Whoa...way too long since I've last written. I finally got my lube - Wet's mango scented/flavored. Yum!

They moved Good Vibrations. It's now near the corner of 17th and Valencia. The new facility is awesome, so much more room. They even have lovely display cases for their "history of the vibrator" exhibit. It's about time those appliances get the respect they deserved.....

I didn't buy a new toy, not yet. I embarrassed myself by handling one a little too longingly. I just love the new textures...what will science come up with next? There was a cute transgender at the cashier's counter. She was just a little flirty. That reminded me that Trannyfest was on at the Rio, around the corner, so I headed out there to buy a ticket for the 8-10 slot. That showing was also a fundraiser for Gwen Araujo's family.

I stayed home on Monday to try and recover from this cough. I was lucky enough to win $50 in the football pool at M's bar. That made the week easier to handle, since I wouldn't get paid until this weekend.

That made for a short work week, which is so frustrating. It seems everybody's computer went into meltdown this week, including mine at home! Combining that with the monthly list of critical Microsoft patches, and there wasn't much time to do anything creative, which was really frustrating. I've been working on a design (off and on) for the past 5 or 6 months, now that I made a personal goal of finishing it in the next month, I found myself compelled to go back to square one. . . . I hate being a perfectionist!!!!

It gets even harder when you feel like no one (really) understands or supports your vision. Our office is bitterly divided right now, and my workining on an abstract design for a new web application is angering them. They want me to do something else, anything else that seems more tangible. They want less emphasis on technology, and a greater focus on direct services to our clients. I sometimes feel like I'm a lightning rod, and the stress is starting to take its toll on me. I could have gone to work on Monday, I wasn't that sick, I just didn't want to that morning.

Oh, well, enough of the middle-class career melodrama. I just got an e-mail from I, the friend I wrote about a few days ago. Wants dinner and drinks tonight. I'm game, got no other game going.

Stopping by Diva Darlings last night, I got my favorite dancer's new number. She says we should do lunch sometime, and I find myself dreaming of a little afternoon delight. Some guy was stalking her by the mini-stage, and she dispatched me to get security to shoo him away. I've got no self-esteem - turn me on and I'll be your little slave. Afterwards, she gave me hot, wet kiss on the lips, and made me recite her number. Yeah, like my aging short-term memory, coupled with a couple of margaritas, can hold seven digits overnight. I wrote her number in my Palm PDA earlier.

Okay, enough. It is a beautiful, bright and cold San Francisco afternoon. I should get out and enjoy my day. We're finally getting a short break from the media coverage surrounding the latest Michael Jackson case. They won't file charges until after Thanksgiving. It's going to be an awful, vile case, full of sordid details that will be hard to stomach. Add to that, the possibility of additional cases, and you have to wonder how it could possibly have gone on for so long.

music:

night life:

sex life: