Two Burglar Short Stories by Lawrence Block

I've been a huge fan of Lawrence Block for many years (even more so once I moved to New York).  In particular, I've really enjoyed his Matthew Scudder series (hardboiled mysteries), his Bernie Rhodenbarr "Burglar" series (more comic mysteries), and his Tanner series (about a spy who can't sleep due to a brain injury).

I was happy to see that some of his short stories featuring these characters are now available for Kindle, in addition to the novels.

I read two today, The Burglar Who Dropped in on Elvis (Bernie is hired by an unscrupulous tabloid editor--the kind of tabloid that makes the National Enquirer look like the New York Times--to break into Graceland and get picture of the rarely seen second floor and Elvis's bedroom) and The Burglar Who Smelled Smoke (a terrific locked-room murder mystery about the death of a wealthy book collector).

Both were fantastic, and at $.99, quite a bargain.

I'll continue to read most anything I can get by hands on by Block (with the exception of his Hit Man series, which I just couldn't get into), and I have a bunch of his reissued early work on my Kindle, so I'll be covering that at some point.

Next up is Homer & Langley: A Novel by E.L. Doctorow about the Collyer brothers.  This is my second Doctorow book, and I'm enjoying it just as much as I did Ragtime.  Fantastic storyteller and historian.

After the Apocalypse by Maureen F. McHugh

So after reading the recommendation of this book in Fantasy & Science Fiction magazine, I decided to give After the Apocalypse a try.  It was well worth it.

This series of short stories all feature an apocalypse theme.  My two favorites were "The Naturalist" in which prisoners are released into a zombie-infested wasteland, or more correctly speaking a zombie nature refuge, and one of the prisoners sets out to learn as much as he can about these creatures, and "After the Apocalpyse," a tale in which America has been crushed by economic collapse, a massive crime wave, and the complete destruction of its basic infrastructure, and refugees flee the cities and head to Canada, and they hope, a return to the life they used to know.

Not all of the stories deal with apocalypse on this scale.  Some deal with a more personal apocalypse, the end of one way of life and the beginning of something new and unknown.

McHugh is a really strong writer, and she does a marvelous job creating characters that are interesting (even the cold blooded killers are fascinating), and stories that are enjoyable to read.  I definitely want to check out more of her work.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum

How is it possible that I have never read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz?  Absolutely delightful.  It's especially interesting coming at the book having only seen the movie (and, I suppose, seen Wicked and read Gregory Maguire's books), to see how the writers of The Wizard of Oz screenplay manipulated the book to make it fit the film format.  They did an amazingly good job of it.

Going to have to read all these books now (and they're all free on Amazon).

The Story of Doctor Dolittle by Hugh Lofting

My only experience with Doctor Dolittle is bits and pieces of the Rex Harrison movie.  Talk to the Animals and all that.

Since the book was free (thanks Amazon) and it's a short one, I decided to read it.  A 30 min workout and two subway rides was all it took.  A children's book, clearly, but still a fun one to read (albeit one with a very 1920's view on black people... it wasn't Song of the South, but wow, it certainly isn't politically correct).

I also had no idea there were 9 Doctor Dolittle books (and a few more that were published posthumously).

I'll probably check them out at some point, but I think I want to see what Oz holds next.

Fantasy & Science Fiction - March/April 2012

One of the best things about my Kindle is that I can once again subscribe to some of my favorite magazines without making my apartment any more cluttered than it is.  So far I've subscribed to Ellery Queen Mystery, Asimov's Science Fiction, and Fantasy & Science Fiction.

This month's F&SF features a number of good stories.  Among the highlights - Electrica by Sean McMullen (about a creature from prehistory whose consciousness is trapped in amber), Twenty-Two and You by Michael Blumlein (showing the unexpected consequences of messing with your genes), Gnarly Times at Nana'ite Beach by KJ Kabza (not cyberpunk, not steampunk, but beachpunk), One Year of Fame by Robert Reed (an author briefly becomes the most famous person on Earth), The Queen and the Cambion by Richard Bowes (Queen Victoria discovers a way to summon Merlin), Perfect Day by C.S. Friedman (a glimpse of the future online, plugged in, popup world that we're creating for ourselves).

In the book review section was a description of a short story collection by Maureen F. McHugh called After the Apocalypse.  Sounded good, so I bought it.

There was a great short story, Pimp My Read by Paul Di Filippo, about the increasingly absurd lengths authors must go to in order to get their books read.

And just a note to myself - find a copy of Anthony Trollope's The Fixed Period.  A little bit of Logan's Run, a bit of the ST:TNG episode Half a Life, but written in 1882.  (Turns out Amazon has it, and it's free)

Murder in the Irish Channel by Greg Herren

Today I finished Greg Herren's latest Chanse MacLeod mystery, "Murder in the Irish Channel," and it's a really good read.  It features a missing mother and a whole host of people who have a reason for wanting her dead.  Hired by her son, an MMA fighter, Chanse has to find out who would benefit most from her death or disappearance.  Lots of distractions and red herrings, leading to a satisfying (and fairly unexpected) ending.  I like those mysteries that surprise me, but where all the clues were laid out (no deus ex machina).

While the story was great, and lord knows Herren has a real talent for creating memorable characters, what most impresses me about his books is the way he brings New Orleans to life.  The city is just as important a character as Chanse or any of the others who feature in this series.

Every time I read one of his books, I just want to get on a plane and head down there.

Zombiality: A Queer Bent on Zombie Fiction

Yesterday I finished reading an anthology of short zombie stories featuring some LGBT aspect, "Zombiality: A Queer Bent of Zombie Fiction."  Overall it was okay, but frankly, a lot of the stories sounded like they came from a creative writing class.

That said, one of them was terrific - "Sweetness" by B.C. Edwards.  A great little story about a couple, one who has been infected with a virus that causes the person to become basically undead.  It starts with a sweetness in the back of the throat, that eventually sends the person into madness.  The story did a particularly good job about showing the difficulty of an infected person dealing with his fate, and the strain on his relationship (his boyfriend starts running with a group of zombie killers).

The best thing about this was its explanation of why zombies become flesh-eaters.  It was a nice twist, and really well done.  Worth checking out.

Take 2

Since I'm still hardly ever using this, I think I'm going to start using this as my reading list.  Maybe that will get me back into blogging.  Or not.  But at least I can keep track of the books I read.

