Mercury - Archived Blog Posts

[Mercury]

My entire job situation sucks. I just switched jobs from one retailer to another. I couldn't stand my old job because I was sick of doing 90% of the work and getting 0% of the credit. I didn't see the point in putting in any effort if all I get is more shit from above. So I did what anyone would, I switched jobs. Sounds rational but my new job is full of happy prozac people who actually take their job waaaay to seriously. Now I'm training in this foreign land of retail and I'm having a midlife crisis at 25. What the hell am I doing in suburbia hocking furniture when I'm a downtown kid who gets off on drag queens and books by David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs. I know the entire bibliography of Charles Bukowski, but now I'm sifting through 80 cushions to find a honey dijon denim ottman cushion. I'm actually considering returning to my old job in the bookstore even though at one point it caused me such an ulcer I was churning out enough acid to burn a hole in a ship's hull. But on the bright side it would be downtown and I would be working with people I actually like. Not to mention the beautiful boys, celebrity drop ins, and the recollection of my former self. Too bad the money's shit. But hey, what the hell am I going to spend it on when I work in the netherregions of society. Give me back my goths, drag queens, businessmen, homeless and crazy people. Be my muses once more!

 

[Mercury]

Everytime I sit down with a movie by Lars Von Trier I have to get hammered. When I'm at the video store I hear some screaming, dying, beaten and raped woman screaming at me from inside a DVD case. She's telling me she's going to make me cry and I've never really figured out why. What exactly did I do to Emily Watson, Bjork or Nicole Kidman? Bringing the DVD up to the counter is like admitting you like to make yourself cry because your life parallels the pointless tragic exhistence of women who live on the outskirts of humanity but contribute so much until it eventually kills them. I leanred my lesson after watching "Dancer in the Dark" at a second run movie theatre that Lars Von Trier has made it his mission to make you cry. I'm not going to spoil anything for anyone who hasn't seen these movies, but please they all reach a point where you have to scream out "This is too much". Overkill is a drastic understatement of what Baron Von Pity is trying to do with his movies. There's always one line that sets me off. Tell me if these sound familiar:

"He doesn't need to see some blind woman"

"Can I go? I have to figure out how I'm going to get into my house"

For anyone who knows what these lines refer to I equate them with the breaking moment where my compassion turns into impatience. I even start laughing because it gets so unbelievable. The continuity of the story is thrown out the window and replaced with the presentation of such a shitty situation that you want hurl yourself off a bridge. You get to see the biggest stars in Hollywood bare themselves on screen in the name of humiliation because humiliation inspires pity and pity inspires love. What next? 4 hours of Bette Middler being beaten, mamed and raped by the Olsen Twins, Reese Witherspoon and Orlando Bloom? Why even bother with the story at all. Show me pictures of disfigured babies and war torn countries. If you like Lars Von Trier then good for you, but Oh My God why are we crying? I'm a sucker, I rent them because of the emotional highs and lows but like a bad relationship after a while I wonder why I put up with it. Hey LArs, GO FUCK YOURSELF.

 

[Mercury]

Everytime I sit down with a movie by Lars Von Trier I have to get hammered. When I'm at the video store I hear some screaming, dying, beaten and raped woman screaming at me from inside a DVD case. She's telling me she's going to make me cry and I've never really figured out why. What exactly did I do to Emily Watson, Bjork or Nicole Kidman? Bringing the DVD up to the counter is like admitting you like to make yourself cry because your life parallels the pointless tragic exhistence of women who live on the outskirts of humanity but contribute so much until it eventually kills them. I leanred my lesson after watching "Dancer in the Dark" at a second run movie theatre that Lars Von Trier has made it his mission to make you cry. I'm not going to spoil anything for anyone who hasn't seen these movies, but please they all reach a point where you have to scream out "This is too much". Overkill is a drastic understatement of what Baron Von Pity is trying to do with his movies. There's always one line that sets me off. Tell me if these sound familiar:

"He doesn't need to see some blind woman"

"Can I go? I have to figure out how I'm going to get into my house"

For anyone who knows what these lines refer to I equate them with the breaking moment where my compassion turns into impatience. I even start laughing because it gets so unbelievable. The continuity of the story is thrown out the window and replaced with the presentation of such a shitty situation that you want hurl yourself off a bridge. You get to see the biggest stars in Hollywood bare themselves on screen in the name of humiliation because humiliation inspires pity and pity inspires love. What next? 4 hours of Bette Middler being beaten, mamed and raped by the Olsen Twins, Reese Witherspoon and Orlando Bloom? Why even bother with the story at all. Show me pictures of disfigured babies and war torn countries. If you like Lars Von Trier then good for you, but Oh My God why are we crying? I'm a sucker, I rent them because of the emotional highs and lows but like a bad relationship after a while I wonder why I put up with it. Hey LArs, GO FUCK YOURSELF.

 

[Mercury]

I'm watching this Rammstein song on Much Music right now. "Amerika" is the name. I don't understand the entire song because it is in German and I do not speak German. I'd like to speak German because then I could understand the video. But I don't think I have the patience to learn an entire language so I can listen to some German industrial Rock, fun as it may be. The only part in English is the refrain "We're all living in America, it's Wunderbar!" Okay so Wunderbar is in German but I think it means wonderful. Either that Or Chocolate bar with caramel and a cookie crunch. My superego is telling me it's the former, my Id wants it to be the latter. But I digress. As a Canadian I feel like I'm living in America. This election has been covered more widely than our own federal election last June. It does affect the entire world so it's true that we are all living in America. I don't know about it being Wunderbar. If I understood German than maybe I would know that the lyrics are actually sarcastic, kind of like Alanis Morissette's "8 easy steps". Leaders don't just smile when they are thinking of killing themselves and I'm pretty sure one of the defining characteristics of a leader isn't "staying stuck in glue by blaming you for everything." So I hope Rammstein is being sarcastic because this is neither wonderful nor is it chocolate coated. I don't want to spend another 4 years being snubbed by the states for nor joining the war bandwagon or for having lax border control (Shouldn't the U.S. be responsible for who they let in their country?). I will not endure more "Freedom Fries" jokes. I want to go back to our own Canadian Identity where 6 million political parties throw shoes at each other in Parliament and our version of evil was when Andrain Clarkson spent $5 million on a flight over the Antarctic to woo international delegates on a party plane catered by woolfgang puck or some shit. That would be Wunderbar.

 

[Mercury]

fuck

 

[Mercury]

Right now I am avoiding working on my latest story. I think it's going to be really good. I've already "written" it but I just got it back from a friend of mine who edited it for me. Ho hum, I hate thinking too hard on my writing because I'm scared of screwing it up if I get too wrapped up in making it the best thing I've ever written. On the plus side, I think it might be publishable. Ah well, time to stop doing laundry and cleaning and time to start re-writing.

 

[Mercury]

Christmas is upon me. So I'm totally feeling the stress of the holiday season now. It's compounded because I work in retail so It's hell 24/7. Today was the first official day of the barrage. I was stuck at cash for 4 hours straight. It's a miracle I can still see after squinting my eyes at the tiny monitor for so long. I wasn't even supposed to be there. I was supposed to be in charge of other people who were supposed to be there but only one of them was there. The other one left at 2. He sucks. No he doesn't he's nice, but still.

 

[Mercury]

I spent the entire night reading "The DaVinci Code". Woof. Normally when a book really hits the mainstream, I stay away from it. I call it my Oprah-effect. I used to work in a bookstore where the name Oprah envoked a lot of spite from the staff. Mostly because a book wasn't good until Oprah said it was, nevermind if the book was amazing before Oprah knew it existed. It's this entire "I'm gonna tell you what to think about what your reading" mentality and I'm of the position "If you can't think about it for yourself then why are you reading." But whatever, I've grown up a little, Writers need all the exposure they can get and as long as people are reading SOMETHING I'm happy. So anyway I read the Davinci code after avoiding it for a year and I was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. I can see the appeal for the book. Not only is it a well written thriller that makes you want to keep reading, it's full of great information. You're learning actually theories put out by some of History's greatest thinkers while closely following a well told story. It really is an ideal book. His theories about Christ and Mary Magdalene seem well supported, I'm in no position to say they are wrong, but they are theories. The thing is, these ideas aren't new. Anyone who has seen Kevin Smith's "Dogma" might be familiar with the same ideologies. Priory of Scion vs. the Last Scion. I don't remember anyone hailing Kevin Smith as the new God. The Church was just in a uproar over Alanis Morissette as God. Y'know the mroe I write this Blog, the less it makes sense. The point is to read the DaVinci Code. It's Good.

 

[Mercury]

So I decided to start my Christmas shopping today. A little late, I know but better than waiting a week before. I went into a million different stores and it seemed like they were all playing the SAME Christmas music. Now I work in retail and I am subject to the horrible CDs head office sends us every month, so I know what it's like to have customers complain about the music, but you can't do anything about it. The weird thing is, I think every retail store was sent THE SAME CD. In fact I don't think it ever changes. Last month, head office sent us our Christmas CDs and we had them on for 2 days before we decided we had to switch them because they were jsut too aweful. So we put in the Christmas CDs from last year, and it sounded like the same songs. Sure they shuffled the playlist around and replaced a few forgettable classics with a few more. But it was still Nat King Cole, Louis Prima, Dean Martin and Peggy Lee. And it's always the same songs. Not Jingle Bells, or Oh Holy Night. It's always "Baby it's cold outside", "Winter Wonderland", "Santa Baby" or some other horrid 1950s Christmas snooze anthem. You know it's bad when you wish someone would put on Mariah Carey's "All I want for Christmas is you" just to break the monotony. I thought it was just my store. But today every shop was playing the same shit over and over again. I go into Starbucks and hear Eartha Kitt purr "Santa Baby", I go into the Bay and hear Louis Prima and Keely Smith sing "Baby it's cold outside". The only artists on these CDs that are still alive are Harry Connick Jr and Macy Gray. I used to like the Harry Connick Jr. Christmas album but now I want to bust some heads everytime I hear his big band start in with Rudolf the Red-nosed reindeer. This was my one day off and I still can't escape this audio Christmas hell. Tomorrow I go back to work and I am going to have to have this shit pounded into my head yet again. Next time I go shopping I'm bringing my discman and playing some Bjork. At least she doesn't do Christmas.

 

[Mercury]

Ho hum another days in Paradise. My roommate and I decided to do a Christmas Newsletter this year. Her family does one every year and they're all so weird. Who really needs to know you visited aunt Phyllis and went fishing. So we decided to tweak the tradition and mention everything that went badly this year. It was a pretty bad year for both of us, so why not have a laugh at it. It was strangely cathatic. Since no one here knows exactly who I am (and I pray you don't find out) I see no reason to tell you what happened...except for the fact I slept with a university professor. I left that out of the newsletter. Now just to clarify he wasn't MY professor, I just hooked up with him and found out he teaches. Now all the people who are reading this who ARE professors are wondering if I'm talking about them. Yes, yes I am. Next year I'm gonna sleep with a cop. It's good to have goals.

 

[Mercury]

Today I got up late, about an hour before I had to be at work. I hadn't shaved in 3 days and I desperatly needed a shower. By some act of God I still managed to make it to work relatively on time (only 10 minutes late). But I didn't get my morning coffee. I know it sounds dumb, but I am seriously addicted to coffee. For the late 7 years Coffee has been a solid part of my daily routine, and I don't work in a coffee shop. I work in retail. I have to be peppy and full of energy to make the customers feel welcome, the employees feel like they're having fun and my boss who thinks I'm actually into what I do. Today I had nothing. No energy, I couldn't even focus. On top of it all I got a massive headache. for my lunch break I went and got some coffee but it was too late. The headache was there to stay and it only got worse. It wasn't until someone gave me 2 extra strength advil that the headache started to dissipate. I used to get headaches all the time as a kid. Growth spurts pulled the veins in the back of my head. I would pop advil like candy. But once I hit 18 the headaches went away. The only times I get them are when I've had no coffee or way too much coffee with no substantial food in my system. The no coffee headaches are the worst. I walk around in a daize all day. I don't smile, I can't even feign it. I'm not irritable, at least I don't think I am. I just want to everything to go away. I don't want to thank anyone for their concern or tough it out like a trooper. I'm not just going to ignore the pain. I seriously wanted to go home. But I couldn't. My job may not be much, but it is a living and if I want to go one living this glamourous life of mine, I have to suck it up. But today it was just sooooo hard. I don't know. I think I'm just rambling at this point. All I know is that tomorrow I'm getting up extra early to go and have a coffee at Starbucks before work. I don't mean that milky flavoured shit, I mean the biggest, most caffeinated thing on the menu.

 

[Mercury]

So it's time for me to actually publish something but it is not a book. I'm working on a piece for a magazine. Sometimes I have to dig deep down and pull out a story from my past and display it for the world to see. I'm fairly new at this writing thing but I think it's something I definitly want to pursue. I took a few classes and I think I've found a voice in print. In real life, there aren't too many people who take me seriously. I'm 25, work in retail and I follow oscar Wilde's advice. You have to take the serious things trivially and take the trivial things seriously. How else am I supposed to deal with growing up and all that. Writing is the one thing where I don't come accross as a complete moron. It's a chance to tell my stories to an audience that won't let me get derailed into making stupid jokes. I have this weekness in all my interactions with people where if I see an opening for a pun or joke I can't resist not taking it. It's funny...well usually. But people get this image of me where I'm just floating through life and I'm not really going to make much of myself because I can't "focus". I can focus and my writing is a place where I show that. I just want to get myself published so a wider market can see me as a more serious character. When they find out I'm borderline retarded (no offence intended) they'll know thats an act.

I'm working on this one story from my past. One of the greatest moments of my life where I knew who I was and where I stood in life. I think it's going to be good. I also think it has a good chance of getting published if I can ever get the damn thing finished.

All I know is that this is one thing where there is no doubt in my mind that it will happen. I'm not hoping I might be good at this, I'm waiting for my day in the sun. Hopefully, in 2005 I'll get that chance. But come Hell or High water it WILL happen.

 

[Mercury]

So like every other gay guy in Vancouver, I go to the gym. Not only do I go to the gym, I go to a gym that is predominantly gay. Not totally, but you can tell it's there. I used to be really hardcore and was going 5 days a week for 2 hours a session. I drank the protein shakes and everything with a minimum of build up. Over the summer I was really stressed and too tired to go so it kind of dropped off. Just this month I've started going a little mroe regularly. For some reason, it's easier for me to go during the winter. Well anyway mroe to the story, there's this guy who works in my neighborhood who is really cute. Anyway he goes to the same gym I do and I know he recognizes me. But I don't know if it's an "oh" reaction or an "ew" reaction.

Well today I went and he was there. I didn't know if he saw me or still found me interesting since I dropped most of my bulk. He was working out iwth a friend and doing some weird shit. His arms are HUGE, he's perfect and has one of those faces that are just adorable. He's tanned and just absolutly gorgeous. I know he showers after his workout because I've actually been in the shower room with him and he never brings a towel. He dries himself with disposable paper towels. Kind of weird but I think it's an exhibitionist thing. he steps outside the shower and does it infront of the mirror. He should be proud because he looks really good naked. Anyway today I was working out and finishing up my set and I saw. Kept stealing glances through the mirror at him when he wasn't looking. I stared at his tricepts, admired his ass and just wanted to squeeze his shoulders. I never talk to anyone at the gym, because it's my time to be ugly and self-ruminating. So I have never spoken to him. Besides his friend was there (possibly a romantic thing? I don't know. I've never seen him there with anyone before.). Anyway After I finished with the weights, I went upstairs to do some cardio. I worked my ass off and almost threw up. I was all gross and sweaty so I decided to go into the shower. Sure enough the minute I take off my pants everyone and their dog comes in, except for this guy (thank God). I go into the shower and rinse off the grime and I'm showering with 3 other guys and it was kind of erotic. One of the guys was really hairy but had a gorgeous dick. I think he wanted to pick up in there but I can't do that. At least not infront of the other people who went into the shower. My dick had a hard time staying down though, I kept burning myself with hot water just keep my cock from showing anyone else interest I had no intention of fulfilling. So I left the shower and towelled off. At his point a lot of people are in the locker room. I'm still kind of woozy from my battle with the eliptical trainer and I have problems getting my lock off the locker. I'm standing there naked and then finally I'm able to get in and put on some underwear. I'm semi erect at this point, but I don't care. I arranged my cock so that it kind of points to the side of my underwear instead of pointing down, because if it turns into a full blown erection it hurts if it has to fight through fabric. Anyway as I'm arranging my dick carefully in my underwear, hot boy's friend comes into the locker room and sees. Whatever, I don't care he saw me adjusting myself. It was just weird that he made a point to see I was there. Next thing I know I hear hot boy's voice and they're having this conversation. As I'm putting on clothes they sit at the bench accross from mine and just relax and chat, and drink water. They aren't looking at me, but it seemed like an odd display. I knew he would probably head into the shower next but I was obviously on my way out. Plus then, the hot hairy guy gets out of the sower and starts brushing his teeth totally nude. A little out pf place, sure but not totally bizarre. Until hot boy starts taking off his clothes, then Hairy guy goes back in the shower room. I just had to go. I gathered my stuff and left, but I am so looking forward to seeing him again. He's my gym crush. Now I have to go back to the gym hardcore and build up a body so I can flirt with more confidence. Maybe I'll say something. All I know about him is that he works at an adult video store near my place. I've never been in, but I buy coffee from the Starbucks near the video store. I should go in, but I just can't. Besides, this site provides me with more porn than I know what to do with.

