Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in LHFox's LiveJournal:

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Saturday, September 1st, 2007
4:44 pm	What Do You Have To Say? - Photography: The Best Advice There were 10 cameras on our rafting trip. After reviewing the photos, our group came to realize the most natural and accurately framed candid shots were taken by the only participant with no eyesight. Like all our physically tangible assets, don't let the sense of sight combined with an overwhelming desire for all photos to be "great shots" overpower the essence-capturing intuition that comes natural to the "good" photographers. (Comment on this)
Monday, June 26th, 2006
10:21 pm	Yes, LHFox LIVES! Sorry for the LONG gap between postings, but in a nutshell, the last 3+ years have been a HELL of a ride! I am happy to announce that the premature reports of my death are just that. I am living (and quite satisfactoraly) here in the Tenderloin section of San Francisco. For those of you who wish to contact me directly, my phone number hasn't changed in almost 5 years (someone you know out there has it). My current email is toddrego@gmail.com, and you can text msg me at frisky@tmomail.com. The postings should become longer and more detailed in the weeks and months to come. For now, I just want to send out warm vibes and bright blessings to all those who kept me in your thoughts. Namasté Todd- (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 23rd, 2000
10:31 am	From Michael - THANK YOU! Infatuation is instant desire Love is friendship that has caught on fire Infatuation is marked by a feeling of insecurity, unanswered questions, nagging doubts Love is quiet understanding and acceptance of imperfection Infatuation says, "We must get married right away, I can't risk losing him" Love says, "Be patient, don't panic, He is yours, Plan your future with confidence" Infatuation has an element of sexual excitement, being together has to end in sex Love is a natural progression of friendship, one that grows into being lovers Unknown (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 22nd, 2000
7:54 pm	Intoxicated Blindness I fell in love, and hard. As a matter of fact, I still love him. But I am fully aware now that we cannot be what he told me he wanted us to be. After we met and during the first full weekend we spent together, Cassady and I talked about what direction we wanted our relationship to go in. In what I thought was an honest and thought-out statement, Cass said he wanted a long-term monogamous relationship. I almost swallowed my tongue. I haven't been monogamous in almost ten years, and I really had no desire to be. But my profound feelings for this very special man overrode my polyamorous beliefs and desires. From that point, Cassady was the only man for me. But at the time, (what I thought was only) one obstacle stood in the way: GREG. It seems that Greg and Cassady had something together before Cass and I met. Cass even slept over Greg's house one night during what was supposed to be our introductory weekend together. I trusted Cassady to be honest with me and tell me everything that went on. I didn't find out that they had slept together that night until just this weekend. Let me tell you how that went down... I drove to San Francisco Thursday afternoon with Greg and a friend of his. The three of us were meeting up with Cass and his really old friend Jeremy (from Oregon and already at Cass' place in Oakland) that night, then picking up seven more people in San Francisco on Friday to head out to a weekend rave. Greg, Cass and myself all slept in Cass' bed. The attention Cass was paying to us was divided all night and into the morning. Friday morning, Cass lead me out to the garden at the crack of dawn. We kissed, then I allowed him to fuck me. Once he was done, I finished myself off by hand. We then cuddled for a while, and I asked him about Greg. He had not yet told Greg that he and I were embarking on a monogamous relationship together. I then asked him if they had "consummated" their relationship yet, something Cass told me they had not done the last time I asked. When he told me yes, that they had fooled around, I immediately deduced that it happened the morning following the very day he told me he wanted a monogamous relationship, the morning after his 33rd birthday. This was the beginning of my doubts. As the weekend wore on at the rave, I sat back and watched Cassady pour his affections all over Greg and a number of other people who he described as "special connections." At one point, I told someone who knows Cass (someone that I had just met) that Cass was my boyfriend. He replied with a chuckle "Boyfriend? It looks like Cassady has five boyfriends this weekend." Cassady has been using psychedelics for many, many years. The laundry list of drugs that he tells me that he has consumed in his lifetime would have certainly brought the average person to their early grave. For some reason though, Cassady has survived, and he tells many stories of "High Magic", colorful psychedelic visions and unbelievable mystical experiences. My deepest scar from this entire ordeal is my loss of trust in him. I fell in love with Cassady so hard that I trusted him in every way without question. I recently gave him my bank account number, was ready to share a house with him, and was just about to sign him up for a cell phone on my account. Apparently I was completely blind with the intoxication of my devotion. Saturday night I wanted so much to be in Cassady's space that I consumed one of the almost forty tabs of acid Cass had with him this weekend. I have never done anything but smoke pot on occasion, and use ecstasy from time to time (my first e-trip was in November of last year). This was a major step for me, and I only took it to be with the man I loved so deeply. Not only did Cass exceed the amount of chemical I consumed by at least 400%, he was really nowhere to be found all night. Apparently, Greg has been dropping acid for quite some time. This is yet one more "connection" Cass and Greg share that I do not. Everywhere Cass was, there was Greg. I felt as if I was watching a boy and his puppy all weekend. Greg actually snapped at me, calling me "pissy" and "difficult" during what I thought was a polite, friendly conversation about "natural vs. electric light" at these raves. I found out Sunday morning that Cassady had gotten sick and threw up. I would expect that when one gets sick, they would seek comfort from the one that loves them and will care for them. Cass stayed