So this weekend I read the latest Gale Carriger book, "Timeless," the fifth book in the Alexia Tarabotti/Parasol Protectorate series.  Yet another marvelous story about vampires, werewolves and other preternaturals in Victorian England.  Lots of steampunk influences and a wicked sense of humor abound.  And two of my favorite characters in the series finally hooked up.  A fun read.

Letting Go

I'm a pack rat.  I mean, I'm no Collyer brother, but well, let's just say I'm more like them than is probably healthy (I'm still way better off than anyone on those hoarder shows).

That said, I've been reading a ton of minimalist blogs recently and have started looking for ways to get my house in order, literally.  The hard part is that I have too many attachments to what I own.  First, there is the obvious sentimental attachment - "I can't throw that away, it was a gift from..." or "it reminds me of a time when..." (concert t-shirts, programs, my rugby kit, tons and tons of keepsakes, etc.)

The second is the attachment that says, "but I may need/want that in the future".  Clothes that no longer fit?  I'll get back into them someday.  Receipts, tax returns?  I may need them.  Old textbooks?  Well, you never know.

So I'm trying to get over that.  I have a deal with my coach that I will tackle this huge-ass pile of crap in front of my dresser in the weeks to come.  Looking at it, I have no idea where to the stuff is going to go, though I do know (hope) quite a bit of it can be tossed.

In an effort to make some room, I decided to start with something easy.  Porn.

I can't remember the last time I even looked at a porn tape.  Has to have been 5 or 6 years at least.  Probably longer than that.  And I have a rather prodigious collection.  So I started throwing it out.  Oddly, I had those first little feelings of worry (maybe I should sell this, maybe I should keep it...), but once I started bagging it up, worry gone.  I couldn't care less about it.

Now let's see if I can keep up that feeling when I start in on my wardrobe.  Or, God help me, my books.

Chalk one up for my moral compass

I have some marvelously embarassing photos of a famous playwright.  Rather than show them to everyone I know, I took the moral high road and deleted them.

Karma owes me a pony.

Damn you, Easy Listening Station

So I'm in my office and the radio is playing.  Harry Chapin's "Cat's in the Cradle" comes on, and 15 seconds into it, I'm crying.  I had to turn the bloody thing off.

FML.

I assume these little emotional ninja attacks go away at some point.  But that will suck in a completely different way.

Glee

So what does it say about me that the character I'm most attracted to on the show is the homophobic bully?

Totally fucked up.

Re: Lent

It isn't technically "watching TV" if I watch an episode of Better Off Ted on my computer.

No reviews at this time, it's late, but I read three books this weekend, Best Gay Erotica 2010, Best Gay Romance 2010, and Sense and Sensibitity.

"No pain no --" "STFU!"

After a bitch of a day at work, I had my second "new project" workout with my trainer.  My plan is this - no matter how bad it is, I won't bitch.  He tells me to do it, and I do.  If I can't do it, I take a rest and try again.

He seems to like this approach.

Everything aches right now, but that's just how it is.

Whatever.

At least I have a four day weekend coming up.  Which I have to spend working out, and writing, and surreptitiously taking care of work stuff so I don't come back to absolute chaos.

You know, when I gave up TV, I assumed that it would free up some time.  But I have had so much less free time than before.  How the hell is that even possible?

Mantra

I will be happy for my friends when good things happen to them.  I will be happy for my friends when good things happen to them.  I will be happy for my friends when good things happen to them.*













*Mostly

"I know. That's what makes me so nice."

My trainer told me today that I'm his new project.  He doesn't feel like we're making progress and has determined that we - meaning I - need to step it up a few notches.  Or as he so succinctly put it, "I'm going to kill you this month."

Well, if today was any indication, he may very well do just that.  The name of the game was interval training - work out for a set time, take a 30 second break, work out for another set amount of time, take a 30 second break, ad nauseam (literally).  We did this for 45 min. or so, then I got to stretch.

I'm exhausted.  Between work and the theatre blogs and everything else, I'm just so damn tired.

But whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger.  And if it does kill us, well, that's that.

Pissing into the wind

Every once in a while the self-doubt gets overwhelming, and it feels like everything I do is futile.  Why do I write, create, try?  It seems that I put things out there to a world that doesn't want them.

It's so easy not to.  To quote Wicked (sorry about that), "those who don't try never look foolish."  So why do I keep trying?

Anyway, today is a big old self-doubt day.  However, I'm going to "beast through it," as my trainer frequently exhorts me to do when we're working out.

Maybe no one gives a fuck about what I write.  Fine.  I'm still going to write it.  And while I feel like I'm not getting any validation right now, that's just my self-doubt talking.  When I'm in a better place, I won't feel this way.

One week

One week with no TV.  I've been writing a lot for my various blogs.  I've gotten stuff done around the house.  I've caught up with friends and family without surreptitiously trying to watch Family Guy while only half-listening to them.  I've read a couple of books.  I've downloaded music.  I've gone to the gym.  I've cooked.

All sorts of cool and exciting stuff.

That said, I'm so damn tired I could vomit.

Balance.  I've got to work on balance.

Well, that was grim

Just went through and updated my blogroll. Where the hell is everybody?

Broadway Backwards

A few comments about tonight's Broadway Backwards event to raise money for the LGBT Center and Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS:

1. I would gay-marry Len Cariou at the drop of a hat. Granted, he's a little outside my normal age range, but damn . . . that voice, that acting.

2. Hearing the LGBT Center Youth Chorus sing "Children Will Listen" was amazing.

3. Mario Cantone is fracking awesome.

4. There are some hot chorus boys in this town.

5. If someone had told me at 8 years old that one day I would attend an event where I would see Mrs. Brady and Mrs. Cunningham make out on stage, I wouldn't have believed them. And I probably would have been upset by having a grown up talk to me about girls kissing.

Mixed blessing

Called my stepmom today, and for the first time in six months got the answering machine. It was my dad's voice.

Once I was done crying, I realized it was really, really nice to hear it again.

Now I think I'm going to cry a little more.

Social

I've gotten into the habit over the past few weeks of meeting one of my Astoria friends for brunch on Sundays. We just go to a diner and catch up.

I've gotten out of the habit of this kind of socializing. Most of my friends are couples now, so they naturally want to spend time together. The others tend to live in (or want to meet in) Manhattan, which makes brunch kind of a schlep.