 

[Mercury]

2005 is shaping up to be a good year. I'm only 2 days into it and already things are going well. I spent New years eve at a party where I met this guy who seemed kind of fun. My age, my height, believe me it is no easy feet to find this. I don't know, maybe it's because I'm tall that most gay guys seem short. Anyway on New Years eve I decided to follow through on a resolution and come out of my shell. Some of my friends have gone as far as calling me anti-social because I'm really not good at meeting new people. I feel a lot of pressure in this department. But on New Years I decided to fuck it and make the effort. Well I met a lot of people that night. I was drunk, so it was easy. Over the years I've learned where my limit is and I don't get embarrassing drunk. I turn into the fun drunk that makes the party worthwile going to. So I started talking to this guy and really started to enjoy his company. I think every gay guy can relate to me on this: Whenever you enter a party situation you scan the room to see who you want to 'get to know' and who you don't. You notice the people who stand out in your perception of type and you either make an effort to go meet them, or you clam up because you think there is no way in hell I am ever going to have a chance. Well on New Years eve I decided to take the high road and actually talk to someone I thought was cute. Bizarre concept, I know. He knows a few friends of mine, so I had no problem inviting him to a party 2 days later. Not only did I invite him, I held his hand and looked into his eyes and said "Please come to this party". It wasn't some bullshit "Oh there's this party and it'll be fun so you should check it out or whatever." I thought I would make my intentions slightly less ambiguous and say "Yes I would like it if you came to this party". So tonight was the party and it was small and very painful to sit through, but he showed up. I got to talking to him a little more and we seemed to have developed a rapport. At this point I would normally say "I don't want to make any assumptions but.." or "He seemed nice, I hope that...", but not this time. I'm not 18 any more. I've been around the block a few times. I can tell when someone's interest is peaked. Both of us waited out the part until it was just 5 of us. Him, me and 3 friends. When the host announced the fact that he was exhausted we decided to call it quits and he offered me a ride home. My house isn't exactly on his way home. It's a bit of a detour. I said I was just planning on taking a cab but he said it was no big deal so I agreed to let him take me home. So we got in the car and started talking about random shit but we could both tell we were talking around something. There was a definite pink elephant in the car but neither one of us knew how to broach the subject. At what point can you sneak in "I think you're interesting and would like to get to know you on a more personal level. Perhaps we could see each other naked in the foreseeable future."? I'm usually the guy who gets boyfriends by becoming friends with someone for a really long time or just getting naked on the first hour of intereaction. I don't "date" well. Well this time I was too uncomfortable to say what I want. By uncomfortable I don't mean nervous. I was completely at ease with him, I'm just not sure how to approach this. So he pulls up in front of my house and all I could do was invite him to another party. As it turns out the small circle of friends I have all have their birthdays at the same time. So another party was popping up. I wasn't just making excuses. Now the plans to this party were not concrete so I wasn't sure what I was inviting him to. So we exchanged numbers and I told him I would call him when I knew what exactly was happening. Then I went home and started typing this.

Come on, tell me this isn't something. I know the difference between starting something with a friend and starting something with something with someone who might be interested in you. It's that stage of something where a story might be starting and I have no idea where this story might lead. It's all about Anticipation, nerves and optimism. With each new boy that enters the mix, I wonder what this one will be like. How different will I be since the last one. What am I expecting. I'd like to think I've grown up over the years from dating and caring to much to dating and not caring at all. Maybe I'm at a point in my life where I can start to find the medium. Maybe and I let something play out and go with the flow rather than try to control it. whatever, I just want to see what happens.

 

[Mercury]

So over the next month I've got a lot of work to do. I have to get my application ready for school, I have to get my story published, I have to go back to the gym and get my body back and I have to basically get my life on track. I've been whining so long about life passing me by and this is the time where I have an opportunity to get it all back on track. I must finish my story. I think I'll go work on it now.