with Greg during that ordeal rather than returning to camp or seeking the comfort of my arms. My jealousy of Greg combined with the dark effect of the LSD made me deeply evaluate where our relationship was. Even as we were leaving the event, while bathing in the river just off the road to the campground, there was Greg, once again in Cass' arms, being cuddled, coddled, massaged and loved, a place I was absent from almost the entire weekend (except for the fuck in the garden Friday morning). The final straw was Monday morning. Already filled with resentment from the lack of attention I was afforded all weekend by the person who was supposedly my "boyfriend", I was furious to find Cassady's arm wrapped tightly around Greg's waist as I laid there in the same bed. I immediately removed the necklace Cass gave me, placed it under the pillow and went to finish my slumbers in my van. I thought by writing all this down I would feel relief. Instead, I feel even more angry now. Cass came out to the van to find out why I took the necklace off. I told him how I felt. He said nothing in his defense. All he did say was "I have to pee" and left. I let almost 2 hours pass before I went into the house. There was Cass, in the kitchen, boiling water for coffee. "Boy, that was a long pee" I said. No response. I held up my end of a promise I made to him earlier on. We spent the next four hours packing all his belongings into my van so I can store them for him until he moves to LA in October. He will not get that cell phone from my account, nor will we be living together. I no longer trust that Cass has the ability to really follow through with his plans, or to commit to just one thing in his life. I love him, but I cannot allow myself to exist blind in that love. (7 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, August 10th, 2000
11:59 pm	Small circles... My roommate Steve is making his final preparations to move to San Francisco now. Becasue the storage company is moving his pods tonight, I helped him with some of his belongings this morning. When we got back home, I let him take a shower first (he has no hair and I have lots). I hopped onto IRC's EfNET servers, something I rarely do, and joined the #GayRaver channel. There I met RaverKid, a/k/a Andrew. Apparently, Andrew and his husband Boo (a/k/a Michael) had started a mission to find Mary around midnight, and by 10:00 AM had still not located her. He put out a public message in the channel, asking if anyone was in LA. When I replied that I was, he asked if I know where he could find Mary. I haven't spent money to see Mary since 1982. I think what was called a quarter back then actually cost $25. I mentioned that I too had been looking for Mary (in preparation for FUSION), and that if he found her, to let me know. To shorten this up a bit, we agreed to go 75-25 split on $40. When I told Caeriel about this guy just before I left for work, he mentioned that he too had the same conversation with Andrew 8 hours ago in the chat area of GAY.com. Small, small circles... I met Andrew and his husband Michael just before going to work. I invited them to join me on my trip to the FUSION festival next weekend. They both seem like really nice people, and I hope to extend our new found friendship in the months ahead. After work I drove straight to the Lake Shrine SRF temple in Pacific Palisades. I attended 8:00 healing service as I normally do, deep in meditation (as deep as I can get right now) throughout most of the service. I didn't notice that right behind me sat Greg, Cassady's good friend from Santa Monica. I first saw him tonight on my way out of the temple space in the foyer area. We chatted a bit in the bookstore, then went on a little adventure ride to Van Nuys in search of Daddy's Pipes on Ventura Blvd. On the way there we discussed, for the first time, my idea of making a trance remix of the Beatles' All You Need Is Love; he wasn't particularly interested in the project himself due to lack of equipment at his disposal. On the way back, I made sure that he knew that he was welcome in my (and soon to be Caeriel and Cassady's) home any time. Although we didn't get off on the right foot together when we first met, I really like him, and I hope we can become good friends in the future. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 9th, 2000
10:55 pm	Good night Cassady. I love you. (Comment on this)
9:39 am	How small our circles be... I save all my email correspondence. Yes, all of them. Thousands upon thousands of messages from everywhere in the world dating as far back as 1997. While I was doing a bit of filing this morning, attempting to clean out the 170 messages in my inbox, I had the need to drop something in the "Longhair Net Strangers" folder. Just above the folder I dropped this one message into, I noticed a folder named Caereiel (Ocean). I'll stop here for a second and change gears... I am now involved with Cassaday in what I hope will become a long term relationship. Cass (a/k/a Merlen) and I met at the end of June during SF Pride by pure chance. He caught my eye, I took a picture, gave him my email address, and the rest just happened from there. Cassady will be moving down to Los Angeles in October. The plan is that one of his closest friends and I will rent a 3 bedroom house ASAP, and that he will take the 3rd room when he gets here. Who is that close friend of his? Dognut is this longhair hippie Canadian who started, many years ago, a web page for Gay and Bi longhair men's pictures and profiles. There have, for as long as I've been posted there, anywhere from 80 to 400 men listed there, all showing off their beautiful flowing locks. I have, on occasion, sent messages to about a dozen of those men over time that for some reason either caught my eye or had something in their profile that made me interested in maintaining correspondence. One such person lived in North Carolina and went by the name Ocean. He and I traded a few very pleasant emails back in January 1999, and like most internet introductions, eventually stopped (due to my inability to keep track most likely). Now, back to the new house... It turns out that Cassady's best friend, who is currently sleeping on my couch in my present apartment (until we get this house), is the very same Ocean I met online almost two years ago. I was so excited that I woke him from his slumbers in excitement before 9:00 AM. (I promise I won't do that again... I was just a little over excited. Sorry Caeriel). And the circles get smaller and smaller......... (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 8th, 2000