I like just being able to walk a couple of blocks to a neighborhood diner where I see the same people week after week. Kind of like a diner version of Cheers - everybody knows your name (but it being Astoria, the name is most likely Greek).

It's energizing being able to talk about the good things that are going on in my life (or the bad, depending on the week). We encourage each other in our lofty goals and our day-to-day struggles. It's nice.

Plus, I don't have to travel by subway to get there or back.

It's easy for me to forget to explore and enjoy my neighborhood. Hopefully, I'll start doing more of it.

What I've been up to

I've stopped watching TV for Lent. So far not so bad, but I'm only on my fifth day.

What I've discovered is that I watch way too much TV. I'm kind of amazed at how much time this has freed up. I'm doing a lot of writing and reading, which is pretty cool.

Along those lines, I've decided to make more of an effort to keep up with the blog.

Since I haven't been doing too much, I thought I'd focus on the books I've been reading. Last week it was Deja Dead by Kathy Reichs and A Lion Among Men by Gregory Maguire.

In both cases, I enjoyed aspects of the books, but neither were ones that I imagine I'll read again.

Deja Dead was Reichs debut novel. I've also read Deadly Decisions, Fatal Voyage and Grave Secrets. Not really going in order, but no big deal.

I keep thinking I should give these books a chance to grow on me, and I keep getting disappointed. Part of it is that I came to Reichs' books from watching "Bones" on TV. As a result, my image of Tempe Brennan is based on Emily Deschanel's portrayal, and on Hart Hanson's writing (although Reichs' has written for the series as well, I think Hanson's influence is stronger). The Tempe Brennan in Reichs' books is not much like the one on TV, and what it comes down to is I like TV's Tempe Brennan better.

The story is good: a series of murders in Montreal, a link that Brennan discovers, a search for the killer, Brennan fighting for her life and possibly that of her best friend and daughter. All good stuff. The problem is that Reichs' tends to get into the minutiae of forensic science, often bringing the story to a screeching halt while she describes the science behind the various tests. I don't really need to know how the tests work, just tell me the results. Not to say that it isn't interesting, I just want to keep going with the story.

A Lion Among Men is the third in Gregory Maguire's Oz series. I also read Wicked and Son of a Witch. I feel like I should like these books better than I do. I like the stories, the interesting and complex characters, and the sprawling, messy Oz that Maguire envisions. I just always feel vaguely dissatisfied by the books.

I do like Maguire's writing style, so I think I will try some of his other books and see what I think.

Anyway

So, I'm back. Kind of.

We'll see.

Say No to H8

I went to the protest at the Mormon temple tonight. Amazing turnout. CW 11 News was saying 5,000 protesters. Fox 5 said 1,000 (uh huh). CNN's Campbell Brown was saying there were hundreds, then went off on a tangent about us protesting Mormons and black churches. I think she may be retarded. Or, more likely, she's just the latest symptom of the infotainmentization (yes, I just made up a word. Sue me.) of CNN. It's gotten to the point that I can barely watch it.

Anyway, I started off the protest standing next to Whoopi Goldberg and Judy Gold. Very cool.

Eventually, the cops closed off Broadway and started shooing people away from the temple and sending us to Columbus Circle. As I headed toward the R to come home, I was passed by probably 30 NYPD squad cars, lights and sirens blasting, as they raced toward Columbus Circle. Clearly, they were caught a little off-guard by all the homos with signs. I'll give them this, they stayed polite, despite some inappropriate things said to them by some of the younger and . . . impulse-control challenged. Don't know what everyone else's experiences were, but I thought they did well.

I'm a little disappointed that the protest moved beyond the temple. Personally, I think that's where we should focus our efforts. Keep people outside it with signs and banners for a week or two.

I read an interesting press relese from one of the poobahs in the Mormon church, saying it was unfair that they were being singled out.

Tough.

At the direct request of their leaders, Mormons gave over $22,000,000 to pass Props. 8 and 102.

$22,000,000.

Now they feel picked on. Well, boo-fucking-hoo.

As Al Jolson said, you ain't seen nothing yet.

Right, Mr. Eckern?

Too much?

I can only really process things through the filter of musical theatre.

No On Prop 8

There is still time to help stop Prop 8 in California and ensure that same-sex marriages stay legal in that state.

I never give to political campaigns or things of this nature, but I did this time, because I think it's that important.

Click here to donate.

Oh, and by the way

My new thing for the next 30 days is to take my gym clothes to work with me and work out at lunchtime.

I've done it two days in a row and I feel great.

Well, except my knees. They feel crippled. But the sooner they give out completely, the sooner I can hire a hot Danish physical therapist.

Mmmm . . . hot danish.

Great. Now I'm hungry.

Preemptive Strike

Rather than writing the self-pitying, woe-is-me blog post that I feel like writing, then taking it down in a fit of remorse in the morning, I think I'll just post a picture of a dalek.

Day 22

Okay, vegetarianism is easy. I suppose if I really wanted to push myself, I'd try going vegan.

Truth be told, I tend to give up meat for Lent anyway, so this hasn't really been too difficult. There have been some times when I'd really like to eat a piece of bacon or just grab a burger, but not too many.

Now I have to decide what I'm going to do for the next month. I'm thinking of trying something really difficult like working out or writing every day. That would take some real effort and discipline. I'll think about it. Of course, I'm open to suggestions.

VP Debate

Best line of the evening:

John McCain has already tapped me.

- Sarah Palin

She may have said more after that, but I was too busy trying to rid my mind's eye of the image of McCain's saggy ass bouncing on Palin's perky . . . um . . . girl parts.

Day 1

I was reading one of those inspirational self-help websites recently where the guy suggested that people try to improve themselves in 30 day increments. Pick something and do it. He suggested trying a new diet or meditate or go to the gym, whatever.

Not long after that, a friend sent me an e-mail where a Facebook guy was asking people to be vegetarians for the month of October.

So I've decided to eat vegetarian this month.

Should be interesting.

Broadway Flea Market

Things I intended to buy at this year's Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS Broadway Flea Market:

A signed [title of show] playbill or poster

Things I actually bought:

Two pie dishes that were cast and crew gifts for the most recent incarnation of Sweeney Todd. They read "Courtesy of Mrs. Lovett's - Meat Pies Since 1846. Sweeney Todd Opening Night November 3rd, 2005"

The Broadway Bares Backstage Pass book featuring photos from the past few Broadway Bares.