G'night.

 

[Mercury]

So I know I haven't updated this thing recently but I've been so uninspired. It figures that the month I have to do a lot of writing, I don't get it done. Mybe it's just the procrastinator in me. I always say tomorrow. Then I schedule drinks with someone, wake up at noon, "surf the net", watch some TV, have a shower and go for drinks. No writing. I've heard the hardest thing a writer has to do is actually sit down and write. So now it's rediculously early in the morning and I cna't sleep so I might as well write SOMETHING, even if it's not the next great Canadian Novel. But I wouldn't mind the Giller nomination if someone sees it fit.

I think there's a certain catharsis that happens when you purposely do something badly. I used to revel in doing stupid things jsut to say I've done them. I almost auditioned for Canadian Idol with my horrid singing voice just to say I did it. Luckily I had to work so I didn't. but all these silly things I've done have kept me from wondering "What if". Plus they make my life a little more interesting. I was reading some old Peanuts comic strips the other day and I ran accross one of them that had Snoopy writing a story that went like this:

"'This is madness' she cried. 'But I love you' he said"
then the paper flies out of the typewriter and Snoopy says "Even my typewriter hates my stories."

I'm picturing this scene in my head as this over-dramatic scene that just cracks me up. you can hear the intense violins in the background and a shattered vase on the floor. Who cares how they got to that point.

Or this one:

"It was a dark and stormy night. Suddenly, a shot rang out. A door slammed. The maid screamed. Suddenly a ship appeared on the the horizon. While millions of people were starving, the king lived in luxury. Meanwhile, on a small farm in Kansas, a boy was growing up."

-damn that's bad but soooo funny. Ahhhh Snoopy you are the cat's meow.

So here's my own version of terrible writing:

Scene:

Boy at a breakfast table eating his Cheerios while his mother sits on the other side of the table reading the newspaper.

Boy: Do you see me mother? Can you look above the hedge of your newspaper and gaze upon my face for a while. Laugh with me mother. Play with me. I cannot laugh. I have forgotten how. Look at me mother, am I not the child you bore into this world or would you rather I was a small piece of guck clinging to the end of a coat hanger? I weep, mother. I weep for you. I weep for me. If only I could find tears enough for us both. I wish upon a star every night that we could find each other. Maybe we could be happy for a while....but it is never to be. I cut myself mother, did you know? I cut myself because I love you too much.

Then the story would continue for another 3 hours. The mother, of course, would be silent throughout the entire play. She would just read the paper. I'm thinking the boy should be naked. God help the person who has to sit through this.

 

[Mercury]

I've been listening to the Scissor sisters quite a bit for the last week. There's this song that's called "Can't come quickly enough" and I just keep listening to it over and over again. The refrain goes like this:

It can't come quickly enough
and now you've spent your life waiting for this moment
and when you finally saw it come it passed you by
and left you so defeated

Every generation has it's heyday and I guess this is mine. I remember being one of those apathetic teens of the nineties who had little prospect for the future because of a failing economy. It wasn't enough to get a university education because there just weren't that many jobs available. Baby Boomers kept pressuring us to get a five year plan and struggle our way to the top but we just didn't care. It was pretty bleak. What ever happened to the apathy generation. Pop stars are getting younger and younger.Now it seems like there's so much possibility and optimism. You can hit it big with a fluke movie or article. I guess when we all graduated from High school and had to go out into the world and get jobs it forced us to actually live in the world than watch it go by. But what did this change in view ultimately do. I know several people who are still struggling to find themselves at age 25 or 35. We want that moment to come. That one moment we've been waiting for that makes us feel part of the world. But what exactly will that one moment be? A flash of fame? A small fortune? Will that change our lives? Probably not. We will still be the same people in the same skin with the same background. Take a look at Wynona Ryder. She was the postergirl of generation X. It's funny that one of her biggest movies was "Reality Bites" about woes of generation X and now she's a superstar with more money than she knows what to do with. She was nominated for 2 Oscars, has a star on the hollywood walk of fame and more money than she knows what to do with. Yet she still went and stole a couple of dresses. Maybe she's more like the characters she portrays than we think. She's always been the girl who can seem to live by society's standards. Mermaids, Reality Bites, Girl Interrupted, Beetlejuice, she's always been that girl. Now she's big, rich and a little older and well accepted in the Hollywood community. I'm trying to fight for something like that. I want my day in the sun but at the end of it, won't I still be the guy who sits at his computer left alone with his thoughts? Part of me never wants to make it. I want to keep fighting and pushing forward because it gives me something to do and a sense of purpose. I want to see generation X 10 years from now. I want to see the next generation take it's heyday so I can see exactly how generation X handled the shift of power. Let the kids raised in optimism inherit the earth. Generation X waited for the baby boomers to step aside so we could take the reigns and now that we have what has the apathy generation done to teach future generations? When we are pushed back into the periphery and our moment slipped away too fast.

