Confessions of a Moron

Personal Bits, Queer stuff

Attraction is such a bizzare thing, no? I met this guy back in the summer and while I was trying to be “good” and “save myself” for Mike’s return to Toronto (which now is as distant as a Mars lander to some hippie scientist bent over his keyboard hammering out instructions, trying to get his robot to work), I met this guy. Lets call him Sharkboy. Sharkboy is stunningly handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you realize there are more leagues higher than yours, that you are not a part of and probably never will be. Sharkboy is charming: replete with a Quebecois accent that adds character and colour to his speech. And Sharkboy showed me an ounce of interest. We originally met for sex over the internet…

Oh god will you please stop laughing at me?

…and the day he walked through my front door I thought “Holy crap, I am not his type!” Then I thought, “Holy crap! He has an amazing body!” True, because he keeps active unlike me who spends his free time sucking radioactivity as nourishment from a monitor. After we finished our internet date (this aint no porn site), I was actually kind of relieved he was leaving and that I would never have to see him again. I honestly thought I was a charity fuck for him. Turns out Sharkboy likes the hairy balding guys with a gut. How odd.

I dont remember when the repeat romp was. Sharkboy tried a couple times to get more but I blocked him off. I thought that if I repeated sex with someone I was officially cheating on Mike. Meanwhile, Mike and I were going nowhere. Neither one of us were making moves to relocate to either one’s home city. Or find a good job, for that matter, but the emotion was still there. Yet Sharkboy still swum around me like my ankle was bleeding. There were moments where I could actually feel my feelings transfer over from Mike to Sharkboy. Call it sublimation, call it troo luv, call it wrong (believe me I wrestled with guilt – Im Irish Italian Catholic) but it happened. On a cold November day, driving back from a parade I was helping Sharkboy perform in, he fell asleep on my arm. Bam. Hooked.

Mike. What to do. I still had feelings for him but they had definetly cooled since his departure. I hope I let him down easy. I still consider him part of my family and would walk through fire for him, but I couldnt wait for him any longer. I wish him to be happy. I want him to marry into my family. I still want him around. I know that he will make someone extremely happy as he did for me (still does! …um…but not that way, now, you know?).

So now Im swimming with Sharks. And lovin’ it. Bada bap bah bah.

January 20 2004

Celebs and Media

American Idol. Oh you pretty things. Its disturbing to see the amount of people who swallowed the Disney pap that “following your dream will make it happen” and choked, got angy and stormed off when told the truth. Oh sure there were the collection of screechy uber-divas and hissyfit gay men in gawdawful jeans, thats why you watch the first 3 or 4 episodes, right? But one of last nights contestants tried to do a jazzy scat number to Route 66 and was pretty much all over the map musically (I have to write that one down). What was more disturbing was the look on her face when the “reality checks” (as the presenters like to call their rating boosting insults) started to come in. I really beleive she thought she did her best and yet her best was like two cats in a sack. Her face is now in the dictionary right beside the word “crestfallen”. The exit interview was even more impressive. Instead of calling the judges bleepity bleep bleepers she held back the tears and thanked them and wished the show a good season. Okay she sucked and her dress was falling off but man o man she had one strong backbone. What worries me is that they said they had close to 30K more contestants this season than last. Are we all living in a dream?

I have a secret fantasy where I audition for The Lofters and bill myself as the fat, balding gay guy over 30yrs old amongst the 20somethings. Can you imagine the audition tape? Thankfully I can and keep it in the realm of fantasy and not bring it out into the harsh light of reality. I would embarass myself and would most likely get my face on TV as filler in the section of the show that is reserved for “goofball, wacky and crazy auditions”. Now. Why cant the “wacky, goofball and embarassing” American Idol people hear themselves? Do they not have friends who love them? Would you not tell your friend that they were about to screw up royally? “Gosh Missy your voice is like velvet! Dont worry, the cat always hides under the bed when you sing Celene Dione.”

After I chased that down with My Big Fat Annoying Fiance, a Joe Schmoe rip off that makes me think that the girl who is fooling her family into believing she’s marrying a slob is a gold digger and doesnt love her family much.

I am obsessing about TV too much.

This entry might offend some…

Toronto, Work

Im at the store (no, not another whiny retail complaint post) and a customer comes in and purchases something. The store has a vast database of repeat clients (Mac users, go figure) and I ask if we already have his information in our computer. He gives me his name (Id say it here but apparently we as a species are not allowed to repeat personal information ever again according to a new law that came into effect Jan 01) and I cant find it. So I ask if its under a business name and he says “Oh right. Try Spearchucker Music“.

