About | Flickr | Archive | E-mail

 

Please wait while my tweets load

If you can't wait - check out what I've been twittering

Personal Archives

• July 21, 2008: Four Years of Helloaaron || No. of Comments: 11
  I almost missed it! July is the anniversary month of Helloaaron.com. We’ve made it four years. One of the reasons I keep this little site around is so that I can look back and be reminded. The first “real” entry on Helloaaron.com was this one. Reading it immediately brings me back to that Fourth of July weekend and reminds me of other times since that have been similar. For example, this time in Canada (which not incidentally contains two of the same cast members — Justin and Adam). The more things change, the more they stay the same, right? While…
• July 20, 2008: Canadian Resolution || No. of Comments: 2
  I’ve been neglecting to tell you that I’ve posted more photos from Canada here. Those are all I’ve got. There was a lot of beauty in the 11 days of this Canadian vacation, from the Parc du Saguenay a few hours north of Quebec City, to the architecture of Quebec City itself, to the hours of driving with mountains flanking one side and wide-open water on the other. Looking back, though, the thing I most enjoyed was simply spending uninterrupted time with good friends. Those memories are what will carry me through the coming weeks and months of work…
• July 2, 2008: The climb || No. of Comments: 0
  The previous night’s rains skipped down the Quebec mountain by a thousand different paths. Tumbling over rocks, between trees, upon the steps on which we walked, the water laughed as it went down and we struggled up. We met frequently along the way — the water and us five travelers — the water running over the rock steps like a slinky toy, cleansing the hard-earned mud off our feet as it passed through. Up, up, up. I don’t remember ever climbing so high. Up, up, up through the Parc national du Saguenay, splashing and sweating and joking. Three kilometers…
• June 6, 2008: My Life || No. of Comments: 1
  This is what my days have become: Meetings, meetings, meetings. Often two or three at a time, forcing me to choose one and play catch up to learn what happened in the other. When do I actually get work done? I don’t know, really. In brief moments stolen between meetings, over lunch at my desk, on my couch at home with a nightcap in one hand and a laptop in the other. At least it’s color-coded nicely, don’t you think? It’s the color palette of my life. Blue are meetings I’ve setup, yellow are recurring meetings, white are random meetings,…
• April 20, 2008: Economic Stimulus || No. of Comments: 2
  Justin: Do you want to know when you’re getting your “economic stimulus” check? I can look it up. Aaron: Sure. *Justin starts clicking away on his laptop. A long pause ensues.* Aaron: The thing I most enjoy is that I’ll be taking it directly to Canada to help stimulate their economy. Justin: Me, too. Aaron: Canada thanks you and so do I, President Bush….
• April 16, 2008: 5-6-7-hold on 8 || No. of Comments: 1
  My friend Neighbor Matt and I are taking a salsa class on Wednesday evenings. It’s a community education class, which means that it was really cheap and our classmates are really diverse. There are about 15 other couples in the class… Some in their 20s, some middle-aged, some Hispanic, some black, some gray-haired ladies and one or two gray-haired men. We are the token gays. They expect us to automatically be great dancers. I know it. Because it’s a community ed class, the instructor – an attractive female in her late 20s who drives a beat up, tan, old Buick…
• February 18, 2008: Media Consumption || No. of Comments: 4
  One of my co-workers asked what television shows I watch after work. “I don’t turn on my TV,” I told her. “As soon as I get home, I go straight to iTunes and turn on some music.” “I don’t trust people like you,” she replied. “That’s weird.” Not that I’m any sort of media tastemaker, as my personal interests tend to fall outside of the norm for my demographic – or most demographics, probably – but I thought I’d share some of the things I’m listening to and reading lately. Whether it’s a response to the cold winter, emotional events,…
• February 14, 2008: Good question || No. of Comments: 8
  I was waiting for a co-worker outside Starbucks yesterday afternoon when a man walked past. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice him until he was two steps past me, then turned around and walked back toward me. He was middle-aged, missing teeth and had sort of a disheveled look about him. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” he said. “I really wasn’t. I was just going to keep going.” “Great,” I thought. “He’s going to ask for money. Will it be 50 cents for a bus fare? Five dollars for his kid’s medication?” His breath was nauseating — booze and…
• February 12, 2008: Moratorium on Clicking || No. of Comments: 2
  One shouldn’t have Internet access late at night, when it’s too easy to accidentally click a few buttons and purchase a whole bunch of things one doesn’t particularly need. Like soap handmade from alfalfa leaves and cinnamon. Or “electroacoustic” music from some kid in New York. Or a book called “Letterpress: New Applications for Traditional Skills.” And that was just tonight. You could take away my plastic, but I have the number memorized. (Have you explored Etsy.com, though? I spend hours looking at paper products, clothes, jewelry, art, etc. — all handmade by little people like you and me.)…
• February 5, 2008: Caucus (the verb) || No. of Comments: 4
  If you don’t vote, don’t complain. Ever. Not even about your friend’s smelly feet, poor restaurant service, or working late on a Friday. Just sit there and take it. No vote = no voice. Got it?…
• February 3, 2008: Yes We Can || No. of Comments: 4
  www.yeswecansong.com…
• January 25, 2008: A Reminder || No. of Comments: 2
  One of my college professors wrote a letter of recommendation this month to help me complete a grad school application. I cringed when I read it: “Aaron’s favorite book was For Whom the Bell Tolls; he stopped reading Walden because it was too boring. He enjoyed the Bible and poetry, and he read a poem that ended, ‘Some things are better left unsaid.’” He enjoyed the Bible. It instantly brought me back seven years to my freshman year at Michigan State University. This was me: Religious to an extreme, closeted, and uncomfortable in my own skin. I shared a dorm…
• January 4, 2008: We Need This || No. of Comments: 2
  Years from now, you’ll look back and you’ll say that this was the moment, this was the place where America remembered what it means to hope. For many months, we’ve been teased, even derided for talking about hope. But we always knew that hope is not blind optimism. It’s not ignoring the enormity of the tasks ahead or the roadblocks that stand in our path. “It’s not sitting on the sidelines or shirking from a fight. Hope is that thing inside us that insists, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us if we have…
• January 1, 2008: Hip Shaker || No. of Comments: 3
  Yesterday I was in a blah mood. The thought of a frenetic New Years made me feel exhausted and a tad bit cranky. I pondered the social ramifications of spending the evening locked in my apartment with a book and, perhaps, Damien Rice. Would it appear too misanthropic? A bad omen for 2008? Was I just depressed about being dateless on New Years Eve? About not being able to drink a drop of alcohol due to antibiotics? But it sounded so swell. My phone buzzed with calls and text messages from friends wondering what the plans were. I ignored them…
• December 31, 2007: Desiderata || No. of Comments: 0
  This is the third New Years that I’ve posted the below poem. It still resonates. May 2008 bring you joy, love and peace. Desiderata Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there…
• November 17, 2007: You have no idea || No. of Comments: 4
  How much pain and effort this site took to launch….
• October 21, 2007: Into the Wild || No. of Comments: 8
  Yesterday Casey and I saw a movie called “Into the Wild,” which is based on the true story of Christopher McCandless, a 20-something wanderer who rejected his family and society to move to Alaska in search of truth and, I suppose, the meaning of life. It was an intense movie, full of quotes from Tolstoy and Thoreau and London, a critique of social norms and standard human interactions, but also of their opposite – an exclusive reliance on oneself. The movie resonated with me, someone who frequently spurns social settings in favor of my quiet apartment. Without giving away the…
• July 13, 2007: I should be embarrassed || No. of Comments: 13
  At a wedding. On the left, a U.S. senator. In the middle, the bride. On the right, Aaron. Dancing like a complete moron. With a glass of wine. On my shirt. (And several in my bloodstream.)…
• May 19, 2007: Fund || No. of Comments: 0
  Unfortunately, even though we both work for a Fortune 100 company, health insurance isn’t everything it should be. I put up a simple web site with information on how to help Casey with medical bills. He’s uncomfortable with the idea of people helping through this, but sometimes you just have to shut up and accept help from those who want to give it. :) Caseyquinnfund.com >>…
• May 19, 2007: May 18, 1981 || No. of Comments: 6
  Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 26, which tells you how much the header of this web site needs to be updated. It’s one of those little tasks that’s always waiting for tomorrow, and therefore never completed. It was a good birthday, with good news from Casey in Houston, good dinner with friends, and good bar times with even more friends. My favorite occasions are when different groups of people in my life come together and meet. Last night was a mix of co-workers, former roommates, softball teammates and volleyball teammates, the results of which were good. I know because…
• March 28, 2007: Rosa Loves || No. of Comments: 2
  Instead of giving your money to Threadless (which is a great site, don’t get me wrong), consider buying a T-shirt at Rosa Loves. Profits from all of the shirts sold on this small site are used for good causes, and the shirts are designed around that cause. The most engaging aspect is that the proceeds are donated not to large organizations like the American Red Cross, but are used to help very specific individuals. For example, the shirt I purchased will help a fisherman in Indonesia buy a boat of his own. The back of each shirt is printed…
• March 24, 2007: I got a tattoo || No. of Comments: 11
  Or at least my laptop did. I wanted something to personalize my new MacBook Pro, but not stickers. Instead, I went the high-end route and had it laser etched. It’s smooth as silk, permanent and I love it. If you want your own, contact Technology Tattoo in Minneapolis. I was their first non-business, non-friend-of-a-friend client, and they did a great job….
• March 18, 2007: Life is for enjoying || No. of Comments: 10
  My grandmother, whom I’ve written about recently, passed away Thursday morning after struggling with Alzheimer’s. On Friday I hopped on a flight to Michigan. My luggage didn’t arrive with me, so after a quick trip to pick up some clothes at Target, I headed with my family to the funeral home for four hours of visitation. Saturday was the funeral. With 76 years of living in the same small town, there was hardly an empty seat in the place. After a brief introduction from the minister and a song by my grandfather’s former secretary, I stood up to speak. Up…
• March 1, 2007: Yep || No. of Comments: 7
  My mother seems to think I’m one second away from drinking a bottle of wine and jumping off the Foshay Tower. “If you need some helping get through this, you just go to a doctor and they’ll prescribe you something,” she said. “That’s what I would do.” She’ll deny it, but I swear she said it. Really, it’s not quite to that extreme. If I learned anything from growing up gay in a secluded farm town and putting myself through Christian ex-gay ministries, it’s how to find renewal and keep going. This past weekend in D.C., when I just wanted…
• February 26, 2007: Weakness || No. of Comments: 0
  I don’t know how to write these things; how to make sense of things myself, much less make sense of it for other people. It’s been more than two weeks since Casey and I last spent a night together, our bodies hugged close. It’s been more than one week since I’ve seen him. I don’t want to ever be apart this long again. I don’t remember the last time I’ve truly smiled. On Friday I left a small vase of fresh daisies and a card on the counter at Casey’s loft. Early Saturday morning I hopped on a plane for…
• February 15, 2007: Happy || No. of Comments: 8
  I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to see Casey this morning and for him to press his thumb to his lips, and then reach out and press it to mine. Of course, that was after he handed me a plastic jug filled with his warm urine and asked me to find a place for it. :)…
• February 14, 2007: Houston || No. of Comments: 3
  With a connecting flight yesterday in blizzard blown Chicago, I almost didn’t make it to Houston. At noon, I was on the first non-canceled flight from Minneapolis to Chicago. At 2:40, I was on a plane intended for a 2:45 takeoff. At 5:30, we were still on the ground, still in our same seats. The runway was covered with snow, a valve on the plane wouldn’t close so they could de-ice, the tug got stuck pushing us from the jetway. I almost had a breakdown. With Casey’s surgery starting at 6 a.m. the next morning, if that flight didn’t take…
• February 6, 2007: Working for the man || No. of Comments: 4
  I spend the majority of my time and expel the majority of my energy and invest large shares of my intelligence and emotion in a job. 40+ hours a week. And while I say that it’s just a job, somewhere along the way I become invested in it and I begin to believe that because I care about this job, that it must care about me, too. I come to think of it almost as a relationship. And then, when I have to be out of the office to be with my boyfriend while he has a tumor removed from…
• February 4, 2007: Cupcake || No. of Comments: 1
  For the sake of something not-so-serious, here’s a photo I just found of the softball team I played with in Milwaukee this past Labor Day. We earned third place, but my favorite thing about this team is the name….
• January 31, 2007: From July 2006 || No. of Comments: 1
  I wrote this in July but it’s been sitting in a file on my desktop since then. Time to post it. This past weekend for me was supposed to include four parties, a wedding and volunteering as part of Minneapolis Pride celebrations. Instead, after receiving a phone call from my dad Thursday afternoon, I drove five hours to Milwaukee, cruised on a boat two and a half hours across Lake Michigan, and drove another two hours to my parents’ house to attend my grandmother’s funeral. My parents told me I didn’t have to – she was 93, it was imminent,…
• January 25, 2007: Feb. 14 || No. of Comments: 4
  Casey and I have a Valentine’s Day date with the ICU at Houston. He’ll be getting brain surgery to remove as much of the tumor as possible. At this point he’s ready to get it done and over with, and I share that feeling. This morning I found a Hitachi advertisement in Wired magazine that featured proton beam therapy at M.D. Andersen Cancer Center. It’s the exact same ground-breaking radiation treatment that Casey will have for six weeks following the surgery. The video on the Hitachi site shares one man’s story. It’s very interesting and I’m very grateful and confident…
• January 17, 2007: The essence || No. of Comments: 5
  Sometimes, when I’m at a coffeeshop or at dinner, I look at couples sitting near me. They’re laughing and talking about whatever it is they talk about, and I’m overcome by a sudden wave of fury. I think, “You’ll probably never have to deal with brain tumors or cancer, either yourself or with your significant other, and if you do, it won’t be after just a few months of being together and at age 25.” Lately, I’ve seen my worst traits come out on display. Irrational anger, fear, depression, self-pity, selfishness and insecurity have all been marionettes in this play,…
• January 10, 2007: 2007 || No. of Comments: 2
  A belated Happy New Year to you all….
• December 28, 2006: Christmas Tree Cakes || No. of Comments: 5
  Every year around this time my grandmother would stock up on boxes of Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes. With 200 calories and 25% of a day’s fat allowance, they were hardly healthy. But they were sure tasty, and I ate them by the boxful. Tonight I bought a box in remembrance of my grandmother. I just unwrapped the first cake, and it was as good as I recall. I say “in remembrance of my grandmother,” but the strange thing is that she’s still alive. In many ways, though, it’s as if she’s already passed on, carried away by a disease…
• December 21, 2006: Homonyms || No. of Comments: 1
  3 a.m. this morning Half awake and half asleep, a moment of adjusting pillows and arm positions. “Sorry. I need you,” he said. I sit up, awake and concerned. “What do you need?” “What?” He’s sleepy. “You said you needed me.” “No, I KNEED you…. With my knee. Sorry.” “Oh. Okay.” Back to sleep….
• December 16, 2006: The Best Xmas Cookies Ever || No. of Comments: 0
  
• December 15, 2006: For the nerdy kids || No. of Comments: 1
  Tomorrow I’m going to a Toys for Tots party, which simply means that guests show up with a toy to contribute to the charity and try not to spill any drinks on them throughout the evening. I’m bringing a book. After a brief internal debate on whether that counts as a toy, and a quick look at the Toys for Tots web site – which offered no guidance on the matter – I decided to give something for the nerdy boys and girls out there who would rather read a good piece of literature than play with a plastic…
• December 15, 2006: A genetics lesson || No. of Comments: 0
  Yesterday we paid a visit to the genetic counselor. I didn’t know there was such a thing. She was small and nerdy, with a bronchitis-impaired voice and big binder full of diagrams of chromosomes and cells. “The P53 gene puts the brakes on cell growth,” she said. “We think it’s possible you may be missing that gene.” She did her best to explain what that meant, but her tangents confused the key messages. (There’s a reason medical people aren’t in marketing and vice versa.) I did enjoy one particular tangent, though. She pointed at Casey and me. “Now if you…
• December 7, 2006: Time for pics || No. of Comments: 4
  First, thank you all for the kind words. They mean a lot. The latest: It’s either low-grade glioma, which is a form of slow-growing cancer, or DNET, which is benign. More information will come Monday when the brain tumor specialist has a chance to look at the tests. Either way, the worst-case scenarios have been eliminated and there is time to breathe. We celebrated the news with Modelo and Martha Stewart’s recipe for meatloaf. It was tasty. We took a break from cooking to take a photo in front of the tree we decorated with Casey’s family. I won’t share…
• December 2, 2006: Warm || No. of Comments: 5
  At 7:57 the nurse opened the door to the ICU ward. The first room on the left was Casey’s. The curtain was closed around the bed. A nurse stood outside. Hold on. Let me see if you can go in, she said. What’s your name? Aaron. It stuck in my throat. What was that? Aaron. Louder. From around the curtain another nurse emerged. Yes, come on in! she said And then he was there. Looking at me with a Styrofoam cup of cranberry juice in his hand, his forehead still a little bloody from the clamps that held his head…
• December 1, 2006: For One Another || No. of Comments: 1
  Right now Casey is having a biopsy to determine what kind of tumor is sitting on his brain. He will be at the hospital overnight to ensure the tests didn’t cause internal bleeding. Besides concern over the results, I think he’s also upset that they will shave part of his head. He said his hair is the only good feature he has left. I told him, no, I think his eyes are my favorite and those aren’t going anywhere. I hope that made him feel better. I haven’t seen him since Wednesday, which feels like months ago. His parents, who…
• November 28, 2006: Another Chapter || No. of Comments: 10
  After six months of inexplicable anxiety attacks and ineffective medication, an MRI yesterday discovered the root of the problem. The sudden clenched jaws, wringing hands, disorientation and memory blips were not caused by anxiety, after all, but were actually miniature seizures. What the tests uncovered is a brain tumor resting on the temporal lobe above my boyfriend’s left ear. I don’t yet comprehend what that means, but I imagine it as a black and angry hen jealously protecting its egg. — At 8 a.m. I left his loft to return to my apartment and get ready for work, while he…
• November 13, 2006: Vancouver || No. of Comments: 4
  These are photos from a weekend in Seattle and Vancouver, where the narrow space between land and sky leaves barely enough room to stand up straight. More photos….
• October 23, 2006: Rest Easy || No. of Comments: 5
  
• October 1, 2006: Oct. 1, 2003 || No. of Comments: 2
  Three years ago today I moved to Minneapolis. Every week I like it a little more…. Especially after weekends like this, with brightly colored leaves twirling down to the brick patio where we sit under soft hanging lights with glasses of red wine in our hands, and solitary walks through the brisk sunshine, and hard-won, sweaty volleyball games, capped off by Sunday night television and clay masks with a good friend. Despite what the last few entries suggest, happiness and contentment abounds. I wouldn’t be anywhere else….
• September 19, 2006: Legacy || No. of Comments: 6
  I have my mother’s mother’s eyes. In the 25 years that we shared, my grandmother and I never commented on that fact, though I was often startled to see my own eyes looking back at me, all bluish-greenish with a ring of amber around the pupils. This past summer, she passed away at 93. When I traveled home for the funeral, I found a book she wrote in when my sister and I were tiny one year olds, in May 1982. It was one of those books that grandparents are supposed to fill out for their grandchildren, giving some background…
• September 12, 2006: Dreaming || No. of Comments: 3
  There are times, like now, when the room is dark and the music is soft and the candles are lit and my mind is roaming the dimensions of my life when I start to feel that my single greatest possession is hope. In those moments, I wish for the ability to turn that hope into something material, like knitting a warm wool hat, something I can give to the people I love to replace their old hats knit from heartache or shame or loneliness. Perhaps we can even start knitting classes for our hope hats. Then we can knit hats…
• July 17, 2006: Animal Farm || No. of Comments: 3
  While I love my new apartment, lately I’ve been fighting with the animals over who gets to inhabit this space. Last Friday when I came home from work I noticed a hole chewed in the side of my air conditioner — more specifically in the screen that closes the gap between my a/c window unit and the window sill. It was a hole perfectly sized for a squirrel, with teethmarks that matched and one perfectly squirrel-sized poop on the inside of my window sill. Which meant one thing — it not only chewed a hole in my a/c, but it…
• July 11, 2006: Hopefully || No. of Comments: 7
  The Twin Cities Pride celebrations were almost three weeks ago. I had planned to go to three parties, one wedding and to volunteer at the Target booth. Instead, after a phone call from my dad, I drove five hours to Milwaukee, took a boat two hours to Michigan and drove another two hours to my parents’ house so that I could be home for my grandmother’s funeral. That’s another story I haven’t yet figured out how to tell. I missed the Pride celebrations this year, but who cares, right? Isn’t Pride done with, an unnecessary relic of years when the…
• July 7, 2006: Toronto 2006 || No. of Comments: 5
  Last Friday 10 of my teammates and I traveled to Toronto for a softball tournament. (I guess we’re just that serious about our softball.) Remember my last trip to Toronto? This one was different. Last year I had maybe one drink per day. This year I had maybe one drink per hour; they just kept landing in my hands. The vineyard tours on the way to Niagara Falls didn’t help, either. (View photo) Last year I went by myself and spent the entire weekend with my good friend Jose. We went where we wanted, when we wanted. This year,…
• June 19, 2006: Cool Down || No. of Comments: 0
  Greg during a weekend trip to Red Wing, Minn., home of Red Wing Pottery, Red Wing Shoes, and not much to do when it’s too hot outside to stray far from air conditioning….
• June 15, 2006: Strawberries || No. of Comments: 7
  I’ve fallen in love this late spring with strawberries. It happened three weeks ago when my friend Matt came over to watch a few episodes of Six Feet Under. I provided chilled white wine while he toted over some dark chocolate and fresh, organic strawberries. The color was immediately striking. Of course this isn’t the first season that I’ve partaken in the fruit, but I don’t remember strawberries being quite so red before, with such green tops and perfect seeds. Maybe I’ve never really looked before. Isn’t that the way it normally is, with most things? And then the taste….