9:06 am	Divine Visions I just had the most incredible dream. Have you ever seen the film Beetlejuice? Bring yourself to the scene where the dead couple are brought to the administrative offices of the afterlife. Now, remove the camp, the twisted Tim Burton like scenery and the silliness... that's where I was, in a sense. The following are probably not in order, and there were more details, but I will highlight what I remember. First was mom. She left this earth over 2 years ago. Today is one day before what would have been her 75th birthday. From the day she died, I have had dreams that have included her image, but never did we speak, nor ever did hear her say anything at all. Today was different. We strolled briefly outside the apartment building she had occupied in Fall River from 1953 to 1998. I asked her "why here", and she replied, not in the voice I knew here on earth, but in a much smoother, more learned manner, "I had to be here to make sure certain events happened." Knowing that we were in the "in-between" place, I asked what her last incarnation was. When she replied, she told me that that incarnation's birth year was 2015. I was initially puzzled to hear that her previous incarnation happened 90 years AFTER the one I knew, but as dreams go, I quickly understood that time is not linear outside our physical reality. I felt nothing but love and peace in her presence. I was then guided by someone else to an open area where many people gathered. I was advised not to pay attention to the children begging for my attention (strange thing), and that I should be concentrating on the demonstration I was about to witness. We approached a band of fyre dancers that were in the process of cavorting, laughing and practicing their craft. They then gathered in a tight cluster and laid themselves on a railroad track. Their bodies were so tightly packed in that they no longer resembled individuals. The train came speeding around a bend and completely obliterated the pile of bodies leaving no trace. Suddenly, the world stopped and immediately the train reversed direction, along with everything else in this space. Suddenly, I was once again looking at the pile of unscathed bodies all tightly joined on the track. The second time the train came and did the same thing, and once again everything reversed and started for a third time. This time though, I realized that the first two runs were simply practice. As the train approached the mass, they used their collective meditative powers to not only stop the train, but to push it off the track just inches from their location. The train crumbled into a useless pile of scrap right before my and everyone else's eyes. Somewhere in the dream I was in a hotel in a somewhat urban area. Not unclean or noisy, I just knew I was in a city of some sort. In the lobby of this hotel I ran into what seemed like an elderly woman. She gave me some advice that I took very seriously in the dream, but right now I do not recall what exactly it was that she had to say to me. I had been given few instructions about what to do while I was at the hotel. The one thing I recall was the telephone. I was given a four digit number to call should I need assistance with ANYTHING, not just towels or room service. The person I was with, who appeared in the form of my current roommate, was given a shorter number to dial. It seems that he was a bit more "elevated" in the ranks where we were, and the smaller number was some indication that the person he would call when in need was a bit more experienced and evolved themselves. At the end of the dream, just before Caeriel woke me up, this "companion" person was given instructions to simply call out a name (no phone needed), and within seconds, that person appeared, at his service. When relaying this information to Caeriel, I began to shake a little. While guiding him to the hotel where he needed to drop of his rental car, tears formed in my eyes. For some reason, I feel as if I've been given a rare opportunity and privilege to glimpse at something that few get to see until they actually get there. The experience has had a very humbling effect on me. I give thanks to the Divine Mother for bringing me these visions last night. Om. (Comment on this)
Monday, August 7th, 2000
8:14 pm	The house.. revisited. As an update, I guess I should mention that the house is once again a go. Yes, my faith in Merlen's ability to carry through and actually be here in October had been shaken over the whole Greg thing. Something just wasn't right. But, after reading an email from Caeriel urging me to take the house (pointing out all the good features of the family we could build there), and talking with Merlen about our MONOGAMOUS future together, we decided to meet the landlord after all and follow through with it. Our contingency plan is to take a fourth roommate in the beginning while Merlen is still in Oakland, and either make the transition when he gets here, or actually live four in the house, reducing our share of the rent dramatically. I have not heard back from the owner yet as to whether or not we've been approved (credit wise), so if you read this, say a prayer for us. (Comment on this)
2:05 pm	The house My angels are wonderful!!! My head finally cleared about 30 minutes before I went to pick Merlen up at Greg's. It's not our relationship that's not going to work, but rather the house! Even though the house itself is PERFECT in many ways, it is simply not the right time to make this comittment. Merlen and I will work on our relationship slowly and steadily from here, from the 400 mile distance that lie between us. When the time is right, our spaces will join and become one, but just not right now. Om. (Comment on this)
