Voice Mail

Not a big fan of calling people up on the phone, who I have not met in person, despite what business I may or may not have with that individual.

Which why voice mail and other answering machine devices are priceless. One is able to contact another individual, without actually having a personal contact with that individual. Impersonable like email.

Contacted my Faerie contact person. Got his voice mail, and knew by the tone of his message, this was going to work out. Called shortly before heading out for the night, and had a long discussion with him. He seems to be very down to earth, friendly, and someone in person, I'd probably get along with, quite well. Got a kick out him saying "you need to write these names down...why are you not writting them down!," in reference to people I need to plan on meeting up.

I'm still planning on going. From what I gather, besides being a unique situation and gathering, there will be time for discussion with individuals, and time to spend alone with myself. I felt that way many times on the cruise-specially that one night on the side of the ship with Allan, I've also felt this odd sense of freedom in Europe and my other escapades around the globe. This will be a good thing.

On my walk with Frank, I expressed some of my concerns regarding the "gathering". He informed me, that if he knew me as much as he thinks he knows me, which he does, that I will fall in love with it and morph into that world without a problem. We'll see what happens. The Gathering is the first week of August..the 3rd to the 10th or something....

Crash and Burn

Woke up this morning about 1:00 a.m. and didn't crash untill 12 hours later. Needless to say, I didn't accomplish any tasks today, and feel like warmed over mash-potatoes.

Tomarrows mission, if I choose to accept it, involves schelping the remainder of the rummage sale left-overs along with a bin of clothes to goodwill, mow the back yard, and get a nap in before heading into work.

Unbeknownst to me, the Harry Potter movie release date was changed, and I have the opportunity to see it tonight. This could be a possibility, as, chances are, I'll be up roaming the house, in a white sheet, and chains, going oooooo, scaring no-one except Mr. Phat Borris Esq the First, who, at this stage of the game, is so used to my antics, I'm commonly ignored.

I'm not excited about the new movie or the new book, strange for somone self-proclaimed as a Harry Potter Fan. Maybe its just me, which is probably is...

White Wedding

When my special day arrives and my sequin, rhinestoned to filth, off-white dress hand sewed by children in third-world countries, designed by Vera Wang, with a train only 3 miles long, is finally placed on my ripped, silicone injected body, it will be a quite private affair.

Madonna will be upsett that she wasn't invited, along with other A-listers, including but not limited to: boy-george, the Kennedy's (what's left of them), and Bill Clinton. Hillary will be invited. The press will be told incorrectly of the date and time, as to not cause a scene. My family will be up in arms, being gay-marriage virgins, loose themselves in a concoction of Miller-light and brandy, asking themselves what exactly is going to "go-down". They will scorn to the knowledge of my marriage, and possibly forget to even arrive. I'll walk my own gay ass down the asile, spank you very much! My 12 karat diamond engagement ring will blind them ever-so.

Arriving via US-Postal Mail was a wedding invite, for a wedding on August 25th, in La Crosse, Wi. I don't work that weekend, and incidently will be somewhat in the vincinity.

I love me a little traditional wedding with cake, chicken-dance, and grandma's in rags from the 1950's, like the rest of us, however, the person getting married, is someone from my way past. No it isn't Kara. That fucking bitch, didn't even bother to ask to help her pick out a China Pattern, less a fucking invite.

She and I met back in 1995, at Viterbo. Since my depature from the campus, I have ran into her maybe 3 times in the last 12 years? Surprised that she had my address-with the onslaught of internet technology, it isn't difficult to track anyone down, at any given point in time. Google is your friend, apparently when it comes to wedding invites, and not Christmas Cards.

If she is fishing for a good fabulouse gift, then the wedding will be a hoot, maximizing she invited any fag within a 300 mile radius of her home-town. That alone would be props to going, to run into some old booze hound I slept with back in 1995 on some fold-out dorm room futon, who is hunched over his ninth wiskey sour, with a half-lit ciggerette out of his mouth.

I, of course, granted I attend such affairs, will more than likely fabulouse, put together, and stunning. I'll arrive just before the ceremony takes place, leave shortly after the food is taken away, and head straight to the local watering hole, to cap off the evening.

White weddings. I don't know.