Yeah you guessed it. He was Black. Or African Canadian, depending on your level of PCness.

And my face started to dance. Really. Eyebrows knitted and unknitted, corners of my mouth went up then down and up again, squinty eyes, no squinty eyes… Was I to acknowledge the name? Was I to comment? Was I just suppose to feel guilty for the years of oppression? Was I to laugh with him/at him/for him?

It makes me wonder about re-appropriating words, like when homosexuals demystified (or re-mystified) “queer” back during the early start of AIDS. I had a friend who tried to use the word “cunt” as much as possible because he thought “fuck” had become watery and we needed a new hard swear word. Personally I would like to reclaim “jigaboo”. Hate me for saying that but its really a funny word. Strip it of its racist meaning and it stands before you like a elf doing a dance. Like “hobgoblin” or “wumpus”. I dont mean to offend but sometimes words just make me laugh.

This Is Wonderland

Celebs and Media, Personal Bits, Queer stuff, Work

Okay heres my take on my brother’s show This Is Wonderland. If I could strain a muscle while wishing it didnt resemble Ally McBeal too much I would have, right up to the point where Alice has to get back into the security line at the court house door. What made me relax was her line “Bite me!” to someone in the line up. From there on I thought making comparisons wouldnt be necessary. It rambled along nicely and I got a good feeling about the show. Thankfully they didnt use an unsteady cam for the courtroom scenes, that would have been waaaay too ’90s cop show.

I got a call to be on the set of QaF again this week. What a surprise! I happened to miss the shuttle bus at 6am (went right back to sleep after shutting off the alarm) and got the second bus which got to set at 10, with 30 or so over-50 gentlemen. They were shooting a dream sequence where everyone in Babylon is old, shirtless and dancing. Because I was with these people when I got off the bus, I decided to stay with these guys for that part of the sequence. No AD came and corrected this mistake, even though clearly everyone was much older than I was. Heh. Subversive, me. So apparently a character dies this season. Wont spoil it right now.

I dont think I will be going back to QaF anymore as that the conditions for background holding are quite deplorable. If theyre going to keep 200+ extras waiting in holding for 5 or more hours they should provide better rooms/chairs for the duration. Im not being a prima donna here, folks. You try sitting on a plastic fold-up for more than an hour and come back to me singing the praises of chairdom. Oh my angry ‘roids. And some heat in the room, other than the hot air coming out of loud mouth schnook next to you blabbering on about how stupid his agent is, would be nice. I am well aware that being an extra means “Hurry up and wait” but was there any reason for us to have a 10am call time and then hit the set at 4pm for an hour, and that was a wrap? Could this not have been scheduled better?

When I got home after that, I found an email from my brother saying they might call me back to be his assistant Crown Attourney on TiW again. Yay TV! Now theres a set!

Is Wrestling Fake?

Personal Bits, Toronto

Today I was walking along the street just minding my own business (dont we all? I mean do we actually walk along and butt into other people’s business? Well other than crazy people… I digress), when a rather attractive woman stepped past me and …smiled.

I had absolutely no idea what to do.

She was past me before I could respond. Im not sure if she found me attractive or she was just being polite (I have a tendancy to wear a scowl when my face is “off”) or she was just all caught up in a personal moment and it didnt involve me at all…

I bought Diary by Chuck Palahniuk today only by opening the book and reading one line: “The weather today is an increasing trend toward denial” Im told this is his second best book. Im loving it so far.

Retail Salesperson

Personal Bits, Work

Apologies for the last entry’s gramatical and spelling errors. F- from the nuns in the peanut gallery.

I am officially a retail salesperson and I promise you that I wont bore the fuck out of you with dull evil events that happen across the counter at my shop, but would like to make an observation: retail sales people officially have a stigma of being second class citizens. When you come to them, you are wary they’re going to sell you stuff you dont need, or you have a complaint and youre buggered if some two bit store monkey is going to stop you from returning the stuff youve opened and put your chocolatey fingers all over. Admittedly the informed shoppers, the ones who really do enjoy spending time getting information about their purchases and the ones who are patient when you dont have the information that theyre looking for are out there, and to them I say dont bother reading on. You can go out for recess early with a cookie. Toodles. For those of you who storm beligerently into the store, make faces when you have to wait longer than 5 mins when you shop during lunch hour, roll your eyes at a small mistakes made by trainees, dont respond when the counter help say “Thank you”, or just basically treat shop people like dirt, you all need to put your heads down on your desks and take a time out. There is usually one per shift…the one that makes your whole day dive into a neurotic tailspin by a sneering look or off handed comment about your abilities. To these people I say, politely and slowly and with as wide a smile as possible: Ass! Try it…I learned it from a Mr Leatherman Toronto Contestant who said it every time his competitor was finished speaking. You can smile pretty wide and still deliver virtol.