12:37 pm	Not so magik after all... The dessert gathering never happened. Perfect!! What a great opportunity to wake up in my new man's arms at the minute his body turns 33 years old. That didn't happen either. Friday night I met one of Merlen's circle of friends. Everyone seemed very nice, but it felt as if each new contact I made was made through an invisible brick wall. I have always perceived myself as very approachable and friendly, open to making friends with any willing person. Friday was weird, as if there was a sign on me that read "DANGER: Keep your distance." Merlen was of course soaking in the attention... he has been photographed many times (justifiably so), and the host of the party had a couple of his images on display in his artist loft across the street. I went to look, but Merlen was also with his other "boyfriend" Greg, so his attention was very divided. I felt very lonely that night. Saturday we attempted to attend the longhair brunch in Hollywood. Because the food was not breakfast quality, Merlen, myself and Merlen's friend Caeriel (the 3rd member of the house sharing that will take place very soon) all went for a bite in Venice. We later stopped by the house in "Beverly Hills Adjacent" so I could introduce them to their new home. We are giving the landlord copies of our IDs today. Saturday night was a "night in"... well I thought so in the beginning. Merlen is studying shiatsu and needs test subjects. He also expressed an interest in watching Yellow Submarine with me. The three of us sat through Witches of Eastwick, then a couple of WB cartoons on laser disc. The natives then got restless and headed to an art show around 9:00 and didn't return until after 2. Again feeling lonely, I decided trancing and meditation would fill my void. I ended up calling out to Merlen who, with Caeriel, appeared in the middle of my meditations. Merlen was tired and had no intention of watching Yellow Submarine OR waking up with me for his birthday OR giving me that shiatsu treatment. I stayed up, alone (Caeriel was on the computer) until 5AM while Merlen slept. In my restlessness and slight frustration, I left and drove down to the oceanside in Santa Monica. A chunky and very aggressive man approached me for sex. I then sat, perched in a tree limb that created a cradle just inches from the ground, and watched the sun rise over the tall beachfront Santa Monica architecture. Still restless, I drove to the SRF temple and attended 9:00 AM services, returning home at 10:30. With a smile I cooked french toast and sweet potato home fries for the boys. Merlen and I fucked (now the 3rd time since he's been here) in the bedroom, then got ready for the party that night. I did get a very lovely shiatsu treatment after fucking and before leaving, but it seemed a bit rushed. We got to Silver Lake a couple of hours before sundown. I enjoyed re-meeting all the guys I met on Friday night (plus a few new ones), especially our most congenial hosts. Merlen and Greg were once again in the same space, so my outpouring of affection for Merlen again needed to be curtailed. The food and the company was very nice... the fyre dancing in honor of Merlen's 33rd birthday was spectacular! But as the evening progressed, I once again found myself outside of the communing. It was getting late... past 1:00 AM. Merlen was downstairs giving Caeriel the full one hour shiatsu he promised him earlier in the weekend. Our hosts, with a very sweet soul named Christian, were, for lack of a more appropriate term, seducing Greg, Merlen's other boyfriend, while I sat alone on the couch, observing from a distance. The four of them called down to Merlen and Caeriel so they too could join in on the "seduction", but they were pre-occupied. For the third time this weekend, I again felt alone, cast to the side to play only as an observer and not a participant. I now sit here at the computer, trying to find Greg's phone number so I can call out to Merlen, hoping to share some time alone with him before he get on the plane tonight. I tried taking a bath using the special blend of herbs and botanicals Merlen prepared for the two of us (yes, we were supposed to bathe together, but that hasn't happened either), but quicly got frustrated, sitting there all alone. It's 12:30 PM now, and Merlen has not returned from Greg's yet. He said he would be here by 11:00, then take the bus to the corner of Santa Monica and LaBrea from here. He has not called to tell me otherwise. It seems, although I thought I was going to discover a whole new chapter in my life centering around a very special someone, I am instead very confused, not knowing who to talk to or how to deal with the profoundly deep emotions I feel for Merlen. I'm really deep in love, and I'm afraid, from all the signs I've been getting this weekend, it's not going to work. This has got to be one of the happiest, saddest and most confusing times I've ever experienced simultaneously in my life. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 2nd, 2000
11:50 am	the magik of merlen i am picking up cassady (a/k/a merlen) at the Burbank airport tomorrow after work. we will celebrate his 33rd birthday together at a gathering in the dessert. my heart pounds with anticipation. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 1st, 2000
2:38 pm	And on the seventh day... NOT The Lucite ring I had in my right nipple snapped in half Saturday afternoon, and the remaining piece fell out on the dance floor about 12 hours prior to my return to Troy's. In need of something to prevent the hole from closing, I happened across the House of Trance on St. Marks' Place (8th St off 1st Ave) in my search for a piercing studio. On the door was a flyer for GOA GIL's next outdoor event. My very first exposure to anything that resembled a rave-like event was GIL's weekend at Area 101 in the Redwoods near Laytonville CA in May. That single event completely changed the direction of my life, setting me on a spiritual path like I never thought possible. Unfortunately, my personal finances will prevent me from attending this next event because of it's Upstate New York location. In addition, it's happening the same weekend EYEPHUNK's FUSION festival is going down near San Francisco. While at FUSION, I will certainly try and channel some of the energy from GIL's event my way, and project the happy west coast vibes over their way. Troy and Leonard's company had arrived before I did. "Look what the cat dragged in" greeted me at the door while Troy's guests, some from New Jersey and some from eastern Quebec Province, politely smiled. I was a bit scattered as I tried to assemble myself for the four-hour boat ride I was about to embark upon in just two short hours. I chatted with Mark (my ex-husband in Rhode Island) on the phone for a while. He was planning on joining us Sunday but got swept away in the weekend locally. Glen and his boyfriend arrived at 5:00, and we all left an hour later. Pier 40, where the boat was loading, was just southwest of the end of Christopher Street. I would be remiss if I didn't mention the very interesting character I witnessed standing near his bicycle. He stood there, meticulously filing his nine-inch fingernails, carefully observing us one by one file up the gangway. The nylon stocking he had wrapped tightly around his skull prevented me from identifying the texture of length of his hair. He appeared to be sporting