• April 4, 2006: Eat Pancakes For Friends || No. of Comments: 0
  Not my team, but worth supporting all the same! Please join the Cupcake softball team at its fundraiser THIS Saturday. What: Pancakes with Cupcakes; Fundraiser Pancake Breakfast for the TCGSL team “Cupcake.” Join us for coffee, juice, bacon, eggs and all the pancakes you can eat Where: Applebee’s Restaurant in Calhoun Village; 3200 West Lake Street When: Saturday, April 8th; 8-10am (must be in the door by 10am) Contribution: only $7; Leave a comment here if you want tickets or get tickets at the door. The Cupcake softball players will be your hosts, waiters and cooks. The purpose of the…
• March 31, 2006: My car is a star! || No. of Comments: 2
  A few months ago we did a photo shoot for one of our clients. After an intense audition process (Do you have a car? Yep. What color is it? White. Can we use it in the photo shoot? Sure.), my little vehicle was selected to be in the shoot. You can see it there on the far right. Parked sort of crooked. We’re ready for primetime now!…
• March 29, 2006: Where has Aaron gone? || No. of Comments: 3
  It’s a fair question, deserving a fair answer. So here it is, a quick March review: Spent the weekend in Wisconsin with the volleyball team. Saw Hamlet (for the first time) at the Guthrie Theater. In our time of ultimate multitasking, juggling cell phones, IM conversations, emails, television and work all at the same time, Shakespeare demands one’s full attention. It’s a shock to adjust to, but thoroughly rewarding at the same time. Saw Stereolab at First Avenue, the home of Prince. Took second place in a volleyball tournament. Not bad for a bunch of slackers. Started working with the…
• March 19, 2006: No, honey, but smile anyway || No. of Comments: 1
  Yesterday Greg and I took his two-year-old niece, Ava, to the amusement park at Mall of America. At 36 and a half inches tall, she was barely able to pass for four of the rides. As she was strapped into the back of an airplane that rotated around an axis like the earth moves around the sun, she looked bored. Some kids screamed and rocked the planes back and forth. Ava put her pink sunglasses on — upside down to make a fashion statement — and peered at the nearby adults with an expression that said, “Am I supposed…
• March 13, 2006: Buried || No. of Comments: 4
  The city underwent a dramatic costume change overnight, transforming from slick blacks and browns to buried in thick layers of white. The snow plows were kind enough to bury my little Volvo as it was parked on the street. After 15 minutes of shoveling the wet, heavy snow off the top of the car, GTB hit the gas while I pushed. The front wheels spun without friction as densely packed snow lifted the car off the ground like a jack. A nice lesbian lady nearby offered her shovel, which I gladly accepted. As she watched us coax the car away…
• March 8, 2006: Why I’ll Make a Good Wife Someday || No. of Comments: 8
  I’ll save your house from smelling like greasy bacon. Soon I’ll get back to writing… Probably, anyway….
• March 4, 2006: Lazy || No. of Comments: 3
  I’m in the Wisconsin woods with the other five members of my volleyball team. (Though, obviously with wireless internet, we’re hardly roughing it.) Doug snored all night, even after I threw pillows at him. Adam, in a moment of truth, said he fears getting fat more than he fears death. Justin, always the leader, is teaching a card game. (Or trying.) Bill has the refrigerator stocked with drinks and loves to pour them. Randy was confused by the Lycra-infused underwear peeking out the top of my jeans. I spent 15 minutes trying to light the gas fireplace, finding success only…
• February 24, 2006: Let’s Play Pretend || No. of Comments: 10
  Let’s pretend for a moment that you’re a college student and you see an ad that directs you to this site. So you go there and click enter. What happens next? Does the site load okay for you, and fairly quickly? (Remember that you’re a college student and have a fast internet connection.) And then, assuming everything loads okay, do you like the site? Or not like the site? Entertaining or not? Get its point across or not? I’ll withhold my opinion, but feedback is much appreciated and thanks for being my focus group….
• February 17, 2006: Hell || No. of Comments: 0
  If there’s any reason I’m going to Hades or beyond, it must be because of all the paper and ink I waste in any given day. This didn’t scale right. Print it again! This is spelled wrong. Print it again! We need 40 copies of this 40 page document. Print it now! I think this would look better on bigger paper. Print it again! Print print print print! I hate trees and the oxygen they provide….
• February 13, 2006: Happy News || No. of Comments: 0
  I avoid televised newscasts for fear that I may start to see the world as they portray it — death, mayhem and destruction in every corner. Fear fear fear! Be on the lookout for this man! Do you know what’s in YOUR neighborhood grocery store? What does your local hardware store not want you to know? My friend Aaron sent me a link to a great site today: www.happynews.com. It’s the place to go for news stories that are positive, like this article about libraries that are starting speed dating groups for people who like books. Him: What symbolism do…
• February 12, 2006: Facials || No. of Comments: 14
  Reason No. 576 why it’s fabulous to be a gay man: Relaxing weekends with six men giving each other facials and hand massages in quiet, rural Wisconsin. Rigid boundaries defining masculinity? Not here. Pass the moisturizer please….
• February 9, 2006: Post-Show and Debut || No. of Comments: 6
  So Swan Lake was great. The choreography was terrific, the dancers were beautiful and graceful (as I would expect from ballerinos), and the sets were cool. Strangely, though, the dancers looked more attractive — tall, lithe, sexy — wearing full evening suits than half naked in feathered leggings. Afterward, we all remarked on that. I guess it’s true that there is something nice about mystery. If the truth is told, though, I had trouble staying awake through the show. Not because it wasn’t good but because a glass of wine at dinner and lack of sleep is a bad combination…
• February 8, 2006: Stop Looking at Me, Swan || No. of Comments: 2
  More than 10 years ago I saw a production of Swan Lake at DeVos Hall in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was what you think of with ballets: Tutus, pink, the rare male, etc. On the docket for tonight: Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake. With a cast that is almost all male and nary a tutu in sight, I’m sure it will be a very different experience for me than the first time around. It’s only in town from Feb. 8-12, so you should get tickets ASAP….
• February 6, 2006: The Office: Minneapolis, Vol. 1 || No. of Comments: 6
  Today I’ve become suddenly and irrationally afraid that the cleaning ladies are taking my recycle bin and dumping its contents in with non-recyclable garbage, making my already feeble attempts at environmental responsibility completely futile. Is there a phobia for that?…
• February 2, 2006: A Nomad’s Home || No. of Comments: 4
  In August 1999, I left the familiarity of my parents’ home and moved all my belongings into Michigan State University’s Case Hall. Since then, I have lived in three dorm rooms, three houses, six apartments and four states. I have shared a house with 14 other people and two cats, a brick condo with a view of a beautiful cathedral that I could never see because my roommate wouldn’t allow the curtains to be opened, and a reformed hotel room with two super-Christians and a colony of Floridian cockroaches. My home is not where I sleep or store clothes or…
• January 31, 2006: Leave the Pipe Bomb at Home || No. of Comments: 4
  Yesterday morning at around 11:30, a man got off the elevator and walked into our lobby. Wearing stonewashed jeans, a gray button-up cotton shirt and a heavy coat, he stepped up to our receptionist, who was peering at him from behind her iMac. Numerous examples of my agency’s advertising were pasted on rusted metal plates behind her. Alternative music played on the speakers. “Is this the place that women have abortions at?” the man asked. Our receptionist — a blonde-haired, 25-year-old girl with sharp wits — looked at him speechless. “Um. No.” “Okay,” he said, and walked out. Freak….
• January 27, 2006: Here’s My Advice || No. of Comments: 3
  Aaron, Justin and Greg. Photo by Paul Nixdorf. Tip back a few glasses of wine — one or two too many is perfect, especially at an open bar (thanks, Target) — settle into a seat and laugh your ass off at Knock! (Info at Theater Latte Da.) It’s like a mix of Disney’s Fantasia, Charlie Chaplin and TV’s Wonder Years. You have until February 19….
• January 23, 2006: Saturday, A Late Breakfast || No. of Comments: 1
  We eat our pancakes and egg sandwiches in front of the hot grill, grease boiling in the potatoes, the young short order cook hungover and looking like he needs to cook a few servings of steak & eggs for himself. The noontime sun lights up the tiny Band Box Diner, a greasy spoon that’s made it through decades of change on its little corner in Minneapolis’ Elliott Park. One gets the feeling that not a lot has changed there since the diner opened its single door in 1934. Much of its clientele are regulars; they don’t need to tell the…
• January 16, 2006: Love of the Dance || No. of Comments: 6
  Donning cowboy boots, black slim-fit jeans and matching snap-button shirts, my sister and I — awkward 14-year-olds — would often accompany my grandparents to a local dance hall for evenings of two-stepping and line dances. Before our excursions, my grandmother would sprinkle her basement floor with corn starch, pull out her binder full of line dances — each step counted out on bond paper — and turn on the music for us to practice. More than 10 years later and a timezone away, my grandmother never fails to ask when I’m going dancing with her. As her mind unravels and…
• January 13, 2006: Queer Eye for the Ad Agency || No. of Comments: 2
  A partner in my agency just came to me and said, “How busy are you these days?” “Well, quite busy,” I said. “Are you looking for help with something?” “Yeah, we need to do some redesign work in our office lobby, over in this area by the kitchen and back in that area by the ping pong table. We need to work with set builders, designers and other people to get it done.” “So you’re asking me to be a queer eye for you straight guys?” “Yeah, kinda.” “I’m in.”…
• January 10, 2006: Silly || No. of Comments: 3
  This morning a few tears were leaking out of my eyes and more were on the verge of coming, thanks to Aaron Aanthem’s recent entry, when a co-worker stopped by my desk. I could see her looking at me with concern like, “Do I ask him what’s wrong or pretend like everything is fine?” And I thought, “Do I tell her the silly reason why I’m crying or do I pretend like everything’s fine and she’s just imagining these tears?” I told her….
• January 10, 2006: Yeehaw || No. of Comments: 1
  I just eBayed me a pair of genuine Tony Lama shitkickers. Competition was fierce and the adrenaline was high, but at the end of the auction I emerged victorious. Soon I will have in my hands a pair of — in the seller’s own typewritten words — “BLACK SMOOTH LEATHER TONY LAMAS AIN’T NOTHIN’ SPECIAL, JUST NICE LOOKIN’ DRESS OR EVER’DAY BOOTS.” I doubt they’ll be either DRESS or EVER’DAY BOOTS for me, but they could be fun for, I don’t know, kicking up my heels or somethin’ Total price, including shipping: $41….
• January 9, 2006: Desiderata || No. of Comments: 2
  I posted this poem by Max Ehrmann a year ago. Today, though, it feels like a good thing to share again. Desiderata Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be…
• January 7, 2006: Over the River || No. of Comments: 5
  Sometimes, when everything that could possibly go wrong in a week has (and more), you have to rely on your friends to pull you away from despair and give you a change of scenery. Like St. Paul at midnight. And then they allow you to pry open your puffy eyes and take photos of them because they know that’s an endeavor that makes you feel better. Click for bigger….
• January 6, 2006: Still a Country Girl || No. of Comments: 8
  On the schedule for this Saturday is a volleyball clinic, as well as an art opening at Ox-Op and a puppetry performance at the Walker Art Center with the very long title of “Entertainment by Dan Graham and Tony Oursler Featuring Japanther and the Huber Marionettes: Don’t Trust Anyone Over Thirty.” This morning my friend Aaron e-mailed me to ask if Sunday I want to go to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts or the Weisman Art Museum. A good urban gay would revel in all the highbrow snobbery of art openings and strange performances (“Punch and Judy meets the Who”…
• January 4, 2006: Another Suitcase in Another Hall || No. of Comments: 8
  It is with great sadness that I today announce the end of an era of splendor and happiness. For the next seven days I will wear nothing but black clothes and will cover my mirrors in black shrouds of fine linen, for I am in mourning. Without warning or premonition, the halcyon days of free Chipotle burritos have come to a close. Today, for the first time since the flowers were just starting to bloom in early spring, I have handed over my debit card and paid for my chicken fajita bowl. My tears mingle with my cilantro, my plastic…
• January 2, 2006: Hello Again || No. of Comments: 5
  While there were five people staying at Bill and Doug’s cabin retreat this weekend and at least seven others at nearby cabins, the most important visitor was nature itself. Like a glamorous party guest dressed to the nines, the snow-laden trees and valleys and lakes demanded our full attention and awe. The curving, white roads we traveled on were our quiet but firm docents, prompting us to admire this vista and then that as we rounded one bend and then another. From the warmth of home we watched a bald eagle — a mere 15 yards away — survey…
• December 5, 2005: To You and Yours and Mine and Ours || No. of Comments: 4
  The weeks between Thanksgiving and the New Year are an amalgam of isolation and togetherness. Solitary walks among snow-draped buildings and trees, delicate diamonds crunching under my boots and my breath billowing far ahead leave me intensely conscious of my aloneness. Yesterday I drove along the lakes of Minneapolis. They were barren white and brown, a stark and monochromatic contrast to the vibrant activity of two months ago. Lights illuminate foggy apartment windows, but the sidewalks are empty. At the same time that we become most acutely conscious of our solitary selves, in this season we also grow closer to…
• December 3, 2005: The Soundtrack to My Life || No. of Comments: 2
  Since moving into this apartment in August, I’ve felt like my life is a movie that features a soaring soundtrack of stringed instruments. While I inhabit the lower unit of my duplex, above me live two professional musicians. Both Yale-educated men in their 20s, one is a violist in the Minnesota Orchestra and the other is a violinist in the St. Paul Orchestra. They are responsible for my film’s score. From dawn until dusk they practice, seeping notes through the floorboards and walls and out the windows. Sometimes they play in the back bedroom and sometimes they play in the…
• December 1, 2005: This has a Thesis. Good Luck Finding It. || No. of Comments: 6
  On Tuesday morning I couldn’t get out of bed. Depression sapped my energy and the day ahead seemed so long and useless and draining. Even finding clothes to wear seemed too difficult. I called in sick to work and surrounded my body with pillows, resolving to stay in bed all day. Twenty minutes later I called back to the office and told them I was miraculously healed and would be in shortly. I remembered something important in those 20 minutes, something that has often helped me fend off moments of depression: I am not the center of the world. My…
• November 30, 2005: Suddenly, There was Light || No. of Comments: 8
  Don’t you love it when there is a big meeting scheduled that requires lots of preparation and there isn’t enough time for all of that work and so you’re kind of worried about how everything is going to be ready in time and as the meeting draws nearer the feeling of dread deepens and then suddenly, the day before the meeting, your client calls and has to cancel it and reschedule to another time that surely won’t be until at least January and you pretend to be sad that it’s cancelled but really you’re lifting your imploring eyes to the…
• November 27, 2005: Red Remains || No. of Comments: 4
  Click for bigger/sharper image….
• November 27, 2005: How I Spent My Saturday Night || No. of Comments: 3
  A co-worker of mine likes to comment on my penchant for Western shirts. Tonight I learned where that passion comes from: My family. My grandfather is a card-carrying member of the local Moose Lodge (as well as the American Legion). Every Wednesday and Saturday he and my grandma carefully pick out their clothes, make the proper phone calls to ensure the attendance of friends, and head to the lodge to kick up their boots with the other old folks. This evening I, along with several other family members, had the pleasure of joining them. I can’t say that I blame…
• November 25, 2005: Black Friday || No. of Comments: 1
  My agency’s retail clients have been getting ready for this day since the summer months. I’ve sat in countless strategy meetings and debated the proper hour to open, the proper discount to offer (make it as small as possible! Margin you know…), the proper way to promote the event (newspaper? radio? outdoor?), blah blah blah. And now Black Friday is here. The biggest shopping day of the year. Whoopty doo. I have the great fortune to spend this glorious day in the second-richest metropolitan area in the country: Detroit. The city may be poor but the suburbs are rich rich…
• November 23, 2005: When Walls Fall || No. of Comments: 3
  What happened immediately after the Berlin Wall fell in 1990, nearly 30 years after its construction? Three decades of separation, of sizing up an impenetrable wall, of resignation to a life constrained to only one half of a city, and then, at least as seen by my nine-year-old eyes, the wall was suddenly gone, reduced to rubble. Did a gleeful people run with shouts over the rocks that once were the wall? Did they charge headlong into the other half? Or did they tiptoe up to the edge and peer into the other side, afraid that their eyes were deceiving…
• November 20, 2005: Ollie ollie oxen free || No. of Comments: 5
  A couple of weeks ago someone kindly welcomed themselves into our garage and stole the garage door opener from my roommate’s truck, along with a tire pressure checker. Strangely, that’s all they took. It was more than enough, though, because since then we’ve had to park on the street and unplug the opener so they can’t welcome themselves back into our garage whenever they want. So this morning when I was staring out the window lost in thought and two kids streaked by into our backyard, I was pissed. When 10 minutes went by and they were still back there,…
• November 19, 2005: People I Know || No. of Comments: 1
  People follow me. More and more they do, traces of my past appearing where I least expect them. In line for lunch I hear someone’s voice and think it’s a former college classmate. It takes me 10 seconds to realize that’s a remote possibility, that she’s probably in a third-world country right now, carrying naked children on her hips. On the street I see a smile and think, “Is that Chris?” And then it’s not. Chris is in Indiana. Or I meet someone at a party whose smile and eyes bear strong resemblance to a long-lost friend. And I immediately…
• November 18, 2005: It’s Friday || No. of Comments: 3
  In all its glory. It’s 43 degrees outside and 85 in our office. The Hershey’s bars behind the receptionist are melting and there is sweat between my ass cheeks. No one feels like working, especially after the week we’ve had of “I’m not digging these concepts” and “Um, OK, we’ll do 12 new print ads for you in TWO DAYS. And without photography (cause you’re too cheap). Not a problem.” In 15 minutes it’s time for happy hour. In the meantime, I’ve stripped my sweater and am getting whooped by an art director at ping pong. Art directors aren’t supposed…
• November 17, 2005: 1,117,440 Minutes || No. of Comments: 6
  As of today, I’ve lived in the Twin Cities for two years and 47 days. Is a place home when you forget to mark the anniversaries of your arrival? When I moved north for my first real job out of college I knew exactly two people in the whole state of Minnesota. And they don’t even live here anymore. Sometimes when paging through my phone book or hanging out with friends, I think of that and it makes me smile. And never want to move to an unknown city again….
• November 15, 2005: Eyeing the Altar || No. of Comments: 5
  The below was written as a “personal story” for an upcoming campaign with Outfront Minnesota. Thought I’d share it with you all, as well. In September 2005, I watched as my sister was married to the man she loves at the altar of a small church on Lake Michigan’s eastern shore. I sat alongside the rest of my family in the front pew on the left hand side of the aisle, while behind us breathed dozens of distant relatives and longtime friends, all looking intently at my sister and her soon-to-be husband as they fumbled with words and he fought…
• November 10, 2005: Alternate this || No. of Comments: 4
  “Alternate Ending!” the DVD packaging screamed. Exclamation points always add so much excitement, don’t they? Alternate ending? I thought. How can there be an alternate movie to this movie? THE TITANIC. Does the ship NOT sink after all? Was it all a big hoax? Did singing angels with crowns of glory fly in and lift the boat out of the frigid water using only the pinky fingers on their left hand? I guess I’ll have to buy the DVD to find out….