Seascape by Edward Albee (signed by the playwright who was at the Dramatist Guild table)

Xanadu playbill signed by the cast

[title of show] playbill signed by the cast

Cast album of the latest South Pacific signed by the cast

9/11

Normally, I'd post something about 9/11 right now. Unfortunately, all I can do is think about the fact that a huge hurricane is bearing down on my folks.

I remember Hurricane Alicia; I was in high school when it hit. We had some flooding in my area, but most importantly, we lost power for over a week. Those of you who have ever experienced a Houston summer will know just how miserable life without air conditioning can be. Not to mention eating out of cans and cooking everything over sterno.

So I'm a little worried. My folks live in a different part of town than where I grew up. There probably won't be any flooding. But they have lots of huge trees and I'm worried about the wind. Plus, there are the tornados.

Add on to this the fact that I'm naturally a worrier, and it's a recipe for a very bad Friday and Saturday.

Anyway, I'll deal. But if you want to think some good thoughts for my folks, my friends, and the various bloggers down in Houston, it would be appreciated.

DragonCon bloggin' 2008

More at my Flickr site.

Worth 2000 Words

Even my dreams are odd

Last night I had a weird dream where I was dating Broadway star Norbert Leo Butz.

Um . . . okay.

I have no idea where that came from.

So anyway

I've got to get back in the habit of writing on this thing.

I've been seeing the trainer for a few weeks now. Totally kicking my ass, but I feel great.

Work has been hella busy (as the kids probably no longer say).

I've seen a ton of plays, including one today that was probably one of the worst pieces of theatre I have ever seen in my entire life. The script was a mess, the directing, practically nonexistant, and the acting . . . let's just say that these folks have a bright career in table waiting to look forward to (okay, that's a little unfair, most of the actors' problems can be blamed on the director). On the up side, I've also seen some really good plays, including a wonderful production of Vampire Lesbians of Sodom at a small theatre in Long Island City.

I've been to some good parties (going away for one friend, and a birthday for another). I went to brunch with Patrick, Jase, Brian and Charles, which was terrific.

I guess what it boils down to is that I have been living a fairly full life of late, and that has left me little time to write about it. So yea me, I guess.

Jesse Helms

Mother always said, only speak good of the dead.

Jesse Helms is dead.

Good.

The Donald at The Parade

Fun story.

I was working security at the Pride Parade today. I was stationed on the same street as Trump Tower. Basically, the street was closed so the parade participants who had cars could get lined up for their day-long trek down 5th Ave.

At one point one of the TT security personnel came over to the police officer and informed her that Mr. Trump was coming around the corner and needed access to his parking garage. Naturally, no one was allowed to get access to that street other than city workers (police, firemen, paramedics, etc.) and permit holders. Also naturally, such rules do not usually apply to the rich and/or famous (that is not meant to be a judgment against the people who let him in, just a statement of fact).

So Mr. Trump's limo was waved onto the street where it was forced to wait in the line of the floats and marchers until it could execute a rather intricate four or five-point turn into the building and safely ensconce The Donald away from the plebs.

Anyhoo, I present Mr. Trump's limo. For your reference he is lining up behind the Butch/Femme Society.

I'm Thor

So I started going to a personal trainer. Partially, because going to the Bingham Cup made me really, really miss playing rugby, and I'm bound and determined to play again. But mostly, I can't get over the thought that the only reason it didn't go very far with the last guy is that I'm the kind of guy who looks good when you're drunk, but that you regret when you're sober.

And yes, yes, I know that's a self-defeating attitude, low self-esteem, blah, blah, fucking blah. Whatever. That's how I think.

So anyway, I'm seeing a trainer now. He's in his (I'd guess) early 20s, and he's a) training to be a Navy SEAL, b) a mixed-martial artist, c) a wrestler, and d) participating in Octogon Ultimate Fighting competitions.

The dude is a maniac.

While I would no doubt argue the point while I'm actually working out with him, he is exactly what I need.

The workouts are heavy on interval cardio training, core strenghtening, and stretching. By the end of the workout, I'm so sweaty you could ring me out like the wash.

While I certainly anticipate the results, I'm a little sore right now. No, actually, I'm a lot sore right now. Like everything south of my sternum is sore. Well, most everything. You get the picture.

Point being, this is a good thing. I just have to keep saying that. This is a good thing.

Anyway, between this ridiculously intense working out and the diet I've put myself on (basically, in order to pay for my training sessions, I've started making all my meals. Saving tons of money and eating right for once), things are already feeling better.

We'll see how it goes.

Hopefully, I'll be at least moderately attractive to people by the time I hit P'town at the end of the summer.

By the way, the title of this post is the set up for the punchline of an old joke. If anyone can tell me the punchline, I'll buy you a drink the next time I see you.

Bingham Cup 2008

Well, it's over for another two years. Sydney won the Cup; a little disappointing.

Gotham A came in third. The B side didn't make it to the finals, but that's how it goes.

Anyway, only thing left is dinner, the party, waking up with a wicked hangover, checking out, and heading home.

The time really flew by.

My favorite things from this trip. Having a tour guide who said stadia, instead of stadiums. The campus is planted with tons of lavender; after every rain, it smells amazing. Getting a lot of good photos. Reconnecting with some of the guys I haven't seen in a while. Listening to lots of good music. Cider. Seeing some great rugby.

Things that weren't so great. The food (oh, dear God, the food). Feeling like I did in High School when I was ignored by the more popular guys on the team (Seriously, does this feeling ever go away? Why do I care if these guys like me or not, they're not part of my real life.). The weather (oh, dear God, the weather). Trying to go to bed when it's still light outside. My horrible, horrible mattress (Literally the worst mattress I've ever slept on).

Anyway, it was fun overall. That's the important part.

Captain's Log, Supplemental

Today was cold and rainy (and overcast, partly cloudy, and sunny . . . seriously the weather over here is freaky). After only a few games, I was pretty much rugbied out.

I came back to the dorm and worked on the articles I'm writing. Got three of them done. Luckily, those were the long ones, the rest should be faster.

Of course, tomorrow is the last day of the tournament, so it will be crazy. Lots of rugby, lots of partying, lots of everything. I can't wait.