black eyeliner, and his loosely wrapped garments flowed in the evening breeze. I smiled at him from the upper deck of the boat, and thought I witnessed a bit of a twinkle in his eye just beyond his somewhat larger-than usual and rather bumpy nose as the ship slowly peeled itself from the dock. The cruise/tea dance was very pleasant, taking us by Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, out around Battery Park, under the Brooklyn Bridge then back again along the southern and western Manhattan shoreline, and back to Pier 40, where we had departed from 3 hours earlier. The sound system was modest, the DJ was good, the buffet-style pasta and salad was OK and the $4.00 coca-cola was way too overpriced. The relatively small crowd disembarked rather quickly as the music lowered and the light became brighter and brighter. I decided to take the subway up to Times Square from the Village, a mistake I will not repeat. Little did I know that the persistent heat and humidity above does not let the stench and overall grossness of the subway system to escape. I made it to Troy's at 11:00, and proceeded back to the Fitzpatrick Grand Central for another two nights there. (Comment on this)
1:37 pm	New York Party Boy - day two Our second long party night was to begin with meeting another new Internet longhair that I had made contact with weeks before. Troy, Leonard and myself cabbed it up to 96th and Broadway to meet Robert at Carmine's, a huge and apparently very popular Italian family-style restaurant. We were inside for only 60 seconds when Leonard pointed out that the decibel level was enough to cause semi-permanent hearing loss in less than 15 minutes. Robert had just arrived at the curb as we were exiting the ruckus behind us. We all walked up another ten blocks to a much quieter spot and enjoyed a lovely Italian meal. We then all walked back to Robert's more than fabulous apartment, complete with brick walls, a fireplace and a music studio, that he shares with his long time partner. The three of us left Robert (he dislikes "gay discos") and cabbed it down to Chelsea to meet up with Glen and his new boyfriend at a local watering hole. We stayed only long enough for me to freshen up and have some butterscotch in the boy's room. We then walked down to The Roxy for yet another long night of great music and lots of dancing. This time, though, the BOYS were out!! Like the absent minded doof that I can be sometimes, I neglected to bring my John Blair card to New York with me? the only city you can use a John Blair card in. We tried the old switch-a-roo, but the rather nasty woman at the window had marked Troy's card with a black marker. I got nabbed as a fraud and had to pay the full $25 cover charge, more than twice the $12 charge a card-carrying John Blair member has to pay. I was more than disappointed, but soon got over the downer as I let the music penetrate my being. For the first half hour, the four of us sat on one of the large sofas in the lounge that, for all intents and purposes, is actually part of the dance floor. The rhythms began their magic, and I was up on the floor, spinning the purple and pink glow sticks by midnight. Our circle shared some ganja treats while on the floor throughout the evening, and Leonard returned home at his usual 2:30 hour. For some reason I had a somewhat strange affair with the bass bottom cabinets off to the back of the dance floor. Their vibrations were enormously attractive, and I spent most of the evening communing there with it and the other dancing spirits that found a similar attraction there. I danced a great portion of the night away with one such spirit who's name I cannot recall. All I know is that we made each other very happy while we twirled and gyrated to the rhythms. Another mysterious creature appeared in my sphere of consciousness around 5:30 in search of a roll. I brought one extra piece of butterscotch candy for just such an occasion. We proceeded to the men's room together to get some water and to partake. Once hydrated, we shared a bit of his quite special ganja treat. The two of us returned to the bass bottoms, just in time to say goodbye to the happy spirit I had danced so long with earlier that morning, and to occasionally converse with the other three members of my party who apparently desired the company of the boys in the middle of the floor over the deep vibrations of the loudspeaker I was comfortably perched upon. As 7:00 passed, my new friend invited Troy and I to join him, his cousin (visiting from Miami) and her boyfriend for more ganja treats at his apartment in Alphabet City. We gratefully accepted his invitation, descended the metal fire escape used as the official Club Roxy exit into the once again soupy morning air, and grabbed a cab to Avenue C. I had every intention of attending services at the New York Self Realization Center at 10:00 AM. What I didn't count on was the exhaustion to settle in so fast. We all had but one serving of his treat, and we all immediately fell victim to the physical reality of two nights of marathon style dancing. Troy left at 8:30 knowing that Leonard would be concerned if he did not return home soon. I stayed behind, thinking I would crach for an hour and go to services from there. We climbed the ladder to his elevated bunk and romanced ourselves to sleep. My eyes re-opened at 3:15, long after everyone at SRF had gone home. I immediately called Troy and Leonard to let them know I was alright and that I would be at their place by 4:15. (Comment on this)
12:35 pm	Sasha and Digweed - reprise I migrated my belongings to my new digs at Troy and Leonard's apartment high on the 14th floor in Hell's Kitchen, overlooking the Amtrak right-of-way directly below and the Hudson River just to the west. Troy was still working, and contemplating my very aggressive nighttime schedule this weekend, I crashed on the couch while Leonard finished his household chores and various errands. An hour or so after Troy arrived home, all three of us enjoyed yet another perfect meal prepared by Leonard: chicken burritos and guacamole? way too much for any of us to finish in one sitting. Since Twilo usually doesn't get busy until 2:30 and is known to charge a higher cover charge after 1:00 AM, Troy and I left the apartment around 12:10. We arrived just in time to get in the already long line that filled the sidewalk to capacity. We were in the door by 12:45, but because of the celebrity DJs at the tables, the cover charge turned out to be a rather steep $35. I had heard John Digweed and his apprentice-now-pro DJ Sasha