• November 10, 2005: Sappy, I Know || No. of Comments: 12
  A few weeks ago I e-mailed two close friends and gave them all the contact information for my family members. I’m not expecting death or destruction, I wrote, but just in case… One of the recipients thought at first glance that it was a suicide note. It certainly was not. Life continues to expand and so does my joy in living it. But age is taking its toll, and not necessarily in a bad way. The recklessness and invincibility of youth is gone. Back in the day I used to tightrope walk on live electric wires strung high above active…
• November 7, 2005: So Glad it’s Monday || No. of Comments: 8
  Sometimes I pretend I’m an actor playing the role of something I’m naturally not: An extrovert. I can occasionally and for short intense bursts of time play this role very well, worthy of an Oscar almost. Only the most astute observer will notice that the bathroom breaks I take during these extroverted scenes are not because duty calls but because I need to breathe for just a couple of minutes. Actually, even the most astute observer wouldn’t notice this trick unless they are observing my bathroom breaks. Which, I assure you, they are not. Usually I don this role because…
• November 2, 2005: 9 to 5 || No. of Comments: 8
  Sometimes it’s difficult to explain how I spend my days. This is it. Today: Four hours in a recording studio. What you can’t see here are all the differing opinions humming around the room. My job is to take those opinions, soften the blows and make sure everyone leaves happy. Sometimes it’s a little like jumping in front of a moving truck and then saying, “Thank you! That turned out well now, didn’t it?” (But usually it’s not that bad.)…
• October 31, 2005: The Bus is Her Stage || No. of Comments: 9
  Her day peaks exactly twice: Once at 7:56 a.m. when she boards the No. 18 bus at a quiet corner in south Minneapolis and again at 5:25 when it drops her off at that same intersection. As the bus pulls to a stop every weekday morning, the curtain rises and the lights brighten. Mentally checking her posture, she holds her small pink alligator purse in one hand and waves at the driver with the other. Her smile is radiant as she bounces up the steps and into the spotlight. She takes her time paying the fare, first digging for her…
• October 28, 2005: To-Do || No. of Comments: 5
  Sitting just to the right of my keyboard is my to-do list. It’s always there, organizing my life, reminding me what needs to be done and providing a sense of accomplishment when items are checked off. I’ve tried using the task lists on the computer, but checking things off on a screen just doesn’t provide the same satisfaction as on paper. Like other people, I often add items to my checklist after they are completed, just so I can see those encouraging check marks. Here is my current to-do list (always written in blue ink): Buy 40 squeegees (checked) Valleyfair…
• October 26, 2005: This is Called A “Telling Fact” || No. of Comments: 12
  It’s not too difficult to guess what the top tourist attraction is in the state of Minnesota. It’s that behemoth version of a standard suburban shopping mall, the Mall of America. Forty-five million people visited that hellhole in 2004. But try to tell me what the No. 2 attraction is… Go on, take a guess. OK. Stop babbling. It’s Cabela’s, the retail paradise for hunters. It attracted four million people in 2005. I find this funny. ——— For those who care, here are the top 10 Minnesota attractions, with attendance: Mall of America: 45,000,000 Cabelas: 4,000,000 Metrodome: 2,656,820 Grand Casino…
• October 24, 2005: Food || No. of Comments: 14
  I can’t eat French onion soup, not because I don’t like the taste but because it’s ugly. Brown and thick and horrid looking. Lately I’ve been eating veggie burgers for dinner because my imagination has been acting up when I eat meat. I have to add alfalfa sprouts on top of the veggie burger, though, to break up all that brown-ness. Sans sprouts, the bun and the burger are basically the same color. If it were a painting it would be one boring, unappealing slab of poop brown. Add a few sprouts, though, and the painting is like a Warhol…
• October 20, 2005: Stories that Aren’t From Me || No. of Comments: 3
  My sister called me this evening as she drove to the grocery store to replace the crockpot meal she destroyed. A social worker in a retirement home for the rich, she told me how one of her residents died this week. And how, when my sister saw the 98-year-old woman’s cold body flopped on the side of her bed, she had to leave the room before she started laughing. A spitfire until the day she died, the old lady passed away with her middle finger clearly extended, like she was saying to death, “Eff off. I’m going but not willingly.”…
• October 17, 2005: The Joy of Sets || No. of Comments: 3
  Last week we won our first Ultimate Frisbee game and this week we won our first volleyball game, despite our usual comical play (which I love). For example, I almost knocked a guy out in the bleachers with a spike that went up instead of down. Sadly, it’s a frequent thing. But somehow we won a game and so our cheers were louder than usual. With a teamname like “Joy of Sets,” you know things are bound to get a little dirrrty. As I promised in the last entry, here are some of our most regular cheers (which must always…
• October 14, 2005: Hey ‘Dina || No. of Comments: 4
  There is a tradition after Ultimate Frisbee games that dictates that each team must — if they agree — make up a song and sing it to each other after the game is finished. Lame, right? That’s why we rarely follow the tradition. Sunday, though, we won our first game after four weeks of play. Spirits were high as we finished the last of our Gatorades and pulled on our warmup pants, our sweat-soaked hair clinging to our faces. The other team approached. “Do you guys wanna do a cheer?” Uh… we looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure.” The…
• October 11, 2005: Zoom || No. of Comments: 7
  Sometimes my favorite part of the day is a two-mile, 15-minute bike ride home from work. Escaping the office as soon as possible, black leather gloves on, jacket unbuttoned, I awkwardly stretch my leg over the bar, push the right pedal down and take off, a penguin diving into water. Turning right onto Marquette Avenue in downtown Minneapolis, I own the narrow bike lane. Two lanes of cars come at me on my left. They stop and go and brake and curse and look exhausted. Suckers! I fly by them in my special lane. On my right I buzz by…
• October 9, 2005: Dive bars, clay masks, rock climbing and trains || No. of Comments: 6
  Me getting misted behind Cascade Falls in Osceola, Wisc. This evening I returned from another short trip out of the city, this time with my good friends, Adam, Justin and Kevin. Friday we drove an hour north to St. Croix Falls, where we checked into the fabulous Holiday Inn Express and headed out to mix with the locals at a dive bar. We discovered, though, that we didn’t fit in. Evidently it’s a requirement for men there to wear camouflage hats at the bar. And when we went to the jukebox, the bartender yelled to us, “AS LONG AS…
• October 7, 2005: The Best is Today || No. of Comments: 9
  Last night I walked through Loring Park in the Thursday darkness of 10 p.m. The air was sharp and clear, like all the particles of dust and oxygen and carbon monoxide were sucked away — where I don’t know — and what remained was pure air. A vacuum of fortifying cold. Inside the restaurants lining the park I watched people eating by candlelight, huge fronds of leaves framing their tables. I wanted to push my face against the windows and observe, to listen to their stories by reading their lips, my hot breath steaming the glass. I was alone. After…
• October 6, 2005: Another One Not to Miss || No. of Comments: 3
  If you see any theater this month or even this year, see this: Please Don’t Blow Up Mr. Boban. It’s everything live theater should be. Engaging, intimate, touching, hopeful, insightful, entertaining, and above all, human. With less than 100 seats in the Loring Playhouse and less than one foot separating the stage from the crowd, the usual separation between audience and cast is gone. When a cast member looks at you and asks a question, your response is automatic. You are no longer a spectator, you’re a participant. At this close range, the story comes alive with richness. As…
• October 3, 2005: Tragic, but not || No. of Comments: 5
  Periodically I come to the realization that the Twin Cities have some top-notch theater happening all over the metro area, and that I’m seeing almost none of it. It seems people my age just aren’t into the theater, unless it’s Wicked or Rent. We’d rather stand and look at the same people in the same bars, drinking the same drinks, listening to the same music, wearing the same clothes… You get my drift. Yesterday, though, prompted by cheap tickets, I escaped the routine and saw Sophocles’ tragic Antigone at Jeune Lune, my favorite theater. I have several friends who are…
• October 1, 2005: Saturday || No. of Comments: 4
  Summer is fading but a lone flower in my back yard holds on to its petals for dear life, unwilling to give up the fight. Meet Dalton, half boxer, half pit bull, all puppy sweetness. Clumsy, alternately confident and suddenly unsure. Likes to lick cracks in sidewalks and anything made of wood. In my care for the weekend. Matt, Dalton and I head to St. Croix Falls, Wisc., where we spend the afternoon walking among cliffs and rivers and lakes. The woods are a new adventure with a puppy. Every hole, leaf, crack and crevice holds something invisible, fascinating…
• September 30, 2005: Hands of a Sculptor || No. of Comments: 2
  “We all have the hands of a sculptor. Events unfold that have that sense of both accident and providence, like a meteoric collision. We catch them and shape them into something we can understand, colouring them with our own private set of pigments.”— Joel Perhaps something later from me on this subject (but probably not till after the weekend). If you haven’t read Joel’s blog, I highly recommend it. I have never met, e-mailed, commented, or talked with him, but are those things necessary to feel some sort of kinship? I don’t think they are….
• September 29, 2005: The Greatest Problem of All || No. of Comments: 7
  If you think the last entry was serious… Now I have a real problem that’s been vexing me for years. I’m asking for your support, understanding and assistance. Please help me find a good hair stylist. This is urgent. Send recommendations and/or warnings my way immediately. Qualifications: Must be able to provide sound hair advice for the clueless, i.e. me. Must not be afraid to inform me that I am indeed clueless and immediately suggest alternatives. Must be on top of current hair styling trends and have a range that extends beyond the typical gay boy haircut of the day:…
• September 28, 2005: The Greatest Sadness of All || No. of Comments: 10
  How easily people slip through this world unknown. Those who want to hide whatever it is about themselves that ignites shame simply turn on the smiles and stock up an arsenal of questions. They know that most people are perfectly content to talk about themselves, talking not with, but to. In the worst case, whole families spend lifetimes together, never really knowing or understanding themselves, and so they never really know each other. I think, though, that the human spirit is persistent. We find ways to connect with others because connection is not a want, it is a need. A…
• September 21, 2005: Starbucks Has it Right || No. of Comments: 8
  This is for some of you. A nudge, not a push….
• September 21, 2005: Closed Gates || No. of Comments: 5
  My apartment building is set between an alley and a street. Five yards behind our wonderfully cute building, catty corner to the southwest edge of my apartment is our flat-roofed, cement-blocked, smells-like-mold garage. The garage door opens into the alley. On the northwest side of the garage is a small hinged gate in the chainlink fence. It is the border between our wonderfully cute yard and the alley. It is not even wide enough to fit my bicycle through. On this gate is a large “KEEP OUT” sign written in white letters on a black background. There are four people…
• September 18, 2005: Prints Galore || No. of Comments: 5
  This evening I ordered some prints of a few photos I’ve taken this summer and, after some internal deliberating, decided I’d offer them up in case any helloaaron.com readers want one for themselves. This is kind of a big step for me and makes me nervous. It’s not that I’m worried no one will want a print. That doesn’t matter. What makes me nervous is that by offering them up, I’m coming dangerously close to posing as an “artist” or some other creative type. Those titles and labels scare me and I don’t feel adequate for them. But at…
• September 16, 2005: And You Thought I Was Nice || No. of Comments: 18
  The other day I went on a date. It was pretty much a blind date, or at least the 21st century version of a blind date: Guy finds a profile I have online. Guy e-mails me, we chat for a few days, he doesn’t have a picture so it’s literally blind, he asks if I want to “hang out” at a time when I’m bored and seemingly all my friends are with their boyfriends or working or something. So I say yes. He picks me up at a coffeeshop where I am writing and enjoying an excellent chocolate chip cookie….
• September 15, 2005: Go Away || No. of Comments: 8
  You people scare me. You really do. There are too many of you, too many who know me and too many who lurk and too many who read and worry and take things personally. There is a narrow band in which I can write without revealing what I don’t want everyone to know. Mostly, this narrow band is self-imposed. I’m too timid to express my inner thoughts with confidence and impunity, so I keep them to myself. And so this blog turns into what I don’t want it to be: A diary of events rather than a journal of thoughts….
• September 14, 2005: Look at this || No. of Comments: 8
  Don’t I look like a stud in this photo? Baseball cap, long socks, completely non-homorific shorts, jersey that’s two sizes too big. I probably hit a grounder and was thrown out at first….
• September 12, 2005: The Other Side of the Lake || No. of Comments: 2
  Michigan’s Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse and Mackinac Bridge. This bird is home again after an unprecedented 10 days away from Minneapolis. And an even more unprecedented four days away from e-mail, and generally all things related to 21st century technology. It was a great vacation; one that is difficult to sum up succinctly. I spent the beginning of the week relaxing and doing really whatever I wanted: Getting my haircut, playing tennis, visiting family, giving my car a good waxing. For the first time in a few years I saw an ex-girlfriend from high school and met her husband….
• September 5, 2005: Minneapolis to Milwaukee to Michigan || No. of Comments: 4
  This photo of Justin sums up our weekend of playing softball in Milwaukee. We might as well have slept through our games. Out of four games on Saturday, we won a grand total of zero. We started again bright and early at 8 a.m. on Sunday and after making a conscious effort to NOT go out to the bars and sleep, we lost to a team of Canadian porn stars who still reeked of alcohol. Actually, porn stars isn’t accurate. Far too glamorous. A more accurate term is “icky boys who needed money for drugs and porn watchers aren’t…
• September 1, 2005: Missed Connection: Me || No. of Comments: 1
  I guess I asked for it: Of kids born into brothels and absentee bloggers… - m4m - 23 Setting: Gripping documentary watching, with occassional attempts at shuffling even closer to each other… perhaps followed by a damn fun makeout session… You: ridiculously beautiful eyes… all about the wordplay… Me: waiting to hear from you for round 2… Very impressive. You definitely earn points for creativity. After I return from my Great Lakes junket I’ll muster my emotional energy and pick up the phone….