Off to bed.

Bingham

Ever so quickly.

Dublin is great. There is cider in every bar and restaurant. I've been semi-drunk since I arrived.

The games are going well. Both sides have won and lost a match. More games today (in fact the next one starts in 10 min. so I'm going to be late).

I've taken a bunch of photos which I've put in Flickr. I'll post some later.

There are so many hot guys.

The sun doesn't fully set until well after 11:30 PM or so. Really messes with your sense of time.

I didn't put on sunscreen yesterday because it was overcast and from time to time rainy. Plus, who could get a sunburn in Ireland? Me, as it turns out. I'm not quite lobster red, but I've got what one of the secretaries at my company calls "an Irish tan."

Anyway, having a great time, though I'm tired as hell. It's sad when you kind of look forward to a vacation ending so you can get some sleep.

Woo! O'Hoo!

Tomorrow I leave for the Bingham Cup. Not freaking out about the flight yet, but soon, my pretties, soon.

Anyway, plan to see some theatre while I'm there and generally be a tourist.

Taking my camera, so hopefully I'll get some good shots of rugger with thighs like tree trunks.

Funny story

Coming in to work today, I overheard three security guards talking.

One of them said to the other two, "You know how you have the same first name? And the same last initial? Well, I was thinking."

One of the others, a hot Italian-looking guy said, "Yeah?"

The first guy said, "You should have sex."

They all started laughing, as did one of the building maintenance guys who was walking by. He turned back to them and said, "Yeah, but who would be the pitcher and who would be the catcher?"

The cute guy just laughed and said, "I guess we'll just take turns."

Fun way to start the day.

Best. Thing. Ever.

Grr . . . arrgh!

Crappy mood. But I'm off to see the True Colors Tour tonight, so yipee! Cyndi Lauper, B-52s, Joan Jett, Indigo Girls, Wanda Sykes, Kate Clinton, just to name a few.

Can't wait!

Probably still be in a crappy mood tomorrow, but at least tonight will be nice.

Just keeps getting better

So it turns out the shoe did not, in fact, drop as my last post indicated. I was simply being paranoid that the guy hadn't called me. But call me he did and off I went to Brooklyn to attend a party for him.

At the end of the party, about 2 hours ago, I think I was given a rather ambiguous variation of the "let's be friends" speech.

One dropped shoe, two hours, and three trains later, I'm home.

I'm going the fuck to bed.

Alone again (Naturally).

And for once, that suits me just fine.

Well that didn't take long

Shoe has dropped; life is once more back to normal.

So rather than wallow, I'm going to include this funny clip of Hitler having the Torchwood Season 2 finale explained to him.

R.I.P.

Well, this broke my heart a little. Some of my best childhood memories are of the Carol Burnett Show, especially Harvey Korman.

Book updates

Two more books down the hatch: Boston Boys Club and Swish.

Swish was marvelous. Joel is, as most of you know, an excellent writer. The book is everything that I expected and much more.

Boston Boys Club . . . well, the author appears to be cute. Let's just leave it at that.

I think tonight I'll start Murder in the Rue Dauphine by Greg Herren.

I'm sick, so I have a little free time on my hands.

Hmm

So . . . I met a guy this weekend.

I'm usually too . . . um, let's go with timid . . . to actually talk to guys I find attractive. Well this Saturday, I had enough Dutch courage (actually, I suppose it was Italian courage since it was really six or seven glasses of Pino Grigio) to talk to the cute redhead with the beard and the great smile.

It went really, really well.

We spent most of the weekend together and I'm planning to hang out with him this weekend, too.

I will admit that I've spent the last couple of days waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It would be really nice if, just this once, it didn't.

Woo hoo!

I just got a new writing gig. Four articles, 1000-1500 words each, $100 per article. It's for an upcoming theatre festival.

Color me psyched. That'll get me to P'town and back in August. Now I just need a gig that will pay my portion of our house rental.

So back to the books.

Last night I read Bitch Goddess by Robert Rodi. Amusing, but not his best work. The story was told in epistolary form (well, mostly, though there were some "transcribed" phone messages in there), which got to be a little much after a while.

Still, I much prefered Kept Boy (my favorite of his books) and What They Did to Princess Paragon.

After I finished Bitch Goddess, I started on Swish. I only made it through the introduction, but it was exactly what I expected from Joel - cute, funny, snarky, and just generally a lot of fun. I can't wait to read the rest.

Haiku's Day (P'town Edition)

Sand dunes hug the shore
Gulls wheel and cry overhead
So, dude, wanna fuck?

Had a great weekend in P'town, though not as great as the haiku above might indicate.

But the important thing is the weather was great, our hosts were terrific, and I had a wonderful time. Plus, I got my townie pass.

Let's see. I haven't updated the books I've read recently, so here goes.

I finished off Greg Herren's Scotty Bradley series by reading Jackson Street Jazz and Mardi Gras Mambo. Fun, quick reads. Truth is, I really like his characters, so no matter how outlandish the stories, I really enjoy reading them. Plus, I'm always interested in how writers work in issues of spirituality in their books. I suppose the best example of that is Richard Matheson (IMHO).

Anyway, I read Arthur Wooten's Fruit Cocktail, a sequel to his Picking Fruit. I'm sorry to say I really didn't like it. Tissue-thin story filled out with a series of descriptions of bad dates. The bad dates were kind of amusing, but they didn't propel the story. Just . . . not good.

I also read William J. Mann's The Men From the Boys and Where the Boys Are. Really, really liked these. Great complex characters, good stories. Terrific. Of the two, I really prefered Where the Boys Are, which was the sequel. Unlike the first novel which was told from one character's point of view, this one jumped between the three main characters. Very interesting.

I just went to Boston's Calamus bookstore (having just finished my last book that I had with me on this trip) and bought Joel's new book, Swish, Robert Rodi's Bitch Goddess, Johnny Diaz's Boston Boys Club, Greg Herren's Murder in the Rue Dauphine and Murdre in the Rue St. Anne (I forgot to get Murder in the Rue Chartres), and Summer Share, a book of short stories by Chris Kenry, William J. Mann, Andy Schell and Ben Tyler.

That should get me through the next week or so.

Random Thoughts

1) I have a Dell desktop and laptop. When I buy my next computer it's going to be a Mac laptop, because PCs suck.