tear up the crowd just four weeks earlier in Los Angeles, so I knew the higher-than-normal price was somewhat justified. My pure from last weekend broke somewhere in transit. The portion that was available to me at Troy's before we left was now at work. Troy and I danced near the elevated booth where the masters were at work, spinning their magic for the masses. The venue sold out long before 3:30 AM, the time it usually fills up. It turned out that the crowd was more heterosexual than I am accustomed to. Even though their show at the Shrine last month was very hetero-centric, the LA crowd seemed much more willing to smile back when you smiled at them. In general, the guys here in NY looked as if they would tear your face off if you looked at them just a little too long. The huge crowd made it very hot on the floor, so I retired to the chill space upstairs around 3:00. I sat with two straight guys to my right, and a hetero couple to my left. I am forever making offerings to my fellow partiers, so the breath mints made their rounds. So appreciative were the guys to my right that they offered me a cigarette in exchange. I have not smoked a cigarette in over 15 years. I refused at first, but something in me wanted to experience the sensation again. That lovely Asian man supplied me with that first, then three more cigarettes throughout the evening, each one of them making my heart race, my head light and my senses thrilled. Not in that space now, I do not crave tobacco? it was definitely one of those one time things that, at that moment, I wanted and experienced. Above my shoulder sat a very attractive man in his mid-twenties named Tim. We began conversing once he occupied the space between the cigarette offering Asian guy and myself. When I told him I lived in LA, he asked about spotting celebrities. I told him that the only famous person I would be weak around is Sir Paul McCartney. Tim laughed hardily as he leaned over and told me that he's Liverpudlian. Being a tremendous Beatles fan myself, our conversation went on for quite some time. It was interrupted by a somewhat perturbed and very sweaty Troy, who had apparently been waiting for me on the dance floor for over an hour. We both returned to the floor, dancing until 8:15 AM. The air was still thick and heavy outside. The 100% humidity, heavy overcast and occasional showers had now been going on since Tuesday. It made for a very dreary Seattle-like atmosphere. A quick cab ride got us to Troy's place by 8:30. I crashed before 9:00 AM, waking at 1:00 to grab a bite from the kitchen. I finished my cheese-on-toast sandwich and chocolate chip cookies in Troy and Leonard's company (I must have woken them with the toaster) then went back to sleep until almost 4:30. (Comment on this)
11:34 am	Business in the Apple Getting to Manhattan from either of the NYC airports is a bitch no matter how it's done. We hopped in the back of the black Town Car that just so happened to be on the curb where we thought a yellow cab would be. Of course the driver was happy to risk the fine for illegally soliciting passengers without an appointment and take us into the city, knowing that our $40 was much better than a wasted fare-less ride back from where he came from. The rain that had soaked the roads for the past 24 hours had slowed the evening crawl even more than usual. An hour later we arrived at the Fitzpatrick Grand Central, a cute ten story Irish hotel where one of my business partner's good friend has been working for many years. The three of us met my friend Xavier for dinner in the hotel restaurant after we freshened up a bit. Xavier spent the night in my room; this was the "night alone" he and I spoke about since we started communicating via the Internet after we met in Los Angeles last year. Thursday went without a hitch, meeting with the key players in our largest current project. Everyone we met was friendly and very receptive. We even got to check out the operation's new (and currently very modest) office space. After resting up a bit Michael arrived at my hotel room door. He just recently joined the SoCal Queer Longhair club on Yahoo (even though he lives in Manhattan) and via email last week, we decided to meet while I was in town. After chatting and kissing for a short time, we grabbed a cab to 3rd St. and Avenue A. We tried in vain to find the Starlight Lounge, the live music club that he had heard was somewhere near that intersection on the lower east side, so we settled on dinner at a great Ukranian spot on First Avenue. Conversation flowed freely over the two hours we spent picking at our blueberry perogis. Now almost midnight and knowing we both have to work the next day, we grabbed another cab and retired to my room at the hotel. Friday's brief meeting at 10:00 AM was neither hot nor cold. It ended almost as quickly at it began with little but introductions getting accomplished. Now not on duty again until Monday morning at 11:00, I was free to begin my three day partying binge with my longhair friend Troy and our collection of friends. (Comment on this)
Monday, July 24th, 2000
10:43 am	San Diego Pride It felt as if I was on a mini tour of California this weekend. I left the Lake Elsinore area, where the Small World rave took place, at 7:30 AM and headed down the 15 freeway to San Diego to take part in the tail end of their Pride festivities. A longhair brunch had been called by Madoc for 10:00 AM at The Mission restaurant in the North Park neighborhood. A healthy group of four longhair men, one longhair m2f transgender and one fabulous bisexual dominatrix hairdresser showed up. After brunch I joined my new longhair friend (Gary) from LA for a little shopping and haircutting expedition. Newly trimmed and ready for the world, we headed for the "pink" side of Balboa Park. By now my physical exhaustion began to become apparent. I laid the movers' blanket I brought with me out on the lawn and vegetated, observing the constant flow of interesting folks coming and to and from the festivities. My buddy Jon was in town from San Francisco to perform with his band Pansy Division. He joined us on the blanket a at around 3:30 and slept in my arms for about an hour. Even though George, a friend of my cousin whom I haven't seen in 18 years was inside selling water, I had no desire to have $12 extorted from me at the gate so I can be bombarded with vendors trying to sell me rainbow clad dog collars. PD wouldn't be on stage until 8:15 anyhow, so I had plenty of time to let the gate watchers get tired of charging the unreasonable entrance fee. Jon could have gotten me in on his guest list anyhow. I was trying to connect with a few of the new friends that I had met at the rave the night before to see the movie Groove, but the hookup never materialized. Instead I stayed and experienced what must have been my tenth Pansy Division show; I love that band! I took off at 8:45, not quite at the end of their set, to not only beat the traffic, but to hook up one more time before heading home with my new friend Steve at a Starbucks off the 15 freeway. I luckily got there 2 minutes before they locked the door and scored a grande iced coffee from the eager-to-get-home clerk. Steve showed up with a friend a few minutes later, once again bearing butterscotch, my favorite candy. (Comment on this)
