Little Napoleon

I've been called worse. Actually, I take it as a compliment. Afterall, he was a pint-sized powerhouse...ok...and maybe a bit of a dictator. I needed to channel my inner Napoleon during this week of work hell. I got into a yelling match with my former boss (note the "former"). He can't seem to get it that I make decisions and he does need to answer to me with regard to certain things. Like a few men I've known, his voice gets all high pitch when he's arguing and his eyes manage to both bug and squint at the same time. How's that for an image?

Anyway, a few members from the "goodfella" side of my family are visiting this weekend. Those visits usually involve high quantities of food and alcohol abuse. I may stay away. I've been behaving myself in those areas this past month. Plus, one of the "platinum" members of the family is getting hitched this September, so the hoard will be out. Weddings in my family usual consist of a 5 minute ceremony (do you? yeah, do you? yeah), followed by a 5 hour booze fest. Some past antics have included fistfights and spills on the dance floor, and it's the only time aside from visiting the Castro district on Halloween that you see the men wearing more hairspray and jewelry than the women. Ah, good times.

The devil made me do it

I drafted this post earlier in the month and went on this amazing tangent about religion only to accidentally delete that portion. So, I'll do my best to recap.




Ok, so I work in an area of downtown that some might find...challenging. I view it like an obstacle course. I get panhandled and manhandled every 1/2 block by nut jobs that the city and society has decided to discard. I walk through a wall of flies and urine to access my building and open my shutters to the beautiful downtown sun and daily sexploits of the local perves and/or junkies. Last night, some guy went nuts and decided to throw what I can only assume were rocks at the windows of the building I work in. This building is the oldest stone structure built in 1869 and is an icon of the city's history. As a native from SF and historic preservationist, I appreciate the value of such a place. So when some doped up freak decides to graffiti, piss and/or vandalize a unique piece of history, I start to lose my faith in humanity.


I once had a discussion with an unnamed family member that put me in a state of awe, pity and shame. We were watching some news program about former atheists who had a near death experience, or something along those lines, that changed their religious perspective to the total opposite extreme. My family member said something about those who don't believe in the afterlife will be without respect for human life and have no morals, yadda, yadda. I thought he was kidding and my amused disbelief turned to slight horror, than rage because that ignorant observation was not a joke. I made a point of saying that just because people don't believe they will be rewarded in the next life will not make it their mission to cause suffering in this one. What makes it acceptable for some disgusting primate of a human to rape, torture and/or kill someone, then be forgiven in the eyes of "man" or a "higher being" because they chose to accept "god" before being put out of their misery? Frankly, I come from the school of "I don't pretend to know what the fuck will happen to me when I die." I'll know..well...when I die (if I even have a sense of "awareness" or "knowing" which I doubt because of the lack of brain function and all from being..well...dead!). Many of the more popular organized religions have a way of presenting "fun" things as bad. Frankly, if I have to spend my whole life on this earth repenting bad things I haven't done or don't intend to do, or maybe do partake in but which doesn't hurt anyone else...I'd rather join the disco party in hell.

It's the wave of the future

Just returned from another mini vacation. If you've read past posts (and I know you have. Repeatedly. Because I am that damn entertaining!), you'd know that my last few attempts at taking vacations haven't been all that successful. My body seems to think that any change in environment provides license to get all fucked up, either by getting sick, the flu-or some weird ailment. For this instance, it was a last minute (literally the day I was leaving) lymphatic infection in my jaw that proceeded to my gums. Sah-weet!

So, I doped up on antibiotics, vicodine and ambisol and hit the town of Boise, Idaho. It was pretty hot, but a dry heat, which was tolerable. The hottie I was shacking up with just got there himself and so we didn't have any running water in the house until the next day. Nothing like manually flushing pee laced with antibiotics. Sah-weet! (Ok-I'm done with that term-I swear).

Boise is a quiet town (with the exception of Independence Day were locals come out in droves to blow shit up in parking lots and smoke out the tourists. I mean, there wasn't much in the way of bookstores and the library had an exclamation point at the end of the title. Literally (sorry for the pun) it was...LIBRARY! Take one part hick, two part outdoor enthusiast, a pinch of white trash and a dash of polite and you got the makings of an Idahoian. Actually, people were pretty cool, if not a little slow. We hit a bar that looked seedy and promising. The bar tendress served up some whisky and an attitude as we played pool and listened to the karaoke renderings of a bunch of country songs I'd never heard before. I perked up and sang along to Sir-Mix-A-Lot's Baby Got Back, gave a good post song hoot and pool queue stomp having felt that the singer didn't get the props she deserved for her rendition.

I went camping. Yes. Me. Camping. You can take the girl out of the city, but not the city out of the girl. But, it was beautiful. We scored an amazing site on the way up to the Sawtooth mountains. I think I did damn well considering that the last (and only) time I've camped was at the populated Russian River when I was 8 years old. I got sun poisoning and barfed hotdogs for two days. This time was definitely better as was the company. Frankly, I love nature. I just hate insects. Oh, and pissing in the woods is never fun for girls. Regardless, I know know more of what to expect so that next time, I'll be totally prepared (like a good lil boyscout). I thrive on new experiences and hope to have many more.

It's a little bittersweet to be back to the attitude, dysfunction and bustle of civilization. But now I can look forward to the next adventure in travels.