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This morning the CA Supreme court decided in favor of gay marriage! Prop 22 will be stricken from the books!

"Accordingly, in light of the conclusions we reach concerning the
constitutional questions brought to us for resolution, we determine that the
language of section 300 limiting the designation of marriage to a union 'between a man and a woman' is unconstitutional and must be stricken from the statute, and that the remaining statutory language must be understood as making the designation of marriage available both to opposite-sex and same-sex couples. In addition, because the limitation of marriage to opposite-sex couples imposed by section 308.5 can have no constitutionally permissible effect in light of the constitutional conclusions set forth in this opinion, that provision cannot stand."

Mintwaster's requested haiku.

Legalize LA
Took over the streets today.
I joined after work.

Los Angeles is burning again. Last year the winds deposited ash on my car. This year, not even May and record highs and I can't find my plaid shorts. What do do, what to do?
Today is the first barbecue of the season and I agreed to run the grill. I am dreading standing there red faced and sweaty all afternoon, but there is beer, and we'll be raising money for the pride event. So yes, if you are in LA, come to the Eagle this afternoon. If you are not, have happy memories of me and Queer Food for Love.

queer food

I'm just sayin.

Tonight I left my crazy busy job and drove to East Pasadena to tutor a fifth grader. Last term I taught the parents English, but this term they needed more tutors for the kids.

Today we spent an hour learning that the angles in a triangle all add up to 180° and the angles in a quadrilateral all add up to 360°.

As we were preparing to leave, she said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"...Are you a girl?"

"Yes, I am a girl."

"Oh. Because I thought you were not a girl. Because of your hair."

"Do you not know any girls with short hair?"

"No. And also I thought Fran was a boy's name."

"Like Francisco?"

"Yeah."

"Well I'm just Fran."

"Okay."

"What do all of the angles in a triangle add up to?"

"Uhm...180?"

"Yep. I think you've got it!"




Also, this banner is hanging in the school where Lawrence King was murdered:

Not Normal

Music: public tv

It is 5:25 am. I am watching West Wing and listening to the rain and thinking about preparing a presentation for work this morning. I have not been to bed because I was taking part in a mini homelessness census in Santa Monica. It is pouring rain, so the folks we found are the true hardcore chronically homeless. Next week we'll try to interview all of them.

So after counting folks in doorways in Santa Monica I arrived home to find LK asleep on our doorstep, which is quite luckily covered. She locked herself out when she went to smoke. HA! Serves her right.

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Mood: up
Music: the rain

if bush decides to give me a tax rebate as part of his stimulus package (doesn't that sound dirty?) i'm planning to spend it in canada. on my gay ass wedding. so there.

bicycling friends: please wear a helmet.

tonight i was supposed to go listen to christmas music in a very pretty cathedral. instead i watched a cyclist get slammed by a car, flip a few times in the air, and land right next to my front wheel. after saying holy fucking shit and dialing 911, i hopped out to see if he was, like, dead. the car that hit him had a crushed windshield, but drove off anyway, the schmuck. the guy's bike was literally broken into three pieces. the guy was bleeding a big puddle of blood that was leaking out of a gash in his face and from underneath his helmet. he was breathing. his eye was cut up and bloody. and no one could get through to 911, which was possibly the scariest part.

medics arrived and they lifted him on a back board. once the ambulance left, the crowd thinned out, but four of us stayed to wait for the cops, who arrived 20 minutes later to take statements.

what was weird, really, was the waiting for the cops. there were four of us. we all sat on the terrace of a nearby restaurant, where they brought us coffee and water for free. we didn't share names, occupations, or anything personal. instead, we kept retelling the story of the cyclist getting hit, rehearsing for the cops. i kept thinking about the blood pooling on the asphalt. actually, that's what i'm thinking about now.

