Here 'tis, the annual Thanksgiving Week Bow Tie Tuesday.
It's a lot like the other Bow Tie Tuesdays.
This particular one, though, I'm stoked that I'm about to get not only the fangirl auction jumpsuit I have coming but also the new Google gaming controller/system, Stadia, which I impulsively decided to treat myself to when a teaser link about it popped up on the Google homepage the other morning.
If you'd asked young me---who very much wanted the $99 "Odyssey" system that Radio Shack was selling (probably Pong and not much more) (wait lemme look) (hmm... the first one had just tennis and hockey) and understood that a hundred dollars was a whole lot of money but had gotten hooked on a proto-video-game dart thing at a pizza place with the family once and would later become totally enamored of Space Invaders (Deluxe)--- if you'd asked that young me to imagine how involved I'd be in video game stuff as an adult, in a future with lots of games and systems available, and then you'd revealed that I'd mostly have a second-generation Game Boy and not much more until I was well into my 50s, I'd have been shocked. Some of it is probably that I've never much gotten into the shoot-'em-up games, or the things-hitting-things-imprecisely ones. But, still, I think I'm due. And it looks like some of the games will appeal to me. Farming simulation; packing; maybe football coaching; some unusual-style others. I shall have to read more.
I've been gifting myself a lot of late. Prints for the walls to finish out my lavendar wall of prints, which used to be my eggshell wall of record covers. A reservation for GALA, and one for a room for the Nitrate Film Fest, with plans to buy a pass for that when they go on sale (and plans, too, aside, to see if one or two back-east people wanna meet up with me there). A coupla Bernie babies, and some dutiful things like an oil change and new bras. Not to mention the anal gland expressing for Manifesto the other day that came along with bad news about his teeth, a blood draw to see if he can be put out to be treated for that, and the detection of a heart murmur that suggests maybe not--- but there the hope is that I'll get to spend a lot of money to have his at-least-2 bad teeth fixed/pulled. Now I'll be buying games for Stadia, too, no doubt. And maybe faster internet.
But, see, I'm all old, and I'm trying to be balanced about fiscal responsibility vs. letting myself go for things I want, and therefore letting myself, more easily, when I do let myself.
Hey, another cool today thing: I got asked to give an open talk in January. I've never done that before. I have 10 years, so I reckon I oughta have plenty to say by now, but it's going to be interesting, casting my mind back and meditating on what it used to be like, what happened, and what it's like now. You know, to try to find some coherent threads I can lay out for others. It's a queer-specific audience, which is especially nice, but sorta more intimidating to me, for some reason. Or more challenging, maybe. Could be cuz I don't muse on the queer-specific challenges in the y'all-know-what-I-mean way in regular sharing. Could be cuz it feels like maybe somehow it matters just a little bit more.
But I got a taste of talking to a buncha mostly-queers at that cabaret thing for the chorus recently, deciding on the spur of the moment to throw in my therapist's joke, crediting it to her (and thus outting myself as in therapy). I'd told her my song got chosen, and that we were going to be doing it along with a coupla songs others were doing about a more contemporary version of the crush on the person serving you (the Taylor the Latte Boy pair), but that my song was from an earlier time, and things work out differently/better in 7-11 Girl--- it stays a crush from afar. So she said something about how lesbians have better boundaries. And we chuckled, as if smug. But when I threw it in to the crowd before singing, I hastened to add (after a little trash-talk gesturing when it prompted an "ooh!") that of course it's entirely untrue, and made reference to the famous U-Haul joke. Now as I recall the feeling of talking to that crowd that way, and something warm about it, it makes me feel out of touch with the queers in general, somehow, compared to the old days. I mean, in the early old days I wasn't YET in touch with 'em, despite spending time in queer bars and having a gf and a handful of queer buds. But, you know, "community"-wise in touch.
I don't know what I'm going on about here, exactly. It has to do with I Like The Queers.
A former friend of mine called Ericka once said she was a nerd among queers and I was a queer among nerds, or words to that effect. Like where we were both nerds and queers, but in different milieus that way. (I bet that's not the French plural.) Of course she also said my superhero identity would be The Ruminator, and I don't much care for that, however true it is. Probably because of how true it is. But also: where's the superpower in that? Seems wholly debilitating, to me.
So anyway, to wrap up, I have various things coming together to look forward to, in both the very near future and the slightly less near future. I recommend assembling such things for yourself if you don't have 'em just now.