2) When I was little, I wanted to be able to turn invisible as my superpower. Little did I know that I would eventually have that superpower, but that it only works in gay bars.

3) I'm in the Midwest on business. It's very flat, but there are lots of lakes and the people all are blond.

4) The fact that I'm from NY doesn't help me pull in bars.

5) I'm so fucking tired, but I'm also very hungry. I haven't decided which impulse will win.

6) And did I mention that the drinks are $3? I'm so fucking wasted that even if I did pull, nothing would happen.

Content Challenge

I made it through the whole month. Woo hoo.

Woo

Seriously, drinking on a weeknight is a bad idea.

Oops, nearly missed it

Tonight I cooked. I made veggie soup and roasted a chicken.

And that was pretty much my evening.

Tomorrow night, I'm seeing Hedda Lettuce. Should be fun.

ST:GBS

Continuing my fortnight o' Star Trek captains, tonight I saw Kate Mulgrew perform at Project Shaw. She's marvelous, which was not unexpected.

Project Shaw is the brainchild of the Gingold Theatrical Group. They put on a different Shaw play every month with the goal of performing every single play. I've only been to two productions, but they have been fantastic. The shows sell out and have a remarkably diverse crowd.

Plus, they have a raffle which is a plus in my book. Next month's performance, which I will sadly have to miss, is The Devil's Disciple. I guess I'll just have to read it instead.

BTW, is the content challenge over yet. This blogging every day is tough.

Feeling better

I'm feeling like I'm coming out of whatever has been bothering me. I'm sure it was just one of my natural depressive cycles, but this one was particularly dark. But I'm feeling better.

So, what about the Torchwood season finale? Didn't see that coming.

At least Ianto's still there.

Mmmm . . . Ianto.

Actually, as pretty as Ianto is (and I think I like him mostly because of how he dresses), my crush on the show is Rhys, Gwen's hubby.

No accounting, I suppose.

Let's see what else? I saw the season finale of Doctor Who (the one with Martha as companion). Loved, loved, loved the idea that Jack is the Face of Boe.

And Battlestar. Wow. Cylon civil war. Awesome. Can't wait to see how this ends.

Yep. That's how I spent my weekend.

Spring has sprung

Sure, I could tell by the leaves on the trees and the spring flowers in bloom, but the way I really know spring is here - the endless stream of cars driving down the street with their stereos blasting through open windows.

As the make up of the neighborhood changes, it gets worse and worse.

I think this will be my last year in this apartment.

Bolt Bus - 1, Crash - 0

After reading about it on Joe's blog, I decided to try out Bolt Bus for a trip to Philly this weekend. Well, not to Philly, but using Philly as a stopping point on the way to visit the family. By taking the bus instead of Amtrak, I'd save myself around $70.

Only problem, for this to work I had to catch the 5:30 bus, so I could catch a train in Philly to take me to the folks' house. If I caught the 6:30 bus, I'd get to Philly when the train I needed started running hourly and it would have been really, really late by the time I got home.

So I left work early. Made it to the bus with plenty of time. Only, no one was getting on the bus. They were just waiting around. Then the driver stepped out and said something that I'm sure was audible to the people standing within a foot of him, but was lost on the rest of us.

A few minutes later, a second Bolt Bus arrived. The first one backed up and left without taking any passengers. No problem, I thought, I'll get on the second one and we'll leave a few minutes later. Big deal.

Then the second bus drove off without taking any passengers.

Some people left, some stuck around. I waited for 20 minutes and walked over to Amtrak to get a ticket to Philly. All the evening's trains were sold out.

I'm sure I could have figured out a way to get home on NJ Transit; I've done it before. But I was so fucking pissed off at that point that I just called home and said I'd come next weekend.

So, in case Joe wants another review of Bolt Bus for his site, it sucks.

Whatever

That's all I've got today.

The calla lillies are in bloom again . . .

Well, actually it's the hyacinth that's in bloom again in my neighborhood. Walking down the street, every once in a while there will be a hint of that divine perfume. I love it.

And speaking of divine, hyacinth also plays a part in one of the many gay Greek myths. Hyacinth was a youth who was beloved by Apollo. Zephyros, the god of the West Wind, was also in love with Hyacinth, but hey, he was a troll and Apollo was hot.

At one point, Apollo was throwing a discus and Zephyros, jealous and angry at being rejected, blew the discus off course and caused it to smash into Hyacinth, killing him.

Apollo was so devasted that he wouldn't allow Hades to take Hyacinth into the underworld and begged him to give the boy life again. Hades refused, but from Hyacinth's blood a flower bloomed and Apollo's tears stained its leaves.

In another version of the tale, very similar to the myth of Persephone, Zeus granted Hyacinth immortality, but he could only live with Apollo for six months. The other six months were to be spent in the underworld. When he moved from the underworld to Olympus, the flowers that bore his name would blossom.

I like that ending a little better.

Still not much to say

Busy day followed by a play about women and food.

I'm off to bed.

So damn busy

So damn tired.

I'm going to bed.

Highs and lows

Saw Patrick Stewart's Macbeth today with Little David. It was really amazing. The director did some really inventive stuff, especially with Banquo's death and the banquet scene. One of the best productions of the play that I've ever seen.

That was the high.

Tonight I did my taxes. Pretty much same old, same old, until it came time to do my state taxes. Turns out my new company doesn't deduct state taxes from my paycheck. That proved to be a rather alarming and costly surprise.

That would be the low.

Ah, well. Could be worse, I suppose.

Thought of the day

There are some people in the world who say that writing stories, or composing music, or dancing sparkly dances is easy for them. Nothing interferes with their ability to create.

While I celebrate their creative freedom, a little part of me just wants to punch those motherfuckers in the teeth.

- lyrics from Die Vampire, Die! from the musical [title of show] by Hunter Bell and Jeff Bowen

Today I just want to punch some motherfuckers in the teeth.

I have been creatively dry for weeks now. I can barely blog. I can't write reviews. Everything seems stalled. Plus, all of my bad habits seem to have come back with a viciousness heretofore unknown. It's like I'm a slave to all my self-destructive impulses. The little red devil sits on my shoulder whispering, "Give in," while the angel that's supposed to be on the opposite one sits on a beach sipping planters punches while ogling the natives in their sarongs.

It blows.

