Ultramundane: It’s Just Not Natural

And surely it will come as no surprise to anyone that I did far better in the “vices” category than the “sports/athletics” one.

Well, that year went out with a bang. Took the Day Without A Gay off and met up with a small but spirited protest against Proposition 8 that evening. Met with a kitchen designer to discuss layouts and kitchen cabinets. The next morning I was laid off from my job. At least we hadn’t done all of our Christmas shopping yet.

A week later we left for Virginia for our usual big family holiday event there and sadly had a poor experience in Virgin America’s First Class. We expect to fly coach next time…and like a Cher farewell concert, we referred to the flight as “our first last-time-in-First.” But it might end up as our last after all. Returned for a city inspection (that was more effort setting up than complying with) and a canceled kitchen appointment and a living room full of…stuff. (I have a bit of cleaning, sorting and organizing to do.)

Consequently we really were just hoping for an uneventful New Year’s Eve celebration, which is what we got. Making all the lucky foods we can—black eyed peas, greens, cornbread, round cakes—and wearing yellow underwear while doing it. Not that I’m superstitious or anything.

I’m not making a New Year’s resolution to blog more, but I’ve been enjoying microblogging with Twitter and Plurk (and Facebook), so I’m hoping I can translate that into more posts. Perhaps I’ll finish my World AIDS Day post or some of my half-finished work-related ones. Perhaps I’ll subject you to more about my gaming life and about my hunt for a new job. A friend of The Boyfriend’s said that even though I’m unemployed, we should still drink champagne sometimes—and that it’s probably even more important that we do. So I raise a glass and toast to you. Best wishes for your 2009.

To the Lord let praises be
It’s time for dinner now let’s go eat
We’ve got some beans and some good cornbread
Now listen to what the preacher said.

—Lyle Lovett, “Church”

…which is, I suppose, at least better than stereotyping.

Update: speaking of type, as it turns out, at first I didn’t use the correct one. So I had to go in and, er…Change.

You should hear the screaming and shouting and horn-honking here in the Mission district of San Francisco at 8:01pm. The Boyfriend stopped to get champagne on his way home at the BevMo and the shelves were almost bare. I think we had a suspicion. I think there might be just one America, and not two afterall.

So there’s half of the party going on tonight in the Castro. We’ll see what happens as the State counts its ballots; hopefully we will be drinking champagne in celebration and not to dull the pain.

The conservative course is not to banish gay people from making such commitments. It is to expect that they make such commitments. We shouldn’t just allow gay marriage. We should insist on gay marriage. We should regard it as scandalous that two people could claim to love each other and not want to sanctify their love with marriage and fidelity. -David Brooks, New York Times

While a group met in San Diego for a prayer meeting for ‘traditional’ marriage on Sunday, we like other people across the state went to a last-minute wedding with a different kind of prayer. I’m not one to say Amen, but it’s hard to disagree with a Presbyterian minister when she says that the love celebrated in a wedding is not a political act, but a divine one. She prayed that not only would Bill and Branden be united as husbands to God and community, but also would remain so in the eyes of the state and become so for the whole country. It was likewise hard not to burst into applause after everyone had signed the license and she noted softly, “It’s legal.” Amen, sister.

It’s a little bittersweet…the rush by the couples trying to get this done before the uncertainty of Tuesday’s election; the possibility that complete strangers can look at Bill and Branden, or our neighbors and friends, or even at me and The Boyfriend, and say to our faces, “You don’t have the same rights we do. We don’t think you deserve this.” We as gay people must be crazy to want this. That’s why they call it an institution, I suppose. For now we sit on pins, waiting to hear if the majority really will uphold the rights of the minority.

Bill and Branden, a million wishes for your happiness, whatever the voters decide. Forgive the gallows humor, but let’s hope the marriage lasts longer than Wednesday.

On Halloween night, I am drinking a glass of absinthe while watching a History Channel show on notorious subterranean locations in ancient and Victorian England.

Suddenly I suspect I am not wearing enough eyeliner.

When I took this in the mirror I said to myself, “Happy Birthday, old man.”

The Boyfriend got me a very nice Absinthe spoon along with glasses and a bottle of Lucid. And after I opened presents we went to Absinthe for dinner. Kind of a theme going there. My parents got me Rock Band 2 and an iPod, continuing on the theme that they rock.

And being both old and tipsy, you can imagine I fell right to sleep.

Posted here mostly because I got a different result than most of the people I’ve seen take it.

The customer service agent at the airline had to put me on hold for a second while she checked on getting me a vegetarian meal for the flight. Suddenly my ears were filled with Dale Bozzio singing “Destination Unknown.”

I’m not sure which number to press in the phone tree if you don’t know your destination.

As it turns out they discontinued any ’special’ meals, even in First Class, back in 2002. “Hope there’s something on board you can eat!” she said, sympathetically. I’m surprised the hold music wasn’t “Hungry like the Wolf.”