9:42 am	A night with the kids (It's A Small World After All) I didn't get to take the nap I thought I was going to be able to take between the airport and the event at 7:00. I got home in just enough time to shower, read my email, iron my clothes and get out of the house. My business partner had purchased four tickets to a benefit at Bergamot Station in Santa Monica for the local free clinic. I got there around 8:00, all tucked into some dress pants, dress shoes, jacket and tie. We milled around, sampling the food and drink while making idle chit-chat with strange women about the traffic conditions in West Hollywood. Knowing I wanted to be at the It's a Small World rave about 90 minutes south before midnight, I excused myself around 9:30. I had heard about Small World from the Southern California Rave mailing list, whose members call themselves scrubbers. I reached the parking area just off a short dirt road at 11:45. Luckily, as I walked away from my car, there was a pickup truck just about to ascend the half-mile dirt-road incline to the abandoned house that scrubber James (BabyDreamRaver) had so diligently worked on for weeks before this night. Also lucky for me was meeting scrubber Steven (KCobain227) who was nice enough to hook me up with some butterscotch candy :-) The view from the house at the top of the hill was really nice. The half moon, orange at first, was majestically keeping court over the spread of the city lights below. I was a little concerned when I got out of the pickup truck bed and heard the rowdy yowls of beer drinking adolescent males. Even the music coming from the house was a bit too urban for my liking, but things slowly changed for the better. James had prearranged for all the scrubbers to meet at his tent at midnight. I found James at 12:05, but no one else from the list had gathered yet. I did get to meet one of James' close friends, a young high school student with a very slight build. I became a bit concerned with him for a while - it seems he had ingested a new mixture of chemical and wasn't prepared for the reaction his body and mind took to them. James and I watched him throughout the night, making sure he was drinking water and that he didn't do anything foolish. Throughout the night I took note of how much younger than I almost everyone there was. This wasn't much of a concern for me, knowing and abiding by the raver's PLUR creed: Peace, Love, Understanding and Respect. I did fear though that these kids (and yes, most were under 21) would have an issue with the presence of a 34 year old. One 26 year old guy, whom I let borrow my photon lights for a considerable amount of time, thanked me for relieving him of the "grandfather" duties he was so accustomed to at these parties. The music improved by 2:00 AM and kept going strong until 6:30. Everyone I met and communed with was really nice, and I made a few new young friends. It was refreshing to talk with and get insight from members of the generation that's following on the heels of the generation I'm existing in. By the way Laurence, if you're reading this, you should really work on that kissing issue. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
8:49 am	'All-Ways Tribal' Weekdays seem relatively mundane compared to my weekends lately. That wasn't always the case. I received an email on Monday that read: 'ALL-WAYS TRIBAL' (A Ritual Working Ceremony) Traditional Tatooing -High Gauge Piercing- Organic Music Kaos Magick - Belly Dancing - Fyre Dancing/Eating Tarot Reading w/Wing & Dawn of Aquarius Mayan Astrology w/William DreamStar & Spontaneous Ritual Whateva's AElphs & Faeries & Goblins & Dragons & Witches & Wizards Magicians & Mind & Sorcery & Sorcerers & Brothers & All that dwell outwithin, come, and let us spin the Vortex of Inner Transformation en Outter Mutation -- through each other we dissolve the humanalien malevolence, for all desire is illusion bound to the wheel of time. Bring organic fruit and red wine Bring one, two or more candles (w/o religious iconography) as an offering to The House of Tara and as a Blessing for the Serpent Gods & Goddesses within you ... Drums, flutes, pipes, all organic instruments wellcome ... Evening: Friday July 21st, 2000 Time: 830 pm - ???? ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY NO ALCOHOL (e.g. beer, liquor) REMEMBER AND RESPECT This is a Private/Invite who you know 'party' for family, friends, and interstellar freakazoidoids, please do not bring your 'famefuckerfriends' ... peace and much love. your in waking, smelly aelph I knew I needed to meet with friends on business up in San Francisco some time soon, so I figured a quick one-day trip would accomplish two things. It accomplished so much more than I had ever anticipated. I got to LAX in plenty of time to catch my 2:30 flght to SFO. A heavy fog over the SF Bay kept us grounded in LA until 3:45. Upon arrival, based upon the recommendation of a longhair friend of mine (who will remain Pasha nameless right now), I decided to switch my normal routine of taking the SAMTRANS bus and opted for the shuttle to the CALTRAIN commuter rail station... MISTAKE! I fianlly arrived in downtown San Francisco around 6:30. It took me almost as long as it takes to drive to SF from LA this time. Dinner with Steven and Greg (friends and business associates) went very well; I love those guys! While waiting for the train into town from the airport, I called about 6 friends to see if any of them wanted to attend the party with me that evening. Logos and Jon called back, both declining my invite. I arrived at the party around 9:30. At the top of the staircase, straight ahead was a candlelit altar. The hallway extended forward just to the right of the altar. There was much commotion going on; bright lights and a video camera in the kitchen at the end of the hallway; drumming and digeree