Mystery Solved, Shifting Loyalties, and Queer Freedom

From 304 Winfield Street, San Francisco, CA:

Yesterday, the mystery of what happened to Guille was solved. I noticed him online and chatted him up. He was cordial and even friendly and loving, yet he was on there to call his sister for her birthday. The day before he had sent me an email explaining that he had received the funds for his mother’s medical treatment, that the treatment was going well, and that he had been busy traveling around to take care of her. In other words, he was very busy, so didn’t have time to answer my emails or phone calls during that week. Then, while we chatted online, when I realized he was preoccupied with his sister’s birthday, I offered to wait and chat with him whne he finished with her. He seemed glad about that and said, “Dale,” in Spanish, which means, “Let’s do it.” So, I waited and waited for him, then I noticed that he signed off chat, then briefly back on, then off again, without chatting with me. I can’t help but feel disappointed. I’m feeling like the best move now would be to let him contact me, rather than throwing so much of my energy into what may be a lost cause.

No, that is too harsh. I want to let him contact me so that there is a balance in desire to connect within the relationship.

Interestingly, Paul T., who I met in Rio on my last trip and who now lives in Cordoba, Argentina, started chatting me up yesterday. This after I had decided not to seek him out any fruther since he didn’t want to meet with me while I was in Argentina. I told him that I didn’t feel like he was really a friend because chatting online once every several months didn’t make a friendship for me. I asked him if his boyfriend had broken up with him, and of course that was the case, probably because he gave his boyfriend the same on-and-off again attentions he has given me. He thinks a deep connection with me isn’t possible because of the distance, or so he says to me, even though he is now coming to the States on a regular basis. We left it that he will contact me on his next trip to the States and we will meet in person to see how things work out between us. Basically, I feel like it’s up to him at this point.

Queer Freedom Day Stickers for June 2006 - Pink Party, Pride, and Mikes on Bikes

Meanwhile, on the eve of Queer Freedom Day in San Francisco, I met up with Robin Hood, who I had met previously at the Vancouver Green Body radical faerie gathering. He is a faerie who lives on an island on the Canadian coast. He and I set up a ritual (or scene) where I met him at the dinner that Kirk R. and his partner Ed had set up for Canadians coming to Witch Camp in Mendocino redwood territory. The scene involved a whirlwind tour of San Francisco’s queer underbelly, with him blindfolded and on collar and lead. We had a great time at various venues, such as navigating through 20,000+ people at the Pink Party on Castro Street, where I showed him the center of gay mecca as well as Harvey Milk’s camera shop, while we danced, him blindfolded, in the streets. People tried yanking his chain, removing his blindfold, and other shenanigans, sometimes without permission, but apparently the protective spell we cast to initiate the ritual on my back deck held well throughout the evening. We also visited the Hole in the Wall, where we removed the blindfold briefly so he could appreciate the visual panoply of this historic dive, then to the Powerhouse which we checked out and kissed and got blown on the rear patio after navigating stairs jam-packed with sweaty guys, all while he was still blindfolded and on collar and lead. Then, to Blow Buddies, the first time for both of us, where they made us remove the blindfold, and we watched lots of mindless sex in little cabins with glory holes and got blown again by a cute boy who sat on a toilet seat after we pissed in the nearby urinals. I liked how Robin Hood shared the boy freely with me and I loved the feeling of his short dark hair in my hands as my dick slid in and out of his sweet throat. I pet him as he sucked me, then kissed him after I came in his mouth, tasking my own cum on his lips. Then, we left Blow Buddies and headed to Afterglow, a Comfort & Joy party at Antler’s place in the Inner Richmond. There, we released our scene of Beauty (Robin Hood) and the Prince (moi) by Robin Hood saying, “And they lived happily ever after.” We partied a bit more there and I met a delicious faerie named Yoyo who Robin Hood urged me to get to know better, so I made out with and smoked a little pot with him. It turns out he is caretaking Eric (Cattail) and Mitcho’s cabin up at Covelo, and the next morning, after riding groggily with Mikes on Bikes (gay guys on bicycles) just after Dykes on Bikes (lesbians on motorcycles) who start the Queer Freedom Day Parade in San Francisco, I was at a brunch with Cattail and Mitcho where Cattil invited me to a little gathering over July 4th weekend at their place in Covelo. Thus, a possible time to hang out with Yoyo some more, although he may still have a “friend from New York” visiting him at that time. I’m trying not to get too attached to the notion of him falling for me, although I bet I could fall for him.

I saw him again on Queer Freedom Day when I went with the brunch boys from Johnny Thunder and Brian’s place in the Haight over to the Faerie Freedom Village. We weaved our way through the humungous crowds to drop our bikes off at the cool valet parking offered by the San Francisco Bike Coalition. The Faerie Freedom Village seemed more packed than usual, and with a lower proportion of faerie faces I knew to those I didn’t. That still meant hundreds I did meet and greet, including Ron and Rog who are real sweeties. A photographer friend persuaded Ron and me to get nekkid for pictures in the Vilalge, including some with the grease-covered buy in overalls who organizes Mikes on bikes each year. Hopefully, she will email copies of the pics as promised. I even had enough energy to stop in at the Mikes on Bikes party at Marty’s place on 14th St. on my bike ride home. I was hoping Yoyo might show up there as well, but he had been up all night since he stayed at Antler’s and probably crashed out somewhere before heading to the Mikes on Bikes party. I called and left a message with him about potentially hanging out a bit in Covelo over July 4th weekend. I will go anyway because it sounds like a fun group and an amazing place, even if I don’t get to hang with Yoyo.