I'm looking for suggestions on how to break this slump. So far all I've managed to come up with is going up to the roof with a rifle and shooting at the cars driving by with their stereos blasting. Of course, I don't have a rifle or roof access. And somehow I think hurling sarcastic bons mots from the fire escape will be less effective, though it will be more in keeping with the way people act in my neighborhood. Well, assuming "Shut the fuck up, you fucking [appropriate racial or ethnic epithet]!" passes for bons mots anywhere other than here. My own bons mots being more Shavian than that (at least in my own mind), I fear they would not help me fit in.

So now I'm left with the options of doing my taxes or watching TV and drinking. Devil votes for watching TV and drinking. Angel . . . ? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Make it so, MacDuff

I'm seeing Patrick Stewart in Macbeth on Sunday. Very, very excited. Marvelous actor, and I've heard he's amazing in this production.

And tomorrow, I'm doing my taxes. Blech. On the up side, I've sort of managed to keep all the receipts and stuff that I need. I've also tracked down most of the charitable donations I've made, too. Hopefully this year I'll get some money back. Seeing as I don't qualify for George W.'s bribe kickback tax rebate, it would be nice to get something.

Play

I did have time to see an interesting play this evening, Elizabeth Rex by Timothy Findley. Very interesting show. It imagines a meeting between certain members of the Lord Chamberlain's Men (Shakespeare included) and Queen Elizabeth on the night before the execution of Lord Essex, the Queen's former lover. An interesting play dealing with love and gender, both real and perceived.

Another long day

Okay, I realize that this is turning into my 'why I'm too tired to blog' blog. Sorry. But the work hours are getting longer and I'm still somehow falling behind.

With luck I'll be able to catch up on other things (having a life, for instance) this weekend.

Long Day

Another long day. 10 hours (12 if you count the commute because I had to go from Queens to City Hall, back to midtown, to Brooklyn, and finally back to Queens).

Tired.

Tired

Long, tiring day. Have to process some of it before I can blog about it.

Maybe tomorrow.

Charlton Heston

Just heard Charlton Heston died. I guess someone can finally get that rifle away from him now.

On the down side, America is no longer safe from hoards of marauding apes.

On the up side, today's shipment of soylent green will be slightly larger.

Armed bands of theatre critics exterminating mutant goats

Tonight I watched Monty Python's The Meaning of Life for the first time in . . . gosh, probably close to 20 years.

Still really funny. And I can still sing along to Every Sperm is Sacred.

Fun stuff.

Frak

How on earth could I have forgotten that the new BSG season started last night?

Luckily I caught the rebroadcast at midnight (or so). Interesting episode.

I'll take this over Lost any day.

Broadway twice in one week

I went to see Pinter's The Homecoming.

Creepy, creepy play.

Phenomenal cast.

All in all, I liked it.

Perchance to dream

It's not even 11 PM and I'm going to bed. This is the first night I've gone to bed before 1 AM in a week.

I plan to do nothing but sleep and do taxes this weekend.

Thursday in the Park with Crash

I just came back from seeing Sunday in the Park with George.

Meh.

But it was an interesting story, and one with which I was completely unfamiliar. I've only seen a handful of Sondheim shows.

Oh, and the special effects were good. In fact, one of the Sondheim afficienados behind me would clap her hands eagerly whenever one appeared.

Yeah, she got really fucking annoying really fucking fast. And she was a shoe tapper.

Anyhoo, off to bed. Much as I'm enjoying these 10 hour work days, I'm kind of exhausted.

Still tired

Still tired and still sick. Blech.

Just finished reading The Summer They Came by William Storandt. Not bad.

Anyway, that's it.

Exhausted

I'm so very, very tired. I'm also kind of sick. Hacking cough from cleaning this weekend. Damned allergies.

Anyway, I'm going to bed. One of these days, I'll post something substantive. I promise.

Sunday

Things I discovered while cleaning my apartment this weekend.

An expired gift certificate to an upscale Japanese restaurant. Ah well.

A $74 store credit at Barnes & Noble.

3 disposable cameras with pictures from my trip to London a couple of years ago.

2 film canisters that may have photos from who knows where or may just be unused. I have no idea how to tell the difference.

I have also rediscovered how nice it is not to have crap piled on the furniture, how fun it is to have a friend come over and hang out all day, and just the general feeling of well-being that a somewhat more organized apartment brings.

I'm still not to a place where I'd feel comfortable having anyone over who didn't already know I'm a slob, but it's getting better.

I hate cleaning

I'm cleaning my house. Or rather, I'm going through the piles and piles of crap that have built up over the last few years, throwing some stuff out, trying to find places for others.

God, this is horrid.

What's worse is that if I get this stuff done, then I can start going through the boxes from my last move a few years ago.

While most of the stuff I'm going through falls into the "WTF? Why did I keep this?" category, I did turn up a neat pair of leather restraints I bought last year.

Yeah, picture it. I dare you.

Just under the wire

Just got back from dinner with Jase, Brian, Charles, and Patrick. A belated birthday party for Patrick. Very nice, but I'm so full right now I could pop like a tick.

Probably shouldn't have had the Banana Bread Pudding. But lordy it was good.

So here's my bitchy rant for the night. A group of college kids got on my train tonight. They were a little drunk and a lot highspirtited. Loud, but not obnoxiously so, and laughing.

One of the Queens hausfraus was sitting near them and started bitching at three of them. Not, mind you, that the three that were making any noise. They were the quiet ones, the ones least likely to tell the hatchet-faced bitch to mind her own sour little business. No, these kids actually apologized.

Sadly, I didn't stand up for them and I now really wish I had. This woman was obviously unhappy. Overweight, ugly clothes, smoker's skin, an angry countenance. Married, but I'm willing to be she isn't happily so.

So she has to make other people as miserable as her.

I'd rather be surrounded by happy, laughing people, especially if they not having fun at the expense of others, than have to sit near one person as contagiously unhappy as this woman.

Next time, I'll be sure to say that.

TGAlmostF

Long, busy week. Sad to say, that's about all I have going right now.

I wish I had some stories, but I haven't even had time to read.

That said, I did finish the last book I was reading a while ago, Maisie Dobbs. Didn't care for it at first, but the characters grew on me. Not really enough to read other books by the author, but hey.

Anyway, I'm heading back to watching Eli Stone. Even more Victor Garber. In fact, most of the guys on that show are kind of hot.

