Friends Only

I've decided to go mostly friends only in order to avoid being stalked, except for the occasional Writer's Block or what have you. At one point it was important for me to stay unlocked because of non-LJ people who read me, but they're all on Facebook now. Most of my blogging is there now anyway, since it's easier to do. (If you're a friend here and want to friend me on Facebook, and don't know my full real name, message me privately and I'll send you a link.) My LJ is more so for more personal, lengthy journal entries (the kind of which Facebook isn't well equipped to handle). I won't be posting any less than I have been though, LJ still serves a purpose that Facebook cannot replace.

Please comment here to be added. (Comments to this entry are screened.) Let me know who you are and how you found me. Cheers!

Last night's adventures in rideshare land...

Before I hit the road, I stopped at QT. A nice Native woman complimented me on my hair (why do I always get the most compliments when I'm desperately in need of a touch up?) and we started chatting. Turns out we're almost exactly the same age, born in the same month in the same year, and she's also an Uber driver. I friended her on Facebook and told her I'd hook her up with some of the other services that I do like FARE and Postmates.

I started out with a FARE ride, those are always welcome because they pay more. Super nice gay guy, we actually had a really heartfelt conversation about Orlando, he even thanked me for it afterwards. I decided that I wanted to stay in the gayborhood so I headed over towards Charlie's since it was getting close to 2 am. I didn't even get very far in that direction when I got an Uber ping...from Charlie's. :) Took a couple of other gay guys home, then ended up getting called over to a strip club on the West side that I actually wasn't familiar with called Jaguar's (doing rideshare in the middle of the night means you visit strip clubs quite often, so I've gotten familiar with a lot of them, especially on the East side). I picked up two guys from NY who were staying in Scottsdale. Once I was in Scottsdale, I ended up picking up a really drunk guy who wanted me to take him to a "cash point" (apparently a Big Lebowski reference that went over my head even though I've seen it) and then to a convenience store to get more mixers, but after we found a bank, he decided he didn't want the mixers and just wanted to go home. After I dropped him off and drove off, I got about a mile away and got called back to the same exact address, but with a different name. I drove back, and just as I was pulling up, they cancelled. Ooookay.

Then I picked up three younger people, two girls and a guy, from what looked like a mansion party. One of the girls asked me if I smoked and I said not when I was working, then she offered me a hit of her dab pen, I politely demurred, then she asked if she could smoke in the car, I asked her to please not, because the last thing I need is my car smelling like pot. She just kept saying "Well, at least I asked!" like that was supposed to give her brownie points. Sigh.

Then the other girl, who was on the phone, handed it to me and told me that someone wanted to talk to me. Some guy was on the phone and he said that the guy that was with them shouldn't have been, that he had just gotten into these girls' Uber. Phone Guy said that I should stop my car and make Car Guy get out. I told Phone Guy I wasn't going to just kick Car Guy out and abandon him on the side of the road at 4 am in the morning, and I was already on the freeway anyway. Phone Guy got aggressive and was all like "I don't want him knowing where they live" but Car Guy seemed harmless, whereas the Phone Guy sounded like a jerk. One of the girls said just to drop them off at the 5 & Diner nearby instead, and that would solve it. I told the Phone Guy that, and he accepted that solution. When we got to the restaurant, the girls left but Car Guy still needed a ride home, so I took him to Gilbert. We chatted on the way, he was only 18 and a basically a nice kid. I told him what Phone Guy had said, and Car Guy said that Phone Guy was another friend of theirs who was still at the party. Phone Guy had brought the girls to the party and was hoping to score with them, and was jealous that Car Guy had left with them instead. Car Guy was just like "I wasn't even interested in them, I'm just really drunk and I want to go home and eat my spinach and kale."

I did a couple more short rides which luckily were headed in a generally homeward direction. I was hoping to get an airport run, but no such luck. I finished up the morning with a Postmates run, which turned out to be a new vegan place I hadn't heard of called Urban Beans. (I'm not vegan, but I do eat that way sometimes, and lots of my friends are.) It looked pretty yummy, I'm hoping to check it out sometime.

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I had a thought this weekend that there should be a word for "the anxiety in me recognizes the anxiety in you," kind of like Namaste. When you sympathize and understand someone else's anxiety, because you've totally felt that way before too. Like Namanxiety.

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Waking up to pro-circumcision bullshit on my Facebook feed seriously makes me want to kick someone in the taint. Fuck you CDC, fuck you right in the goat ass.
silly hats only

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After the 80 billionth call on my cell phone from people attempting to extort more money out of me to pretend to sell my worthless timeshare, I have this to say about sales people.

Honest sales people, who make money by helping people buy something they actually need, want, and are looking for? Totally fine profession, one I have done in the past and will continue to do.

But sales people who attempt to cold call people and talk them into something they don't need which is pretty much a scam? They are scum. I realize that it's a tough world out there and everyone is scrambling to make a buck. But don't take a job calling people on the phone to try to scam them. There are so many other ways to make money. Do something honest. I tried telemarketing once, for two weeks when I was 18, and I'd rather muck out horse stalls than ever do it again. High pressure sales is shit. It's just shit.

Sometimes I really hate this consumerism driven culture. Buy buy buy, sell sell sell. I *hate* high pressure selling, I hate doing it, and I hate having it done to me.

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Moving on, and not looking back. Embracing my future and letting go of my past. On to bigger and better things.

Too many wonderful people in my life who treat me well to put up with someone who doesn't. I'm a beautiful, intelligent, amazing person, and I deserve better than that. I treat the people in my life very well, and if they can't return the favor, they shouldn't be in it.


Today is a day that used to mean something. On this day 7 years ago something special happened. It still means something, but now, it's just a sad memory. And what hurts more than anything else is that I know they don't care.

But it matters to me, whether I want it to or not.

I miss you. I miss what we used to be.

I know I just need to let it go. And someday, I know it will be just another day.

Not today, though.
moon phase

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I love the clever and seductive use of language in the Andrew Marvell's 17th centure poem To His Coy Mistress, a fanastic a plea as ever I've read to get one's ladylove into the sack. There's just something about the line, "And into ashes all my lust" that speaks to me.

To His Coy Mistress

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, Lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

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You know, I've seen this poem so many times to the point of it being cliché. It even used to make me a little angry at times, I thought it was kind of glib and dismissive of the real pain that death causes to those left behind.

But it makes a lot more sense to me now. Dan never wanted to speak of dying or sickness. It wasn't just about not complaining or being a burden (though he definitely was one of the most positive, patient, kind, and selfless people I have ever known). It was about living life to the fullest while he still could, about concentrating on life and joy and wonder. He told me once that his favorite quote was Horace's Ode 1.11, also known as the "carpe diem" speech - in his own words: "...So the idea is to carpe diem — seize the day and treasure what it has to offer. Who knows what tomorrow brings? Enjoy today!"

Finding out the story behind the poem too means a lot; it was apparently written to comfort a woman who had found out that her mother had died and she could not return to her home country to be able to mourn her.

I spent some time alone out in the desert this weekend under a canopy of billions of stars, and I found him there (he loved NASA and space exploration). I think of him now when I see an airplane pass (he was obsessed with aviation and one of the few deaf people in the world to hold a pilot's license). I hope to make it back to Alaska some day, and I know I will see him in the diamond glint of the snow, and in the chilly Arctic winds that blow right through you.