• August 31, 2005: Missed Connection || No. of Comments: 1
  I love reading the “Missed Connections” listings on Craigslist. It’s a guilty pleasure, but not that guilty. I had to read this one twice. HunkyBoy, do you read these? - m4m - 35 It’s been so long since we were together. I moved to Miami, you continued on in school and the distance got the better of us. For years, I thought about you on a daily basis. We reconnected briefly, but we both were taken. I moved to NYC and we emailed each other again, but this time it was different. You told me your BF was upset about…
• August 29, 2005: The Nerve || No. of Comments: 8
  Did I say that I loved humanity? I think I did a little while ago. What I meant to say is that it’s wretched. Truly wretched. Especially when the door to our office is kicked in and our computers are stolen. In the past day, someone lay on the floor outside our elevators and with brute force blasted the door in. Rubber from their shoes remained on the door handle this morning like peanut butter remnants on a knife. Thankfully, I had taken my little iBook home for the weekend to commune with my little Powerbook. But, still, I must…
• August 28, 2005: Three entries in one. Or, Do re mi. || No. of Comments: 4
  The word Fa almost gave me the victory. Two letters cruising horizontal combined with the six letters falling vertical added up to mega Scrabble points for me. He was pissed. “Fa’s not a word!” “Yes it is! I swear it is.” “Look it up.” “The fourth tone of the diatonic scale.” “Damn it!” But in the end, even after adding a couple Ti’s — the seventh tone in the diatonic scale — he still beat me by 14. I’m OK with that, though. Sorta. —— This morning I went to church for the first time in months. Here’s my…
• August 26, 2005: The New Hood || No. of Comments: 6
  The strangest thing that happened in my old neighborhood was the streaker. Oh, and the twinkie tweaker who occasionally flitted around the neighborhood limp wristed and blown out of his mind. I never told you about him. At the new pad there unfortunately haven’t been any streakers. But there have been prostitutes. (Strolling the street at noon on a Saturday.) And the other night I was driving to pick up some soup at the grocery store (poor Aaron is sick) when a Hispanic dude and a black dude exchanged words and the Hispanic dude bashed in the back window of…
• August 21, 2005: Until Next Time || No. of Comments: 2
  Minnesota will be a little less vibrant just a few days from now when Josh and Josh leave their roots behind for a taste of New York. Though I’ve only met them in person a few times, I’m sad to see them go. Goodbyes are such a strange mix of selfish sadness and selfless excitement; I both love them and hate them. At least we had the chance to catch up this evening at Zelo (thanks to Ron, who supposedly makes a mean batch of cookies but that’s yet to be proven). Sparkles Dan joined us as well but…
• August 17, 2005: Tagged || No. of Comments: 8
  Byf tagged me. Normally I ignore such requests but it’s 5 p.m. and while I don’t want to do any more work, my bus doesn’t leave for another 10 minutes. So here you go. I’m skipping the final part, though, and not tagging other people (thank me later). The assignment: List five songs that you are currently digging — it doesn’t matter what genre they are from, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying right now. Post these instructions and the five songs (with artist) in your blog….
• August 15, 2005: Moving Day || No. of Comments: 8
  From dawn until dusk yesterday my roommate and I packed up every one of our belongings and moved them 13 blocks north. We filled boxes and bags and rubber totes and folded down the seats in my car and strapped things to the bed of his truck and moved moved moved. And now there is cardboard covering the kitchen floor of the new apartment because the landlords are still painting, but that’s OK because the landlords’ son, who is doing the work… Well, we don’t mind his presence. And the kitchen appliances are in the dining room and all our…
• August 12, 2005: Let Sleep Fall || No. of Comments: 5
  It pleases me to fall asleep exhausted every night. When my head hits the pillow and I’m immediately entering REM cycles, I know that — in some fashion — I’ve earned that rest. Usually, that’s how it is; my mama raised a good sleeper. Sometimes though… Sometimes it backfires and exhaustion keeps me awake out of spite. I think of all the things I still need to do at work and process everything that happened that day. It’s especially loud if I made a mistake earlier in the day, even a small mistake like forgetting to change the date on…
• August 11, 2005: Why do I look so depressed today? || No. of Comments: 4
  Take your pick: Because I’m at work.Because my feet look abnormally large.Because I’m wearing a pink shirt.Because I’m sitting alone on a couch.Because I missed the bus this morning by .5 seconds, or 2 steps, however you look at it.Because it’s raining. (No, wait, that’s good.)Because I’m at work. (No, really I don’t mind.)Because I was up late at focus groups and working on an HRC project.Because I have to move this weekend. No need to send me Wellbutrin, though. I’ll be just fine after some Caribou….
• August 10, 2005: Here’s Something for You to Do || No. of Comments: 0
  … and it doesn’t even involve the bar. Sarah, an Open Doors reader, e-mailed the other day to tell me about an upcoming concert by Emm Gryner, a Lilith-fair-like, Montreal-based independent singer and songwriter. You can find audio samples of her music on iTunes and other places around the Web. The best part of the show? It’s at Sarah’s house in Minneapolis. And… it’s free. I’ll be in Milwaukee that weekend, but you should check it out if possible. Great Lakes Living Room Tour featuring Emm Gryner, Jenny Choi and Hattie 8:30 p.m. Friday, September 2 Uptown area of…
• August 5, 2005: This Makes Me Happy || No. of Comments: 4
  True that this is the first time I met Josh H. and the second time I met Josh K. of Josh and Josh are Famous, but I’ll miss them after they move to NYC in a few weeks. I felt like I was getting my photo taken with celebrities. They ARE famous, you know. Their blog says so. Photo credit of a sweet girl that was with said Joshes. Forgive me for not remembering her name. I have that problem with women….
• August 4, 2005: What Did You Do at Work Today, Aaron? || No. of Comments: 9
  Nothing, really. Just wore my co-worker’s apron and washed some dirty dishes. Same as always, really….
• August 3, 2005: Cinema in Loring || No. of Comments: 4
  It was as if you invited a handful of people over for a movie and 1,000 showed up. But you didn’t care because they weren’t strangers, they were your friends, and so you simply compromised by moving the crowd to Loring Park, unfurling your blankets, removing your shoes to cool your hot toes, spreading out your crackers and drinks and dogs and gurgling babies, and settling in for a good James Dean flick. That’s how Monday was. The air cooled, humidity lifted and then fell again, dusk descended and Rebel Without a Cause was projected on a screen in front…
• August 2, 2005: It’s not Grand, but it’s Pleasant || No. of Comments: 12
  So you know how I moved to south Minneapolis in May? Well, I did. To a nice little apartment on aptly named Grand Avenue. And I like it there. I walk to the lakes, to some good coffeeshops (hooray for veggie burgers at Anodyne) and the streaker is an added benefit. Not that he’s been back, but the hope is still alive. Life was grand on Grand Avenue until a month ago when our landlords sold the building and we received word that they would be turning our apartment into a condo. Aka, get the hell out. (At this point,…
• August 2, 2005: Saying the Wrong Thing || No. of Comments: 2
  Maybe it’s because I’m entrenched in public-relations speak, but I often enjoy people who have a knack for saying the wrong thing. I cringe when the words fly, but it’s almost an enjoyable cringe. There is one person in particular who sometimes manages to offend even me with a marvelous lack of tact. Let’s call him Big Mouth. For example, last night we met some new people and Big Mouth’s first question was, “So what do you do?” The answer: “Well, nothing right now…” And his reply: “Oh, UNEMPLOYED! Scandalous! So are you living off the government?” “No, I’m living…
• August 1, 2005: Glam Rock and James Dean || No. of Comments: 2
  It’s late notice but if you’re free tonight and in the Minneapolis area, you should join me at Loring Park for Summer Music and Movies, sponsored by the Walker Art Center. On the schedule for this evening: 7 p.m. Melodious Owl. High school glam rock. Listen. 8:45-ish: Rebel Without a Cause. James Dean, of course. I’ve never seen this movie, which is sad. Tonight that will change. If you miss this week, maybe you can make it next Monday. (Though I don’t know if I’ll be there; that’s too far ahead to plan.) Here’s the full schedule. Oh, please bring…
• July 23, 2005: Anatomy of a Name || No. of Comments: 8
  When I was in the third grade, a new boy appeared in our school. I hated him automatically and totally. The reason was obvious: His name was Aaron. Until he arrived, I was the only Aaron in the whole elementary school. It was mine and it was special because who else was cool enough to start their name with two vowels? And then he arrived and took that away. Even worse, he defiled my name by spelling it Arron. What the…? It’s in the Bible! The older brother of Moses. A-a-r-o-n. Any other spelling is just plain wrong. It hasn’t…
• July 18, 2005: Guess Which One is my Girlfriend? || No. of Comments: 6
  Friday night I received an unexpected phone call from my friend and former co-worker Andrea who requested — no, insisted — that Matt and I meet her, her roommates and their in-town-from-Chicago-friends Drew and Liz, at the bar. (Drew is a homo, so of course we had to meet.) After a few pre-drinks at Boom, we headed to Spin, a local straight dance club that neither Matt nor I had experienced before. We obviously had a good time because we were still there, hot and sweaty and limbs all atangle, when the lights came on at closing time. The girls…
• July 11, 2005: Reach Your Hand || No. of Comments: 9
  “Reach your hand as far as it goes and I’ll reach mine. Do you suppose that we could make the world so small that there would be no walls at all?” Singing the above song was my favorite part of the morning when my family would attend my grandmother’s church. Partially I liked it because it signaled the end of the service, when we could rise out of the wooden pews and escape the small sanctuary, whose beautiful, bright stained-glass windows cast prismatic rainbows on the congregation. But also I liked it because it seemed a simple message of hope….
• July 7, 2005: OK, You’re Embarrassing Me || No. of Comments: 12
  This is the second week in a row that I’ve received flowers at my office. Last week I was in an intense meeting with the rest of the agency’s account team when the receptionist walked in with a fist full of flowers that I don’t know the name of and stuck them in front of me. Of course, the whole meeting stopped while everyone waited for me to open the card and see who it was from. There are absolutely no secrets in this office. The note said “Have a beautiful day.” The penmanship was almost as bad as my…
• July 5, 2005: Ahh, Summer… || No. of Comments: 5
  My definition of a good weekend is one in which you don’t have to do a single thing you don’t want to do. And that’s exactly what I did over the last four days. Here’s a recap of “Aaron’s Much Needed Weekend of Doing Whatever He Wants.” Friday Lunch with the wonderful Dunner, who graced the Midwest with his presence, if only for a weekend. While we munched on salads, the waiter (a friend of mine) came to our table and in a hushed voice said, “Do you know who’s at that table over there?” No, who? “Bo. Derek.” “Bo…
• July 3, 2005: At the Rodeo || No. of Comments: 5
  
• July 1, 2005: One Year Ago Today || No. of Comments: 9
  Happy blogiversary to me.
• June 30, 2005: My Summer of Love || No. of Comments: 0
  “My Summer of Love” certainly doesn’t describe my summer, but it is the title of a great movie I saw tonight. The characters are believable and complex, the story is intense and emotional, and the photography is beautiful. The movie’s characterization of born-again Christians was so spot-on it was painful for me to watch as an ex-born-again. It has a limited release in the U.S., but if it’s playing anywhere near you, make sure to check it out….