Meanwhile, I’m focusing this week on Egypt, reading history and learning hieroglyphics. My project is gradually coming together and I’m very excited to be working on my true passion. Let’s hope the money side of things works out as well.

I’m really loving riding my new bike with the raised handlebars, so I don’t have to worry so much about my neck/spine trouble, and I’m ready to check out local swimming pools to get even more exercise. I’m doing yoga almost every day before I work on the novels, and I’m eating carefully to keep my weight down. I’m experimenting with going off my blood pressure medication and, so far, the blood pressure reading averages appear to be the same as when I was on the medication.

Storm’s buddy Hawke is visiting us for awhile and we are still searching for another housemate since the departure of Joannes (aka Janice) and Kat. I saw them at the Trans Rally and March on Friday, which I attended wearing a paisley skirt on my new bike.

Home Safe and Sound

From 304 Winfield Street, San Francisco, CA:

I made it home safe and sound.

South America was amazing for me.

Taking care of Grampy in Washington, D.C., along with my mother, was important.

Sending money to Guille in Montevideo may have been foolish. I’ve been trying to reach him by phone every day since I got back here with no success. I’m not sure why it’s so much worse for me not knowing what has happened then, let’s say, hearing from him that he no longer wants me to contact him. The uncertainty of not knowing if something has happened to him is part of it. Perhaps it’s part of my “wanting to rescue a boy” complex like Nikas talked about.

I met Nikas when I invited Storm out for a night dancing at the End Up. Storm flirted with him first — we both thought he was real humpy. It surprised me when he said he wanted to spend the night with me instead of Storm. He actually gave Storm $20 for a taxi home when I mentioned I was worried about him getting home OK. Storm seemed happy with the arrangement and Nikas didn’t seem like a psycho-killer, so I went home with him.

When we arrived in his bed, he told me has been HIV+ for years. We still hugged and kissed. I was horny, so jacked him off, which he liked, and he then did the same for me. It was comfortable hanging out with him, even though he confided in me that he’s had a speed addiction, shooting it up. Although he says he’s now off it, I get the sense that it may rear its ugly head in his life again. We ate a nice brunch at a place called Cafe 69, or something like that, on Maiden Lane. Then, we went our separate ways. It’s been a few days and I haven’t heard a peep from him. He has my info and Storm has his phone number in his cell phone.

Visiting Grampy After Grammy’s Death

From Alexander Bloomfield’s apartment in Rockville, MD:

I caught a cold from Grampy’s helper Bertila on Monday, so I’m feeling congested and have a sore throat. I’m still cooking meals for Grampy and the rest of us with Mom’s help. Grampy’s spirit seems to rise when he eats good food, although sometimes he claims not to care about what he eats. He definitely has a sweet tooth, consuming a lot of cake and chocolate. Luckily, getting him back on his blood pressure medication has lowered his blood pressure to acceptable levels. Twice a day, Mom, Grampy, and I sit around the table taking our blood pressure and we all remind each other to take our pills each morning.

I went down to the front dest of the apartment building yesterday where I met Bev(erly) and asked her where I could go to buy a boombox. She told me where I could go, but then mentioned that she was trying to give an old one away and she’d be happy to bring it in the next morning. I told her a few times I’d be glad to pay her for it, but she said she didn’t want anything for it. When I asked ni9cely one more time when picking it up from her this morning, she mentioned that if I really wanted, I could get her three or four mangoes, so that’s my mission before leaving here on Saturday.

I’m lying around listening to the music I got in Brazil and trying to recover rapidly from this cold. I’m homesick for San Francisco and lovesick for Guille. I want to get myself set up at home to do yoga then write for a couple of hours each morning. I want a bicycle that won’t strain my neck when I ride it. I want to start swimming 2-3 times a week in a nice swimming pool.

I’m experiencing Internet withdrawal.

First Impressions on Return to United States

My first impressions on returning to the United States–

  • I’m still hearing Portuguese chatter even when people aren’t speaking it.
  • Three obese passengers requested “extenders” on the plane so they could buckle their seatbelts.
  • I had a discussion with a guitarist named Mary in the Dallas – Fort Worth airport about political, economic, and social problems in the United States:
    • Medical care disappearing
    • Education system failing
    • Corporate control of media
    • Cost of taxpayers of wars — corporate lobbying and profiteering
    • Effect on cost of travel abroad
    • Intense effects on workers of corporate welfare capitalism — multiple jobs, long commutes, no time for political awareness or participation
    • Concentration of increasingly immense portion of all wealth in decreasing proportion of the population
  • Time to buy land abroad?
  • Bloated faces of U.S. pod people ;-)
  • People don’t touch each other as much in non-sexual contexts

Rainy Beach

Nothin’ much sadder than a
Beach town in the rain.
The place ain’t built for it
and the sky water leaks down
through cracks we never guessed
at onto the sunburnt necks
of frowning tourists who flee sunward
stranding only those who
have no better destination in mind,
afloat under thundrous skies.