My discovery of this retail class system stems from a mother who had an email print out from her son who handed it to me without explanation saying “I need this”. I retrive said product and she prceeds to drill me on why she needs to buy this for her son as I am asking her for warranty information. Every question (approx 15 from “name” to “How did you hear about the store?”) was an affront to her breathing because she kept on “huff!”-ing at each question. She finished the conversation by asking “Why do I have to buy this?”

The smart ass pop up window opens in my mind “Because its Christmas, you nasty cow.” was the nicest I could come up with but I said instead something about using Apple preripherals with Apple computers contributes to their resale as well as keeps the whole “appley look and feel” consistant. She looks at me like I just said “Because its Christmas you fucking dirty stupid awful cow,” and huffs off. I feel for the child of that mom.

Inversely there are people who love the whole sales process. I know if I had finally decided to shuck out $4000 for a low end G5 I would be all happy and stuff. And these people are the best to deal with.

Okay. I promise never ever to bitch about my retail job again. I might relate weird stories but I will make sure its in keeping with this site’s mission statement. Whatever that is.

Wile E Coyote

Celebs and Media, Hobbies, Work

Imagine you’re Wile E Coyote. Imagine youve released a boulder that you hope will destroy your arch enemy the Road Runner. Imagine it going all wrong and you are suddenly hunted by the same machinations you created. Why the fuck would you run away from it, following the same path as its course of destruction? I am not going to ramble on about cartoons here, but I do want to talk about a lost gem of a movie called The Car.

So this town is terrorized by a demon car that comes out of nowhere (great long shot at the beginning of The Car coming out of Monument Valley) that seems to kill indiscriminately and with virtol. But the silly villagers dont know enough to dodge to the left or right of the devil machine. Like Wile E. they run along the path of the oncoming juggernaut. I know Im suppose to suspend belief here (a demon CAR!!!!) but a car coming at me while Im on my bike has a good chance of missing me if I brake hard enough at the last moment. Enough about the movie’s bad suspension of disbelief, here’s the good stuff:

A young James Brolin. Like a poor man’s Burt Reynolds, but who has an ounce more ability to act. And oddly enough, slightly sexier. I guess James ego is as huge as Burts and thats attractive. That or he shouts a lot. Who can say. Attraction is a funny thing.

The Car itself. Great POV shots from iside the cab of the demon car. Nice use of red filters to give it a “Hey! Im driving remotely from Hell!” feel. I dont know what actual car The Car is modeled from but they did do a great job with the headlights. They’re like eyes! How creepy!

Best line: “Cat Poo!” Who knew you could twist your mouth that way?

The love intrest dies 2/3rds into the movie. This is rather unconventional for slasher flicks and is weirdly refreshing. However, our hero never really gets all THAT upset.

Its not your typical “Jaws-esque” kinda movie. I recommend for a night in if you’re in the mood for formage.

8pm Update: So I went to Knowcean today and met with Dita. Wiiiieeeerd. She seemed to me to be dressed like an event planner rather than a Software development Administrations type. She’s in a power suit/skirt thing with luxurious nails and smart hair…and she’s reading from a list of prepared interview questions wich made me think “Ok, we are just going through the motions here, shes got somebody else hired already.”

Then she looked through my portfolio to stop dead at the Illustration section. “Can I make a photocopy of these?” she asks. I remind her that they are property of myself and Rogers but, sure, what the hey. She’s eager to see more so I direct her to my website again. And that was it…it ended quite abruptly and she didnt ask if I had any questions. I did get to ask what the major money maker was for Knowcean and she stumbled over some explianation of a stylized Content Management system. Oh. Ok. Thanks! And I leave. As I go out, Carbon Computing called and offered me a job starting tomorrow. Arg! No days grace!? Im happy about it though. I get to keep up with technology and current software versions. Yay!

And just now someone private messaged me that his friend needs web/print work for his new bath house. Rains and pours and stuff. Wee! Free passes!