• June 29, 2005: That’s Right, Let the Sun Shine In || No. of Comments: 4
  Tonight as I sat on my front stoop, the brown bricks hard under me, lightning flashing in the dark sky and rain falling lightly in the eaves, I withdrew into myself — as I often do — to think and recharge. I almost missed the runner as he sprinted by on the sidewalk eight feet in front of me. But something caught my eye and I did a complete doubletake. That something was his bare white butt cheeks, twitching with every stride. Streakers DO exist! That’s even better than finding out Santa Claus is real. Especially if they’re all like…
• June 28, 2005: Cardboard Signs || No. of Comments: 7
  She held a cardboard sign in her hands and looked at me expectantly. Her brother stood nearby, wrung his hands and gave me the look of desperation, saying “Please!” I slowed the car and reached for my change. The brother, 11 or 12 years old, jumped up and down with joy. The girl put down her sign with its handdrawn advertisement — KOOL-AID 50¢ — and reached inside the cooler. “What kind of Kool-Aid is it?” I asked. “Watermelon kiwi!” the sister said as she handed me a styrofoam cup through my passenger-side window. I drove away with the first…
• June 26, 2005: Let’s Do it Differently Next Time || No. of Comments: 11
  Dan spotted me at the festival (with non-drunk but eyes-closed Matt) on Saturday. He somehow managed to take a photo but not say hello. Last year I avoided all Pride-related activities, minus watching my roommate play volleyball in the annual tourney. This year, however, I dove in face first and swam through seas of parties, people and booze. There were a few shining moments, like finally meeting Josh K., who has eyes that will stun you, a late-night swim with just a handful of friends after a long day, and Doug and Bill’s party, documented by Mighty. Mainly, though,…
• June 20, 2005: Afraid of the Dark || No. of Comments: 7
  Somewhere in the past year or two, I’ve become convinced that the boogeyman is coming to get me. I think it started two summers ago when two men tried to mug me in Chicago (I told them no and offered my pizza instead), and continued after stories from various friends who have been beaten, mugged or robbed. The icing on the cake (so far) was when my car was broken into a couple of months ago. I’m not quite ready to move into the suburbs and hide behind a barbed wire fence while stockpiling food and cherry bombs in my…
• June 19, 2005: It’s Not Blurry, It’s ‘Soft Focus’ || No. of Comments: 4
  And it’s not drunk, it’s “tipsy.”…
• June 16, 2005: I Like Free || No. of Comments: 9
  At least once a week, but usually twice, I withstand long lines just for the chance to gorge myself on a Chipotle burrito, or if I’m feeling guilty, I skip the tortilla and meat and get a veggie bowl. It’s so good, and so close to my office that I can’t resist. And, even better, I haven’t paid for a single meal at Chipotle in the last two months. It’s been free every time. Why? I have a burrito daddy. Whenever I get in line, we make eye contact, he behind the counter and I at the end of the…
• June 12, 2005: Skepticism and Glee || No. of Comments: 4
  
• June 12, 2005: Fly Fishing on Lake Harriet || No. of Comments: 0
  
• June 7, 2005: Green Thumb || No. of Comments: 5
  Flower shops are one of my favorite places to browse, along with chocolate shops and book stores. But. as much as I like plants, I’m a bad parent. A few weeks ago Nate gave me a huge ivy plant for my birthday. “You can’t kill ivy,” he said. Well, I proved him wrong. (Sorry, Nate.) Around the same time as I received the doomed ivy, my mom gave me a gift certificate to Smith & Hawken and suggested I buy an orchid. So, with tredipation, I did. Telling the saleswoman at Smith & Hawken it was my first orchid,…
• June 3, 2005: That One Song || No. of Comments: 3
  I don’t think “Rent” is that great of a show, but there’s just something about that one song. You know which one I mean. Watch this and tell me if it doesn’t hit you in the gut, too. Thanks to Kyle for the link….
• June 2, 2005: Daydreams || No. of Comments: 2
  I don’t daydream often, but when I do, it often involves me giving a public speech. If the truth is told, I frequently compose amazing oratories in my head. They inspire the audience — whether it’s my high school class, my friends, a loved one or an entire nation — to great things. Sometimes I even get a little choked up when imagining the content, the amazing delivery that is characterized by impeccable timing and tone, and the audience’s reaction. I think this penchant for thinking of myself as the next Winston Churchill is a result of the fact that…
• June 1, 2005: Goals. I do have them. || No. of Comments: 2
  The other day someone (whose name I won’t mention because you’re probably tired of hearing me talk about it) asked me what my goals were for the coming months. The answer I gave was less than satisfactory. It sounded something like this: “Well, uhhhhh. I don’t know. Ummmm. Gosh. That’s tough.” I felt ashamed of my lack of articulation, like I was a slacker kid with no ambitions or thoughts beyond what I’m going to wear tomorrow. The thing is that I do indeed have goals, but I don’t line them up with bullet points and charts for easy review….
• May 30, 2005: Toronto Photos Part Three || No. of Comments: 2
  I promise these are the last photos I’ll post from Toronto. Can you tell that our days consisted mainly of wandering the city and taking photos? It was perfect. After a quick flight (but a long delay), a back massage, a long walk and a nice drive, I’m feeling much better. I don’t know what these ladies were talking about, but I loved their animation. The old guy gave me the evil eye, but he must have decided I meant no harm because he didn’t beat me with his cane. Many of the city’s most interesting buildings were open to…
• May 30, 2005: Anguish || No. of Comments: 4
  Outside the airport terminal. Here we embrace and say goodbye under dark Canadian clouds that look just like dark Minneapolis clouds, and here they come, the tears that have been pushing and shoving against my eyes since we descended into the subway and zipped north and then west and then ascended again and boarded a bus that brought us here, to this place of eternal transition – hellos and goodbyes and handshakes and hugs. Hot streams run down my cheeks and I don’t care. Things are not the way I want them to be, not the way they should be,…
• May 29, 2005: Toronto, Penultimate || No. of Comments: 5
  If only I didn’t look so uncomfortable in this last photo, it would have been a good one. Maybe I was thinking that tomorrow it’s back to reality. Already….
• May 28, 2005: Toronto || No. of Comments: 4
  
• May 26, 2005: Hugest Rainbow Ever || No. of Comments: 2
  
• May 26, 2005: To the Land of Socialism and Maple Leaves || No. of Comments: 2
  Tomorrow afternoon I’m leaving the country. Sure, I’m planning to return on Monday, but you never know. I might decide Toronto would make a good home and pull a fast one on my life here. A nice, safe, pleasant socialist country that doesn’t think it needs to rule the world and everyone in it? It might be too difficult to leave. My camera will be in tow, so expect photos of Jose, me and Toronto, even if it is supposed to rain all weekend….
• May 25, 2005: Drawing Lines || No. of Comments: 1
  One of the biggest things I’m grateful for is that whenever I’m feeling like the world is against me (which isn’t THAT often), someone tells me to pull my head out and stop being so self-centered. But in a nice way. This time it was Jose (and I hope he doesn’t mind me sharing). Maybe this will do you some good, too: Whenever I feel down or defeated for whatever reason, I try to understand the insignificance of my existence and my so called problems. In reality, they are all transient no matter how terrible they seem. Life cannot be…
• May 25, 2005: Freeze || No. of Comments: 4
  I had to untuck my shirt this past weekend because my mom and sister were watching….
• May 25, 2005: Shelter || No. of Comments: 5
  This morning things hit rock bottom when I committed the ultimate embarrassment: I cried on the bus. As I sat by the window surrounded by quiet people lost in their own thoughts, hundreds of others driving alone in their cars and gray skies drizzling a light rain, the melancholy beauty of Ray LaMontagne’s voice amplified the melancholy-yet-hopeful lyrics of “Shelter,” untied the knot of my stomach and unburied tears: “Everything I have to give I’ll give to you… All of this around us’ll fall over I tell you what we’re gonna do You will shelter me, my love, And I…
• May 18, 2005: 24 || No. of Comments: 16
  Twenty-four years ago I decided that either I couldn’t wait to see what was out there or that I was tired of sharing a cramped space. So I pushed my sister ahead of me, and at 1:50 a.m. in Alma, Michigan, she arrived into the world, followed by me five minutes later. We were six weeks early and I weighed 4.5 lbs, which I think is almost less than the burrito I ate for lunch yesterday. We landed into the arms of Doctor Sonnad, who handed us to our scared-as-all-hell parents. The birth certificate I’m looking at now says that,…
• May 18, 2005: Swing || No. of Comments: 4
  I think this photo brings new meaning to “chicken legs.” Every week when I get up to bat, the umpire says, “I’m glad to see you’re wearing those pants again this week, Aaron.” Any time, Kenny. Any time. Photo courtesy of Greg….
• May 16, 2005: Skinny Dipping || No. of Comments: 3
  Saturday evening my friend Adam and I tiptoed out the door of the house I was staying at and onto the cold wood of the porch. Under the cover of darkness we slipped off the cover of the hot tub, turned on the jets, tossed aside our clothes and slid quickly into the 102-degree bubbles. After a solid week of rain, the air was cool and moist. While our bodies warmed up, steam from the water misted our faces. Low clouds moved quickly across the sky from right to left. The half moon illuminated the yard, where the white dog…
• May 16, 2005: Dog Days || No. of Comments: 3
  This past weekend I dog sat for some friends, which really just means that I squatted in their beautiful home for a couple of days and occasionally opened the door to let the animals out to relieve themselves in the bushes. One of the dogs — don’t ask me what kind she was but she was larger than a poodle and smaller than retriever and had long bangs — had terrible gas all weekend long. I felt like she should be ashamed of herself. It wasn’t just the smell, either, but the noise. The other dog (again, I don’t know…
• May 10, 2005: All Grief is Gone || No. of Comments: 3
  Somehow when I push the gas pedal and the turbocharger kicks into action, I forget all about losing my Corsica. I feel that this proves something deep and meaningful, but I don’t know what….
• May 5, 2005: Wash My Mouth Out with Soap and Kerosene || No. of Comments: 8
  I was dismayed to hear myself say it today when talking on the phone: “Yeah, I know.” But it wasn’t like that. It was more like: “Yah, I knoh.” Immediately I stopped talking and said to the person on the other line: “I’m so sorry. I just spoke with a Minnesota accent.” But it wasn’t like that. It was more like: “I’m soh sohrry. I just spohke with a Minnesohta ahccent.” The joke is on me. The skinny boy who makes fun of fatties is gaining weight himself. And quickly. Soon I will be sporting a coonskin cap and flannel….
• May 5, 2005: Reason No. 52 Why I Like My New Job || No. of Comments: 2
  Yesterday one of my co-workers brought the Cutest Dog Ever into the office for the day. All day long he laid in front of the receptionist’s desk with a bone under his mouth, greeting visitors and co-workers passing through. Occasionally he would explore the office and say hello until his owner gave a little whistle and he would go trotting back to the front. For potty breaks he went out the window and onto the roof where piddled two stories up from 5th Street….
• May 2, 2005: The Miles We’ve Travelled || No. of Comments: 12
  Goodbye to my old Corsica.