doo music coming from the parlor; two belly dancers getting dressed in the bathroom; various interesting folk milling around on the staircase landing. I gave my offering of tea-light candles and 5 cobalt glass holders to the resident of the apartment; she seemed very grateful. I entered the parlor just in time for the belly dancer performance. There seemed to be a large number of people squeezed into this typically small space, but never did it seem uncomfortable. Finally I spotted the "aelph" who invited me. Cassady had my email because I had photographed him at SF Pride this year, and I gave it to him so I could forward him copies. He was surprised to learn that his invitation was sent to a Los Angeles resident. Funny how the universe makes paths cross the way it does. You see, Cassady has plans to move to LA in two months. Being a busy bee party organizer, he flittered away for a while while I took some photographs and made some new friends. One of these new friends, Caeriel, is also planning to move to Los Angeles. Another of these new friends already lives in Santa Monica. Both of them, it turns out, are staying at Cassady's place in Oakland. Caeriel and I spoke briefly about him moving into the room my current roommate is vacating soon when he moves up to SF. Also, I've been entertaining leaving my current space in lieu of more affordable accomodations further inland. The seed has now been planted. As soon as I get back from New York, I will be seeking a three bedroom place somewhere in Sliverlake, or just south of Melrose and east of Fairfax, or somewhere close to the Miracle Mile area for myself, Caeriel and Cassady. Cassady not only had the bridge of his nose pierced that night, but he also got the tattoos on the tops of both feet enhanced. The artist used traditional tribal inking tools (two sticks, one with a needle strapped to the end) which required that someone stretch the skin back. While I was pulling the skin back on Cassady's foot, I asked him if he knew where I could stay that night. Much to my best friend Michael's dismay, I don't always plan for accommodation in advance if I know there may be alternatives available. At first Cassady said I should stay at the apartment where we were, but then changed his mind and brought me to his place in Oakland. I was offered the couch there but ended up on the floor when someone else claimed the sofa as theirs at around 2:30 AM. I found myself lying on the floor off to the side of Cassady's bed, admiring his presence as muted sunlight broke through the heavily draped Bay-facing bedroom window. I woke him at 8:30 to announce my departure; we kissed until almost 9:00. Had it not been for my PacBell employee friend Mark, my company would not be using the DSL service today that we had been promised a month earlier. After missing two busses in Oakland and getting kicked off one of them for not having the right change, I finally met him for breakfast at Sparky's on Church a little after 11:00. He loved the flowers. Even though Mark got me to SFO in plenty of time to catch my return flight, it too was grounded for almost an hour, putting me back in Los Angeles at 3:30. I must remember to pray to the transportaion goddess before leaving next time! (Comment on this)
Monday, July 17th, 2000
4:40 pm	Weekend wrapup Thursday night... attended prayer service at the Lake Shrine. Friday night... still not feeling 100%, fell asleep on the couch after looking at the prints I had ordered from ofoto of the SOULSPRING gathering. Stephano woke me up at 10:20 with a phone call; I was supposed to be at his place an hour earlier. OOPS!! I got there by 11:00, and then we headed to the Biltmore hotel downtown for a free overnight stay. We went 'cause it was closer to Union station than either of our apartments. Lovely fruit basket! Saturday morning... we got on the train to San Diego at 7:15, transferred to the Blue Line trolley at the Santa Fe Station and arrived in Tijuana at 11:00. Funny honor system on the San Diego transit system - you buy the tickets at a vending machine and no one ever takes them from you. Tijuana... we went in, bought and left. Got delayed 45 minutes in the line at the border headed back into the States. I had to turn in an apple from the Biltmore?s fruit basket since it had crossed the border. We missed the train back to LA by 10 minutes. We ate a less than satisfying lunch at a brewery in downtown SD, then got the next train back. Over a dozen AIDS Ride folks were a bit too full of adrenaline, standing in the train aisle and singing spiritual songs. Saturday night... I got back home in time to shower and head out to some club on Sunset near the Beverly Hills city limit that I saw in a rave listing. It looked like a private club, with all these finely dressed young men and women, some eating dinner, others just sitting around at and I was dressed all wrong, in my black-light ready psychedelic shirt and my black, rubber coated Levi 505 jeans with the glow-in-the-dark PEACE iron-on patch above the back right pocket. I left after milking my $4.00 coke for 20 minutes. Went home feeling a bit down, reflecting on how powerful the past three weekends had been for me and how lonely I felt at that particular point in time. I flirted with the idea of going to Club Giant, but thought better of it knowing the low percentage of other gay guys there. Went home and cruised AOL for a while and almost hooked up, but decided to call it a night at midnight. Sunday... attended 9:00 AM service at the Lake Shrine. Excelent service on the ways to bring God into your life, and about motivation. I finally submitted the form for the SRF weekly lessons! I didn?t want to drive to or spend money at the longhair brunch, so I drove home. Bill called not 5 minutes after I got in saying no one had showed up for the brunch. I invited them over, then cooked eggs, potato and toast for him, Robert and myself. Got on my bike at 2:20 and rode back to the Lake Shrine for the Brazilian guitarist concert I had purchased two $25 tickets for. Dennis got sick and couldn?t show. I invited a few other people to go, but only one, my friend Andy that I met online, joined me there. He ended up buying his own ticket, so I asked a staff member if I could swap the unused ticket out for a ticket to the 50 year celebration in August. The concert was really good! Got a ride back to my place in Andy?s pickup truck. I cooked dinner for the two of us. After he left, I made a CD with all the spiritually based Beatles songs I knew of, then fell asleep on the couch. Back to work! (Comment on this)