(no subject)

If a boy asks you to get naked in a hot tub with him before he asks you your name, and he's not cute, say no--his priorities are not in order.
Just something I decided tonight.

Also, fabulous red shoes are perfect for everything, including dancing half the night with two of your favorite girlfriends and the hippest ass-shaking queers in town.

Dear boy named Dan,

Here's the thing. If you ask a girl at a gay bar if she wants to "go hang out" without any prior conversation, she's going to be confused. We are in a gay bar. I do not know if you want to make out in the corner or tell me my roots are showing. But you were kinda cute, so if you're back and I'm back next week, we'll see.

love,
me

Seriously weird interlude. The trouble is that I'm not used to men approaching me anywhere at all, and so I never know what to do.

(no subject)

I guess it's time to admit why I've been hiding out for the last little while.

First of all, I found out on Friday that a friend is HIV+. The really tragically ironic part of the whole thing is that his partner died of AIDS years ago, and he was tested when his partner was diagnosed. It came up negative, but it looks like it was likely a false negative. And now he's been getting sick and the doctors are amazed that he didn't know.
Medicine is doing leaps and bounds--I know for certain, because I see the research at work every day--and so all we can do is hope. And hope is hard.

Also, I've been feeling foolish about the rapid implosion of the whole Michael situation. The problem is that, to use that awful pop psychology term that I hate so, there was no closure. And it's hard to flip the switch and stop liking someone. So whenever I'm on the Hill I sneak furtive glances off to the side to see if he's around, and when we drive past his apartment on the way to the grocery store I want to hit the deck in case he's outside, and today paying my cell phone bill I stared at all the hour long phone conversations in wonder.
Where is the island of lost boys located? I don't know how to ask when I need help.

Bah. Did anyone read the article in the New Yorker about the Unicorn tapestries at the Cloisters? I love those tapestries, and I'd love to see the colors they found on the backs of them. I think it's amazing that these vivid colors have been in hiding for a century.