I keep having encounters with a person that I’m not sure how to deal with.  I’ll spare you the details but put forth the following important, related question. What if the specificity of my situation surpasses the limits of Google? 
There is something disheartening about the way Google makes seemingly everything accessible.  It takes away the guesswork from little things that in some not-too-distant past would have required effort, maneuvering. 
Best restaurant in your neighborhood?  No need to try them all.
Movies playing down the street?  Don’t bother with the short walk. 
Need to write a thank you note or a love letter?  Google makes it easy to express emotions you never knew you had. .
I am so used to Googling things that often the urge overtakes me in the most inappropriate situations.  Awkward situation at work?  I wonder if anyone else has ever has this EXACT thing happen and how they dealt with it and what were the consequences? 
I guess I’d just rather, for my own sake, think that my moral fiber is built by my reading of Tolstoy, the Bible, or at least, you know, Derrida, not random search strings. 
Which brings me to the real question: how to phrase your search.  Google doesn’t accept narrative.  It needs keywords.  “Awkward meeting solutions –film +corned + beef.” “eating faux pas reindeer cottage cheese.”
Making those up made me wonder what the strangest string of words I have ever googled are.  Luckily Firefox saves these things, so I’ll check.  Hang on…
Well, this turned up, “embrasement 1889 tour Eiffel” but I am sure that was LK.  So for my own personal ones I’m choosing “tipplers bane” which I had to search for again to rediscover that it is a mushroom that makes you puke if you eat it with alcohol, and “people walking away,” which I’ll leave open to interpretation. 
What’s the weirdest saved phrase you have in your google?

i drank too much tequila. but it's ok! i didn't puke. instead i took a bath and am watching six feet under until i am not drunk. i hate sleeping when i am drunk.

my father sent me a you tube link. what is this world coming to?

I'm feeling very linear right now:

1. I went to France for two weeks. It was wonderful.

2. I am starting a new job on November 13. I am sad to leave CHIRLA, but this is a great opportunity to work with a person I respect and, I hope, to learn a lot. It is going to be a challenge, but I'm up for it.

3. LK is coming home for a visit. I'm going to have a dinner party, probably on Veteran's Day. You are invited.

4. I need to go clothes shopping. Dread.

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I am leaving for France tomorrow, and nothing else matters.

Except doing laundry and dishes so I can go to France tomorrow.

I am probably disproportionately happy with myself for having cleaned my apartment top to bottom today. It is clean enough for lk to come home to, i think. I do wish she were coming home soon...

Tonight I made vegan chili and went to an art opening with a coworker. It was unremarkable--poured acrylic necklaces called wearable forms.

Then we had strawberry mint sorbet. It was remarkable--fresh strawberry taste, not too sweet, with little flecks of real mint leaves.

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I've been thinking a lot lately about displacement and coming home. I remember very distinctly the feeling of landing in California a few years ago after I had been living in France for a while. I was coming to visit Margaux. I remember that everything in Long Beach was at the same time foreign and strange to me and yet intimately familiar. It felt like coming home again to a place where I had not lived for a long time.

The air felt bright and empty, and the roads and the layout of the city made sense, even though I had never spent any amount of time there. Money worked like it should--no point of sale conversions. Language worked as it should, but still felt slightly foreign.

I think what I am describing is the feeling of country.

The United States is so huge that sometimes it feels as if traveling from one state to the next is a journey around the world. And indeed, Long Beach and Birmingham are as disparate as can be, but there is just something familiar about them both if you are coming from another culture.