Busy bee

Work just seems to be getting busier and busier. I need a vacation soon.

Unfortunately, that's all I've got today. I still have some writing to do before I can sleep.

Content Challenge Day Two

So . . . more content.

Well, I put up some of my art and decorations this weekend, so my place is looking a little snazzier. Or at least a little less Collyer Brothers.

Mind you, just a little less.

Anyway, I'm planning to do some decluttering and cleaning this weekend. I'm getting a little tired of always coming home to this mess.

Of course, once I have everything the way I like it, I'll probably have to move.

And gosh darn it, people like me!

Tonight I went to a seminar on self-esteem, how to get it for thems what needs it. Interesting, all in all.

One of the exercises had a series of statements and wanted us to put yes or no next to them. One of the statements was, "I can laugh at myself."

I can laugh at myself. It's sort of an Elaine Stritch screaming "I'll drink to that" in 'Ladies Who Lunch' laugh that eventually turns into maniacal high-pitched giggling, but it's laughter all the same.

And that, dear readers, is my official first post of the 30 day Content Challenge.

As President Bush would say, "Mission Accomplished." Then he would fart, giggle to himself at how witty he is, and take a three-month vacation in Crawford.

Day by Day

So in true theatre fag fashion, I celebrated Easter today by watching Godspell.

Victor Garber . . . yummy. And he only gets better as he ages.

So although Godspell is somewhat light on resurrection, I still feel like I got my religion in for the year.

Remembering that Lynne Thigpen died not long ago (actually, it's been over 5 years . . . tempus freakin' fugate), I decided to look up the cast of Godspell on IMDB. Time has not treated them well. Nor the playwright. Sad.

The funny thing is, I remember seeing that movie for the first time as a kid and being struck by how weird they were acting (because I'd never seen grownups act that silly) and how cool New York looked (especially the scene on top of the World Trade Center . . . that's probably part of why I live here now . . . at least more so that say The Warriors). Now I'm amazed at how very young the cast looked.

Well, now I'm off to continue my Easter worship by watching Annie . . . which is religious because . . . um . . . it's . . .

Screw you, don't judge me.

Excuse me while I kiss this guy (Wait, is that right?)

Note to the unwashed masses: I know you love your music and your iPod seems to make you a much better singer, at least to yourself. However, when you try to sing along with your iPod, please for the rest of our sake, at least make an attempt to learn the correct lyrics.

I'm fairly certain the young hip hop afficienado in the subway who loudly sang "Vouy vouy chez avec ma bitches" really meant to say "voulez-vous coucher avec moi, bitches."

Of course, having now Googled and listened to the song in question (my first R Kelly song . . . that's how much I love all my readers), the hip hop "artist" in question actually sang, "Voulez-vous voucher avec moi, bitches."

Le sigh.

No wonder he can hit those high notes

I saw a production of The Man of La Mancha this week that included an anal rape scene which I am fairly confident was not in the original production.

O . . . kay.

Anyway, the whole blogging every day thing hasn't gone that well, but then, I'm either at work or at the theatre, so I find myself with little time to do this. That said, I'm half-seriously considering joining David's content challenge on the 24th where you pledge to blog every day during the challenge or risk being heaped with scorn.

Mmmm . . . heaped with corn.

Oh wait, scorn. No that's not nearly as yummy.

Friends, Romans, Bloggers

I saw a production of Julius Caesar tonight (or as their press release read, Julius Casear). Even the Baby Queens (NYU gay boys . . . sorry, bois) having a giggle fit behind me couldn't darken my mood too much (seriously, they started giggling when Cassius mentioned his naked breast and when Brutus said the word niggard).

I don't see productions of Julius Caesar too often (which, given the current administration, is rather surprising), so it had been a while since I'd heard Anthony's funeral speech. It still gives me chills. In the hands of a good actor, the repetition of "Brutus is an honorable man. So are they all, honorable men" is devastating by the end and hearing the crowd slowly turn against Brutus as Marc Anthony slowly coaxes them to his side . . . brilliant.

Not my favorite of Shakespeare's plays by any means, but amazingly effective.

Another busy day

Too busy to write. And I'm a little under the weather.

Bloody good day

Got up early and got some stuff done at the house. Went to a short play festival (saw 18 plays). Went and saw another show in the evening. Saw an actor I know who was seeing the same show, so we went out for drinks after.

Fun, fun, fun. The plays were generally good, and hanging with the actor was great.

Good weekend so far.

And there's still two episodes of Torchwood to watch before I go to bed.

I ask you, does life get any better?

McBush

Stolen from Towleroad. If he wins, how long before we go to war with Iran?

And do you think he'll continue Bush's habit of forgetting to hunt for Bin Laden?

What, me worry?

Today the Dipshit-in-Chief endorsed the Crypt Keeper.

As he was envisioning a McCain presidency, Bush mentioned that he'd be spending his time in Crawford with his feet up.

I'm sorry, but doesn't that accurately describe the last seven years of his presidency? Other than diligently not pursuing Osama Bin Laden and the Anthrax killer (remember them?), waging war on Saddam "The Man Who Tried to Kill My Daddy" Hussein, and speaking out about the evil homosexuals, did he actually do anything but vacation?

Well, he did funnel our tax money to Halliburton and give tax cuts to the rich.

Mission accomplished.

One more thing

Note to Mike Huckabee: Suck it, loser!


Congratulations, Sen. McCain.

Best laid plans of mice and men

So much for the blogging every day. Still some is better than none, I suppose.

Work continues to be busy, so not much time for other things.

Anyway, over the weekend I read The Devil in Amber by Mark Gatiss (one of the actors from The League of Gentlemen). Fun, witty read about Lucifer Box, "portraitist, dandy and terribly good secret agent." His current adventure - save his job and his life, stop a Fascist horde from letting Satan loose on the land, and sleep with anyone (and I do mean anyone) who catches his fancy along the way. Kind of a Nick and Nora meet Jasper Fforde meet James Bond sort of thing.

Delightful.

My current read is Maisie Dobbs by Jacqueline Winspear. Not exactly sure what I think of it just yet. Detective novel set in London in the late '20s with a woman detective. Hasn't really caught my interest yet, but I'm not that far into it.

Anyway, I'm off to bed.

Back in town

I'm back. More later.