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Yes, I was in Palo Alto a few weeks ago for a job interview, and yes, I got the job.

Being in Palo Alto brought up a lot of old memories, and not just about dim sum.

It must have been around 1994. Whatever the year that the Stonewall anniversary celebrations happened in New York. That same year, I came out to California for the first time. I rode in the passenger seat of a very small car for a cross-country drive with someone whose name I've forgotten, although I remember many other things about her. I still have stories about that trip -- crossing Nevada during high noon, for example, or when the car dropped its muffler in the middle of the night in Iowa, and the state trooper who helped us out. There were a lot of firsts along the road, not just in California.

I haven't forgotten the name of the person we stayed with for a week, but I won't mention it here.

Both these folks were online acquaintances primarily. I'd met them before in Real Life, but I hadn't spent a lot of time with them until this trip.

The person I was staying with had mixed feelings about me. He was attracted to me, and intimidated by me. Does this sound familiar? Do you think that this situation may have left its mark on me? Just a little? Oh, he jerked me around but good that week. Not on purpose. But damn.

I made him cry at least twice. Once merely by bringing home a rose. Once while sitting out on the benches of California Avenue near the Caltrain station.

I have better memories of that week, too. It wasn't the first time I met [ profile] charleshaynes, but it was the first time I got to play with him. (I think I met [ profile] debbieann on my next trip, the next year, a much more pleasant time all around.) I met one of my roommates-to-be. I think that's when I met [ profile] slfisher, too, while I'm keeping score here. (She licked chicken off my fingers. There's a way to make an introduction.) And some other folks here and there, I'm sure.

I also made my acquaintance with California public transit that week. I remember a really long SAMTRANS ride from Daly City to Palo Alto, on a bus filled with, among other things, some folks recently released from the county jail.

And despite the interpersonal drama, which, honestly, I have barely touched on here -- how about the "let's warn Steven but not Lori about Charles' "reputation" incident? -- and some other shenanigans, I knew I would be coming back.

And I did.

But the memories are messing with my head right now. I'd buried some of this stuff but good, I'm telling you. And now it's all back, and I want to kick someone in the pants for some of it, yes I do. Even now.
pantryslut: (Default)
The previous linky and discussion reminded me of an old, old memory. An experience I shared with, of all people [ profile] maliceangst, at a Confusion in Detroit in 1990 or 1991.

We (and K., another geek of the female-bodied persuasion) had fallen asleep on one of the beds in the con suite (in the room off the main room). When we woke up, there was a row of three or four or five men, sitting in chairs along one side of the room, watching us. Staring at us.

Just sitting, and staring.

At us.

pantryslut: (Default)
Dreamgirls is quite an excellent movie. Lots of chewy stuff that I want to discuss with people. Plus really good performances all around. And sumptuously shot, too. If Chicago can win Best Picture then this should surely be at least nominated.

(It was also not the movie I should have seen at the time, but that's another story. Also, apologies to everyone I didn't see it with -- I went alone, somewhat on the spur of the moment, as it was showing only a few blocks downhill from my house.)

It's so good that it makes the thing I was watching it for research for more complicated. That's a good thing, I think. We'll see.

43 Plays About 43 Presidents was every bit as good as I anticipated, and if you have a chance to see it, you should.

Playoff football is so good this year that it almost guarantees a boring-ass Superbowl. That's OK. We'll have snacks and good company if you join us.

I bought maybe two dozen tiny purple eggplants at the Berkeley Bowl yesterday and now have to figure out what to do with them. They were so cute! I couldn't help it!

Also, since I am not doing this in chronological order, I was introduced to a new general interest independent bookstore in the Fruitvale/Laurel district on Friday night, owned by some very nice people, too. Then I heard lots of witty, smutty, moving, naughty writing from both old friends and new folks -- OK, a new folk. Jeff Mann was the new folk, and his "History of Barbed Wire" really impressed me.

Actually, to be honest, his drawl reminded me of Dave Smith, his subject matter reminded me of the very masculine poets of my apprenticeship -- and he's a gay bear, signifier of my adulthood. So it all felt very warm and familiar and at the same time, meaningful and new.

So there.


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