Important Meeting

Personal Bits, Work

Doncha just hate it when you spend 48hrs gearing up for an important meeting, you polish your portfolio case, relable all the stuff in your portfolio, shine your shoes and then have the whole thing fall apart? Dammit. I was suppose to go to Knowcean Software today for a possible freelance contract position, so I crossed my “i”s and dotted my “t”s and ransacked my hard drive for the latest stuff to put into my portfolio only to get to the office and discover… there’s nobody in the office! I asked on another floor if there was anyone in Knowcean, the office on the entire second floor, and they thought they had moved. Im sitting in the lobby all confused and stuff with Japanese school girls coming in and out of the building. My cell rings. “Ah ha!” I think and answer it with a smile, thinking the interviewer just gave me the wrong address. Nope. Its the retail job for the Mac re-seller calling me in for an interview later today. So not a total loss… As Im on the streetcar home, the VP of Knowcean Sales calls me and apologizes for missing me, they had to go “out of the office for an emergency” We rescheduled. What kind of emergencies are on a Friday afternoon around lunchtime, kids? Thats right! Martini emergencies! STAT!

I’ll post more after my Carbon Computing meeting…see ya!

5:30PM Dammit…In the interview, they asked me what the difference is between notebook RAM and desktop RAM as well as the difference between Rasterized and PostScript printing. I was wrong on both. Dammit! If they hire me I will be suprised. Okay thats harsh but I was not very tech-y for a computer store. I nailed the customer service end though. Im sure of that. The General Manager liked me, I think. Time will tell. Wish me luck.

Panther. Right. Cat thing…

Personal Bits, Work

Why are the holidays so wrought with anxiety when we’re suppose to be relaxing and enjoying our lives? I personaly could not care if suddenly Nazis from Dimension X suddenly pop into exsistance from a tear in our reality and jackboot themselves into power and decree that Christmas was banned. I hate Christmas. Do a search on “I hate christmas” and “blog” for me will you? You’ll see how original Im being right now but I just got to get this out right now so we can enjoy our time together. To quote Ron Schrab, “Halloween kicks Christmas’ ASS!” Call me a grinch, a humbug, whatever, I just think we apply too much emotional filters to Xmas. The wrong kind of emotions, like anxieties about money, food, activities, etc.

Three interesting leads yesterday: One was walking into Carbon Computing (on a lark) and asking if they had any seasonal work and talking to the manager. We chatted a bit and he asked if I knew OS X, to which I replied “Jaguar? Sure!”

“Panther,” he said not lifting his eys from my CV.

“Pan…oh yeah, Panther. Right. Cat thing…” I trailed off mumbling.

“Don’t worry. We do the same thing all the time around here,” he said and promised to call me later.

The second thing was I came home to a message for a job interview on Friday for a part time, contract position with someone I dont remember applying to. Ive applied to so many in the last two weeks that I only remember the ones I wildly lied to, to get an interview with. So I have to think fast when I go in. Wish me luck.

The last was the bar. I talked to the GM and we both had the exact same idea for what my role would be for the bar which was cool. Im writing up a proposal as I type this. Yup. I am.

Got it, Jack

Celebs and Media, Queer stuff, Toronto, Work

Im sitting in the diner on QaF and Im in a two-seater booth across from a guy who has mentioned his girlfriend a few times (got it, Jack) and how nice the waitress’ ass is (“Nice pants,” I reply) and all during the scene Im mouthing the words “fisting at the Don Jail”. Suprisingly he picks up “fisting” and “jail” and laughs and holds up his meaty hairy forearm. At the cut I tell him of a guy I knew who had numerical increments tattooed up his arm past his elbow. He goes white. Take that back to your girlfriend, Jack.

Im in a bit of a tizz…I am forced to going back to the bar for pick up shifts and the odd promotional night as that there are very little jobs out there right now. As I write this I am moments away from a meeting with the GM to negotiate getting “half” my job back, which would allow me time to do freelance stuff but yet pull a decent paycheque (which is better than no paycheque) from the bar. I feel dirty and gross but its better than working at a bath house or scrubbing pots. I know a few guys who are in the same predicament, taking jobs for the sake of jobs right now (except for one Panda in the states who has landed a dream job koffkofffuckoffkoff). I call it the NMD or New Millenium Depression, because Im depressed about having to do this crappy work to get by (note: that was a joke, no emails please!)

It seems to be a trend for the post-Internet implosion people, to take on a couple jobs while still holding onto some shred of internet work. Ive reworked my portfolio site to align it with web trends (ie: got rid of the Flash navigation) and added new thingys to it. Its only been two days. Where the hell are the phone calls? I know…I know…hit the streets, send out emails and open my yap at every given opportunity.

Last night, at 2am, I applied to WestJet as a Customer Service Rep!