of Spyhouse coffee as I jet to the office.
I love summer in Uptown Minneapolis. This is the Uptown theater, where they played Labyrinth.
Last summer an acquaintance asked me whether I was happy with how life has treated me so far. I can’t remember the exact way that he phrased the question, but I remember being intensely bothered with the underlying implication that life is something that happens to us and that we have little control over our current situation.
It’s absolutely not true. “I’m not a dog,” I thought. “I am an active participant in my life.”
I didn’t plan this very well. I biked to work this morning but left work at almost 6 p.m.
This means that it was almost 7:30 when I arrived at home, and I somehow had to do the laundry, cook that “almost expired” chicken and walk the dogs before 8 p.m.
I obviously did not get to bed at 8, which means that I am not going to get 8 hours of sleep before my 5 a.m. personal training session at LA Fitness.
I decided that I am going to stay in my current apartment building until I buy a house. Ideally this house would have a balcony where I can hang a hammock.
So it is officially hotter in Minneapolis than it is in Miami. Summer is here, the neighborhood looks lush, and my freshness is compromised.
Kristin and I went to the Sequin Sundays drag show at the Townhouse for the first time and we were thoroughly entertained. The show had the most random mix of performances ever. There was lip syncing, live singing, comedy, tap, magic tricks, fire, broadway, gospel, and some serious fierceness.
More pictures after the jump.
I don’t know what my poor hairstylist was thinking when I came in with a picture of “The Situation” from Jersey Shore and said, “I WANT MY HAIR TO LOOK LIKE THAT!”