I remember leaving Quebec City many years ago and flying into the Atlanta airport. Airports are special--non-places, as they have been called--but the staff, the folks who live in the city of the airport are always a little window into what the city might be like. I remember being enveloped in the honey slow accent of a gate agent when I stepped off the plane and feeling automatic at-homeness--a deep sense of well-being and relief that I didn't even know I needed.

i was really exited about coming home this weekend. it hasn't been so great, but is still kind of great. it is nice to remember where i am from, and how much a part of my identity it really is. and also to remember about self-medicating and how nice it is that in my real life that is not really necessary.

my mom had pretty bad reaction to the wedding news. like, "i'm a failure, what went wrong, why are you this way, i'm a failure, it's so wrong, god doesn't want this for you, the bible says so, what would my friends think, i'm so embarrassed, what went wrong, who seduced you into homosexulaity, it's so wrong, i'm a failure."

my dad had a meh reaction. not particularly supportive, not condemning either. like, "oh, so that's why your mom was so quiet last night. well, yeah. you know how i feel about this, but you know i love you no matter what."

it's funny, i cried at my dad's reaction and i kept very cool for mom's. i think her crazy just makes it easier. i don't really want or expect anything from her. i do from my dad, and i really hoped he would be a little warmer about it.

we went to the game tonight, and i have to say that i enjoy a good alabama football game. it's a pretty emotional thing for me. or maybe that was the michelob ultra talking.

also, i saw a lot of great babies on this trip. i want one.

also, i feel like an alien here. even though i borrowed an alabama football polo shirt from my dad. no, there are no pictures.

Location: alabama
Music: brotherhood 2.0

Laura is gone for four months. All I can do today is search for airfares to France. I am sad. And I have a cold. Feel sorry for me!

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Mood: sadsniff, sniff

man, i love the internet. now i know that my friend, uhm ex-friend, brad got married on august 11th. and someone bought him and his lovely bride a four hundred dollar pasta bowl. thanks internet. i feel a little sick now.

i had a dream last night that my brother was being chased and mauled by a rooster. wishful thinking?

First of all, it is wary sad that a fire in Echo Park damaged my favorite cafe, the place where try to go each morning to write an unspecified number of words on my dissertation each morning. Also the store next door, La Ti Da, which is owned by a very nice queer woman.

That said, this morning I was afforded the opportunity to try a new cafe. I chose Sanjang Coffee and Garden on Virgil, right on the edge of Korea town. It is a werid place. VERY nice. Lots of seating, most of it outdoors. It's all wood and trees and delicious rich soymilk in my coffee. I actually did write some of those aforementioned words. Yay!

But the music. Man, the music, which is annoyingly piped outside has consisted of almost unbearably eclectic, uhm, classics? ABBA (Waterloo), some Korean music, soft rock version of "Somewhere over the Rainbow," some Korean folk music.... Oh, hooray! Olivia Newton John!

I will continue to come here until the Downbeat is fixed, or Intelligentsia opens near my house, which ever comes first.

In other news, LK and I continue to look for an appropriate place to get hitched in Montreal. She already ruled out this garden place ("too cliche") and I kind of ruled out the grungey cafe/art space that I feel will be dark and smell like cigarettes. Today she is calling the gutted factory that is now a performance space. That could be cool!

Finally, at work, things are shifting around a bit. I'm not sure if it is for the better, but we shall see. I am taking on a lot of external communications work (Web, e-mail, myspace, newsletter, and annual report) and a lot of other folks have new responsibilities as well. A couple people are leaving in the fall to go to school, but they aren't actually hiring anyone new to take over. Interesting...

I am really, really excited about marrying Laura. I am so incredibly lucky. I don't know, something weird happened and I got very lucky.

That said, planning the wedding is kind of a pain, and I'll tell you why. Money.

I mean, I'm an event planner. That is what I do. I know HOW to plan a wedding, vaguely. But everything costs money. Want a place to stand around and say some vows? And if I want pictures of my wedding, that's gonna cost money. Video? Money? Food? Money. (Although we are working on having something akin to queerfoodforlove: the wedding! Sorry if you like meat a lot!) And of course we are asking our guests, those who can even come, to spend money to get to Montreal.

Money man. Fuck that.

I am very happy to have discovered the idofoundation.org, which makes it possible for the money you and others spend go to the charitable enterprise of your choice. I'm thinking Lambda Legal, for the great work they do on workplace equality, but I haven't consulted with LK.

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