• May 1, 2005: Practically a New Life || No. of Comments: 8
  I’m sitting on my bed surrounded by bare cream-colored walls, boxes of stuff and piles of clothes. As I lean my back against the wall, my bed keeps sliding on the hardwood floors until my pillows fall on the floor. I don’t handle changes in my routines well. Especially big changes that affect my sense of home. My shoulders and neck are tense and I haven’t been able to sleep lately. Besides moving yesterday, I also added to the stress by buying my first car. (More on that in a separate entry.) Looking at it objectively, though, there have been…
• April 29, 2005: Go ahead || No. of Comments: 6
  Ask about my weekend plans. No, don’t, it’s OK. Really. I’ll just tell you. I’m moving this weekend to another area of the Twin Cities. Come tomorrow, I’ll be a legitimate Minneapolis resident, not just a suburban leech lingering just outside city limits. It’s true. To prove it, my car insurance has already increased. I hate moving, though. If I had a Top Ten list of things I hate to do, moving would be near the top. It takes too much time and planning and it’s just not fun. I hate it. But it will be worth it. As much…
• April 24, 2005: Three Years Later… || No. of Comments: 15
  Orlando, July 4, 2001: Swan-shaped paddle boats churned in the lake beside the Disney-owned pavilion. Crowds of people — families and teenagers and old folks — jockeyed for position on the edge of the lake, though there were still two hours before the fireworks were scheduled to begin. Radio stations broadcasted live from the back of vans, their loudspeakers fighting for attention. Jose and I wandered through the madness. It was the first time he witnessed Fourth of July festivities. As I remember, he wasn’t very impressed. “Americans are fat,” he said. Or something like that. Half an hour…
• April 22, 2005: I’m A Victim || No. of Comments: 11
  My car is broken into.
• April 20, 2005: Canada Bound || No. of Comments: 9
  Someone help me: Do I need a passport to travel to Canada this summer? Or will a birth certificate and driver’s license suffice (as it has in the past)?…
• April 19, 2005: Papal Smudge || No. of Comments: 5
  The world has a new pope. He’s grinning at me from the front of the New York Times now, his arms spread wide. I can’t decide if his smile is greedy or if it’s just cynics rearing its ugly head. His track record indicates he’s at least as conservative as his immediate predecessor. He certainly won’t be moving the church forward on issues of homosexuality or women in leadership. I’m sad for Catholics who tow the progressive line. Especially gay Catholics, of which there are many. I don’t know how they can justify supporting a church that does absolutely nothing…
• April 18, 2005: Finally || No. of Comments: 4
  Nine months after they stopped working correctly, I finally overhauled my photo galleries. I should be better at keeping it updated from now on. Maybe. Click here….
• April 15, 2005: T-Shirt Party, Part Deaux || No. of Comments: 3
  Photos from the random T-shirt party.
• April 13, 2005: People || No. of Comments: 3
  I feel like I live in a biodome, with temperature-controlled buildings and skyways and fragrant flower shops and manicured department stores and yummy restaurants. I never have to experience anything undesirable or uncomfortable, except for the occasional foul-smelling bum in the skyway. It’s… heaven? No, it’s not me. Give me the places where people are people and not perfect people, places where ugliness breeds, illuminating beauty and where we can see our need for relationships and our individual struggles with our own weaknesses and humanity. Church and steeple. Bar and backroom. Men sweating on men in dark rooms and roadside…
• April 13, 2005: Hotel || No. of Comments: 1
  Today I took a break from work and wandered through the skyways to Target where I picked up Moby’s new album, Hotel. After listening to it for the past hour or so, I have to say that I like. I especially like his liner notes and, like a Bible Study group sharing their favorite verses, I wanted to share some of it: Hotels fascinate me in that they’re incredibly intimate spaces that are scoured every 24 hours and made to look completely anonymous. people sleep in hotel rooms and cry in hotel rooms and bathe in hotel rooms and have…
• April 13, 2005: Even Adam Stepped in Dog Poop || No. of Comments: 7
  This entry has nothing to do with dog poop. It has to do with to-do about a T-shirt. A T-shirt party. A random T-shirt party. Which I attended sporting a shirt that featured a design so scandalous, so embarrassing, so horribly wrong that I can only link to it. Click at your own risk. It’s marginally SFW. (That’s “safe for work” for you internet-challenged readers.)…
• April 10, 2005: It’s the Stink || No. of Comments: 6
  It’s nice that all Minneapolis bars are smokefree now. But the bars still stink, and there isn’t anything to blame it on. Well, other than built-up tar and carbon monoxide clinging to the ceiling from years of Marlboros and Parliaments, the stinking rancor of attitude dropped on the floor by haughty gay men, the stench of sweat and Aqua Di Gio mingled and smeared on the dance floor, the burning plastic covers on colored lights reflecting off shiny backs and gelled hair. It’s the stink of lust, of silliness, of thousands of catty remarks. It’s the stink that clings to…
• April 5, 2005: Wait || No. of Comments: 3
  Someone important died?…
• March 31, 2005: This is What I Do || No. of Comments: 8
  Some people waste brain cells by drinking, smoking or inhaling. My brain cells — along with my entire youth — were wasted by the Information Superhighway. Thanks, Al Gore….
• March 31, 2005: New Kid on the Block || No. of Comments: 2
  My first day at the new job.
• March 27, 2005: Church || No. of Comments: 3
  We just got home from church with my grandma. Since I was born, I’ve been going to that small little church on special occasions, and nothing has changed, including attendees, music and choir robes. The average age is somewhere in the 60s, and everyone knows everyone and always has. People eat up the “request for prayer” time. It’s like a tabloid and the police blotter all in one. Tim fell of a 16-foot ladder the other day and needs prayer. Stephanie is having thyroid surgery and needs prayer. Jim had a heart attack and needs prayer. Mark is safe at…
• March 26, 2005: I’m Across the Lake in the Woods || No. of Comments: 5
  My mom bawled when she saw me walk down the stairs of our house this afternoon. She didn’t know I was coming home to Michigan for the weekend. “You stupid kid,” she said while hugging me, her face red and tears streaming. My dad didn’t know either. “Did you run out of money, ya dummy?” he said. “No, but I’m hungry!” I replied. “I’m going to shoot clay pigeons in the yard,” he replied to my reply. So out we went, my dad, brother, sister and sister’s fiancee to join my dad’s two friends on top of the snow-covered hill…
• March 25, 2005: Best Friends Forever || No. of Comments: 0
  Today is totally the last day of school when everyone signs your yearbook with emotionally wrought phrases you know aren’t true: “I’ll always remember you.” “BFF” “You’re the best!” “I love you!” Only I don’t play that game. I didn’t have anyone sign my yearbook because I knew I wouldn’t be seeing (almost) any of them again. And, at my last day of work here, I’m still not playing. Thanks and contact info has gone to the handful of people I will keep in touch with. The problem is that it’s expected for departing people to send an e-mail to…
• March 25, 2005: He Ruined It || No. of Comments: 2
  There were 16 minutes left on the meter I parked in front of this afternoon. That’s the equivalent of digging in your jeans pocket for chapstick and instead finding money you didn’t know was there. In one word: Glorious. I clutched my saved quarter in my tight little fist and shoved it in my jacket pocket. A block down from me a young guy stood staring at his meter, holding his credit card helplessly in his fist and patting his pockets, looking for a telltale lump that would say: “Look! Meter money is here!” As I walked by, I extended…
• March 23, 2005: Paper Trails || No. of Comments: 0
  Over the past few days I’ve slowly been cleaning out my “office” and have realized just how much of work is worthless. Literally worthless. Whole stacks of magazines or competitors’ literature or trade publications or files have gone directly from my desk to the recycle bin. No one will miss them. They are worthless. The few things I’m taking with me when I leave on Friday are mainly the things I brought with me a year and a half ago: A bamboo plant that transplanted with me from Chicago. A high school senior picture of my sister and me that…
• March 22, 2005: Love Yourself Some Chipotle? || No. of Comments: 3
  I eat Chipotle two or three times a week. Maybe I should reconsider that given these statistics from the Center for Science in the Public Interest: Chipotle’s Chicken Burrito (with black beans, rice, cheese, and salsa) weighs in at nearly 1,000 calories and 12 grams of saturated fat. Chipotle’s Vegetarian Burrito (with black beans, rice, cheese, guacamole, and salsa) weighs over a pound and provides 1,120 calories and three-quarters of a day’s worth of saturated fat (14 grams). Chipotle’s Barbacoa Burrito (with shredded beef, pinto beans, rice, cheese, guacamole, sour cream, and salsa) hits nearly 1,300 calories and three-quarters of…
• March 21, 2005: First Moment of Guilt || No. of Comments: 0
  I haven’t felt bad at all about leaving my current job. That is, until just now. After we wrapped up an interview with an editor, my client — an engineer — said to me, “I’m gonna miss ya, man.” Shucks. That gets to me….
• March 21, 2005: My New Career || No. of Comments: 1
  Elijah Wood lookalike. But only at certain angles, and only when you squint. I think I can swing it. Two of my co-workers stopped me this morning, called me over to their table, pointed at the newspaper and said, “We thought of you.” It was this picture:…
• March 20, 2005: I Hear It’s Called the ‘Port City’ || No. of Comments: 2
  The lights of Duluth didn’t sparkle beneath us last night as we crested a hill just outside the city. They didn’t sparkle so much as they emanated, glowing yellow and orange – the sulfurous color of factories and dank basements. In the coldness of March, worn out after a long winter, the Port City struggles to emit just enough light to keep people from getting lost and falling into Lake Superior. Giant black bodies of water and steep hills created tiers of lights and sudden areas of darkness. As we descended into the city, curving bridges carried us from…
• March 14, 2005: It’s Decided || No. of Comments: 11
  Make it official. In two weeks, I’m leaving the stability and austerity of a well-established, mid-size, respected PR agency with long-term clients, good health benefits, frequent wine gatherings and established processes and moving to a small creative advertising agency in downtown Minneapolis that offers the same pay, less benefits, more commuting expenses and less stability. And I’m sure it was the right decision. Because even with all the benefits of working at an established agency, with its set career path, it doesn’t make me satisfied. Or give me the opportunity for work I’m proud to showcase. It certainly doesn’t…
• March 13, 2005: Being an Adult Sucks || No. of Comments: 3
  A weekend passed with 86 percent of my time spent thinking about whether I should accept a job offer at an advertising agency in Minneapolis. Thirteen percent of the remaining time was spent seeking advice on said opportunity. The remaining one percent was consumed by losing at volleyball, a quick trip to IKEA, hanging out with an old friend/boyfriend and dinner with friends. Decisions decisions decisions….
• March 9, 2005: Kisses for Dennis || No. of Comments: 4
  
• March 7, 2005: Should I Feel Guilty? || No. of Comments: 12
  I picked on an old man.
• March 2, 2005: I Wasn’t Laughing || No. of Comments: 7
  My car doors froze shut. Dammit.
• February 28, 2005: Glamour || No. of Comments: 4
  Oscars on Ice. Here and gone.
• February 25, 2005: Dear Dribbler || No. of Comments: 8
  Stop peeing on the rim of the urinal.
• February 24, 2005: This is Why I Blog || No. of Comments: 2
  A nice IM.
• February 24, 2005: Silo City U.S.A. || No. of Comments: 2
  My supervisor asked for any individual experience we have with the agriculture industry. I don’t know if I have real “experience,” but I thought I would share my response.
• February 23, 2005: Back in Time || No. of Comments: 9
  Rollerskating.
• February 22, 2005: Sorry || No. of Comments: 6
  I’ve been a bad blogger.
• February 16, 2005: Razor please? || No. of Comments: 8
  Hair all over!
• February 14, 2005: February 14 || No. of Comments: 11
  
• February 13, 2005: I’m Home! || No. of Comments: 2
  Well, I’m back in Minnesota. Just as I was ready to post some entries from sunny Orlando, my work computer decided to die. Like really die. So, as a recap, here are a few highlights and lowlights from a couple days of work in Florida. Hi