 

[Mercury]

I went out for diner with some people last night, one of which I actually new. Whatever it was fun. anyway we somehow got on the subject of high school teachers and I heard some pretty amazing stories about some fucked up teachers. The only one I can remember is this crazy chemistry teacher I had. He was good at teacher chemistry when he actually did but he always felt the need to regale the class with stories of his youth. He once told us a weird story involving putting something flammable on his cat and lighting it. I didn't really get the story or why he was telling it. All I could do was laugh uncomfortably. The rest of the class just stopped paying attention all together but when he say I was laughing he seemed to direct the story at me. Then he just said the line "Well I put the gasoline on the cat, but not on it's tongue....ZOOM". What does that mean exactly. Did he light the cat's testicles on fire? Why did he do that? Then one day, while talking about the final exam he stated that we were allowed to bring food. My school had a strict policy of no food in the classroom. But for the exam we could bring coffee or fruit to keep our brains working. So the teacher told us that while we were allowed to bring food, we were not allowed to bring alcohol, but the policy left us room to wriggle. Why we would bring booze to the final, I don't know. In high school, everyone got drunk whenever they could. Students would escape to the bathroom during class and do shots so the prospect of someone getting loaded during the final was not a too much of a bizarre concept. Anyway he said we could bring an orange. That was important because if we got a syringe we could inject vodka into the orange hand have an instant screwdriver. That's great advice. I guess this was his way of having a "Tuesdays with Morrie" moment with the class. In life you have to smuggle a little alcohol. He had a big red nose so it wouldn't surprise me if he had an alcohol problem. We always thought he was some eccentric gay man because he was in his late forties, single, never showed any interest in women, never talked about women and had a penchant of wearing brightly coloured clothing that no straight man would ever be caught dead in. whatever, he was a great break from the norm so the class didn't mind him. He used to have lunch with one of the French teachers all the time and we always speculated that he had a crush on him. One day the French teacher came into the classroom while we were discussing equilibrium and said "Hey, I was wondering if we were still on for lunch." The Chem teacher said "Yes, yes we are on for lunch." Then he lost his train of thought and we were all looking at him accusingly. So he did a little dance and said "Hot date". The class kind of looked at each other in mild shock. What the hell had just happened? That was about as eccentric as my school got. We didn't have any teachers with severe depression, no one died throughout the year, no teacher had a breakdown and no teacher slept with the students. We were all pretty innocent. We just had a crazy eccentric gay guy who lit cats testicles on fires and drank like a fish teach us chemistry.

 

[Mercury]

It's time to move. Not just out of the same apartment I've been living in for far too long but out of this city. I'm feeling that same itch I felt the first time I moved away. I don't exactly like Vancouver. It's just a home base. I know everyone loves Vancouver. Beautiful backdrop, mild weather if you can stand the rain and people have had fun when they come to visit. Well boys, try living here. I've talked to a lot of people back east and they've attempted to move to Vancouver for the same reasons you propbably think it's fun, but you know what, they leave this stinkhole with a bitter taste in their mouth. This seems to have become a mecca for people from Edmonton and the Interior. Well of course this will look like a big city, but on so many levels it's really small. after 9pm the city starts to shut down so the only thing open are bars and clubs. If you don't like that scene, you're pretty well screwed. I don't know, I guess I feel more east coast than I do west coast. I used to talk to Americans who wanted to know what Vancouver was like. I told them it was like the L.A. of Canada. New Yorkers immediatly turned up their nose in disgust and Californians said "No it's way too cold." I love my friends and the people I know here but I have to get out. There's only so many times you can walk up and down Davie before it gets really old. Commercial is becoming too...Commercial. Main street is where all the interesting things happen, but you don't want to hang out there too long. Gastown is depressing and full of junkies. It infuriates me to walk down Robson because of the people traffic. Surrey is still Trashy, Richmond is still flat and boring, Burnaby has Metrotown which is evil in itself, Coquitlam is out in the middle of nowhere and nothing happens there anyway. Langley has too many wannabe cowboys and we do not live in the midwest. The farther you move from Downtown, the worse the scene gets. Plus this is not the social Utopia people think. We're now all up about the Andrew Webster death and gay bashing in Stanley Park is still going on. Not to mention the HUGE divide between the Asians and non-asians. I am unfortunate enough to work in a place that really does not like asians and I have to keep my mouth closed. There are no asians where I work and in Vancouver and that is so rare, something weird must be going on. So for anyone who is thinking about moving to this fair city be forwarned: The only people who are really happy here are the people who spent their entire lives here with the same people doing the same thing. If you want reinvention, move to the EAST!!!!!

 

[Mercury]

It's late and I'm tired. I should sleep but for some reason I can't. I think madness will ensue. I'm at that state where you're so tired it's like moving mount Everest to move you're limbs but you don't wanna fall asleep. I want to write and watch TV and whack off to porn but deep down I just want to snuggle up in my bedsheets and drift off to dreamland. I don't know why. I never remember my dreams. I don't think I do dream. I think sleep is when m brain just empties itself of all imagery because I think so much during the day. I daydream a lot. I imagine myself far away, coming home to a great boyfriend, having a martini and planning my trip to Italy. My makebelieve boyfriend and I had a rough start. We started off as roommates and he was straight. We had a bunch of great conversations about life and where we wanted to go in life. Then one day he comes home after having a fight with his girlfriend and I give him a hug to calm him down and he hugs me back. We stay that way for a while until we realize there is more to us than friendship. We kiss, go to the bedroom and have a night of wild sex. Then he has an identity crisis. He doesn't break up with his girlfriend because he's so commited to her. I lay in waiting, wanting him to do what will make him happy, even if it's without me but I also want him to give her up and embrace a new life. He moves out, I am heartbroken. He's good enough to try and stay friends. He gets engaged, I'm the best man. His fiancee has no idea what we did. At his bachelor party he looks at me in a drunken stupor and says "What might have been". Heartbroken I retreat into the bathroom feeling exillerated that he might have felt the same way I did, but sad that he's about marry someone else. The next morning I am dressed in my suit, ready to give the ring I wanted to wear away to the woman who is getting everything I wanted. A knock at the door and it him! "Come with me, let's just go. Let's just take off and go. Right now." We're in the limo that's supposed to be taking us to the church but it takes us to the airport. We go to the first airline counter we see and buy the first plane ticket avialable. In 15 minutes we leave for Brazil. When we arrive we jsut rent a car and drive anywhere. No guide books, just somewhere that's far enough away from where we were. We find a house in some remote jungle. It's for sale. He buys it and we live there. We stay for 3 months before I realize what he left behind. On the other side of the world is the life we left irresponsibly. We can't continue like this. We have to go back, but he doesn't want to. I convince him. We go, he has a lot to answer for. His family doesn't understand, his ex-fiancee won't talk to him. He blames me for bringing him back. He won't talk to me and we split up. We're both alone. I move to Toronto, carve out a niche for myself. I miss him. I don't want to move on but I have to. With great pains I make it through the day feeling guilty for leaving my little house of paradise in Brazil. It's all I think about. I hear from a friend that he's been swallowed up in gay life. He's dating anything and everything and it hurts more. I dont' feel special anymore. I feel left behind. Did I ever really matter to him. One night I'm going to a party by myself in hopes of finding someone to save me from the despair I feel, he's huddled on my doorstep. He's sobbing "I'm sorry, I just...I'm so sorry". The gay life is not what he expected. He tells me he spent the last year trying to live like he thought he was supposed to, but all he could think about was waking up in my arms. I hug him. Just like I did the night we first got together. We are home. I bring him inside, forget about going to the party and we lay down on the bed. His back is against my chest and my arms are reached around his from holding him until we both fall asleep. The next morning we wake up and without saying anything we both know we've found each other again. With no reservations or trust issues he moves in that day. We're home.

I make up better shit than my unconscious brain does. Isnt' that better than dreaming you're a shoe made of porridge shopping for a VCR? Because that's the kind of stuff you get when you're unconscious.