Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Burning Skin.


Last week, I went to see my doctor, complaining about skin irritation that had started to spread as the result of a shot that I'd received the previous week.  Initially, the irritation was only on my right butt cheek and groin area.  My doctor gave me an examination, had me fill out a bunch of survey questions and told me simply to apply some hydrocortisone and the problem should go away in about a week or so.  
"If this doesn't work," he said.  "Call me and we'll figure out what our next step should be." 
Last night, I awoke frantically scratching and clawing at my upper arms.  Even before I removed my shirt, I could feel the small red bumps, which appeared to be taking over the upper part of my body.  Trying not to panic at 4 o'clock in the morning, I calmed down enough to allow myself to fall back so sleep--promising then to call my doctor in the morning.  This morning, after I'd gotten out of the shower, I inspected my upper body and confirmed what I'd felt while in bed.  My chest, shoulders, arms and stomach were now covered with small red bumps.
And they itched like hell!   
I stood in front of the mirror, afraid to move but at the same time afraid to look away.  It looked as if I had measles or chicken pox.  When I could no longer bear to look at myself in the mirror, I ran into the bedroom and called my doctor.  
I tried to remain calm while I spoke with the nurse and described to her how the allergic reaction had now spread from the lower part of my body to the upper region. 
"Are you taking any other medications?" The nurse asked.  When I told her no, she placed me on hold while she went to find my doctor.  Minutes later, she was back on the line.  
"Okay," she said, sounding a bit out of breath.  "The doctor wants you to stop applying the hydrocortisone and instead start applying calamine lotion to stop the itch.  If the rash continues to spread, we'll have you come in on Monday." 
Monday?!  What was I supposed to do until then?  I understood the Thanksgiving holiday was coming and sure, I was aware that the office would be closed but--here I was trying desperately not to scratch my outer layer of skin and now the nurse was telling me that I would have to wait until Monday before I could see the doctor.  
ARGH!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Bums.


Arriving almost 15 minutes early for my doctor's appointment, I was sitting outside in the courtyard, smoking a cigarette before going in to meet Dr. Morris.  Keeping my eye on the time while at the same time, puffing on the Newport, I eyed the man coming towards me.  I already knew what he wanted.   In fact, I was ready with my response as soon as the words came out of his mouth.  Check out this little exchange.
"Say bro,"  he started. "You have another cigarette on you?" 
See!  I knew that's what he wanted.  What's more, I hate being called 'bro' by anyone, but it's usually vagrants who like to use that slang-ish term of endearment.
"No, man.  This is it."  I said, holding the half-smoked cigarette up for him to inspect.  With a loud huff, he walked inside the medical building.  
Only to return a few seconds later.  
"Well, could you save some of it for me?" The bum asked.  What was wrong with this dude?   From my seat, I eyed him and began, "I'd kinda like to enjoy this smoke by myself." 
But that wasn't enough for him.  Frustrated that I wasn't willing to share my cigarette--and no, it wasn't the last one, but I wasn't telling him that-- the scraggly vagrant spat one last remark at me.  
"That's okay," he began.  "God hates greedy people."  He said that and disappeared around the building.   
So now, I'm greedy?  Who would've thought?

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Who needs an education?







For as long as I can remember, I've always had a fond relationship with public libraries.  I can still recall receiving my first library card to the W. Walworth Harrison Public Library in Greenville, Texas in 1982.  I think it was the librarian telling me, as she put the card in my young hands that, with [that] card, I could come, read and check out any of the books that were on the shelves.  
And boy did I?!  I love the fact that a public library is one of the few public places where you're supposed to be quiet, where you're surrounded by books and you're in the company of others who love reading and books as much as you do.  
There are some beautiful libraries in San Diego.   Some of the branches, while older than others, are more comfortable to be in.   The University Heights branch, where my bike wheel was stolen, while its a small branch, is very quiet and soothing.   Then there are those, such as the Mission Valley branch, whose large open areas and ample lighting provide the perfect atmosphere for getting lost in a good book, a great magazine or--if you're like me,  pillaging through the archives of whatever I can think of.   The Coronado and Scripps Ranch branches are so beautiful and well worth visiting.  
Now having written all of that, one can only imagine my frustration and disappointment with the public library in City Heights.  The building is fairly new and the accommodations are excellent.  The building sits in the heart of City Heights and is an anchor for the Performing Arts complex.  The library is also a quick bike ride or bus trip away from Will's house.  It's also where I've spent a few afternoons.  This evening, sitting at one of the partitioned tables, I noticed all of the graffiti which was scrawled on just about everything!  But it was this one particular table which caught my eye and I knew I had to photograph it.  
If there's ever been any doubt that my wanting to be a teacher wasn't a good idea, it was squashed after reading what some kid had written.  And in the library of all places.
Anyone who reads dis [sic] shit is a assholel [sic]!
I can't get back in school fast enough.  



Monday, November 17, 2008

Back where I belong.


As of this afternoon, it became official that I was indeed set on keeping the promise that I'd made to myself about going back to school once the Spring semester started.  Sunday night, I'd spent half an hour trying to organize a schedule that would allow me to take at least three classes, but at the same time I could only take the three twice a week rather than full time like in the past.  
This afternoon, I didn't hesitate signing up for my classes and now its just a matter of getting down to City College and paying my representation fees.  So it's official:  whether I'm homeless, broke and unemployed or not, my ass is back in school come January.  
I can't wait. 

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Great day for a march.


It turned out to be a beautiful day here in San Diego, making it the perfect day for a march.  Along with most major cities, San Diego was hosting its own march against Proposition 8.  According to rumors, over 25,000 people showed up (ranking San Diego number one in the largest number of marchers that marched yesterday) in protest of the proposition that passed back on November 4th.  I'll admit, even I was shocked that so many friends and neighbors turned out to march from Balboa Park to the administration building downtown.  What was even more spectacular was the fact that not all of us were gay.  Just as many straight people showed up, armed with signs, whistles, dogs and whatever.  It was great.  I saw a few friends, old neighbors and spent most of the march, walking alongside John, Wes and Lee.  
I guess this turned out to be the best day to reconnect with old exes too.  In addition to hanging with the present ex (John), I ran into another ex later in the afternoon.   Long after the march had ended and I'd commuted back to Hillcrest from downtown to retrieve my bike, I ran into Raymond, while browsing the racks at Buffalo Exchange.  We stood, talking and looking through the racks of second hand clothes and finally ended up having lunch together.  
All in all, it was a great day for a march.  I voted against Proposition 8 and I'm almost certain that the people that I know did as well, but still I shudder to think that there are those who voted in support of it.  
Here's some pics from the march.  

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

YES WE DID!

Lucy emailed this to me today.  

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Election Day


Hell yeah, I voted!  I hope you did also. 

Monday, November 3, 2008

LOST.


Wanna know how to make a 34 year old gay man cry?
Take away his Prada sunglasses.  
I have no idea where I left them.  Frantically, I searched through all of my things and looked high and low in Will's house, but for the life of me, I have no idea where I left my sunglasses.  It would be easy for me to call it karma, but I know that I would never absent-mindedly leave my sunglasses anywhere.  What's worse is now whenever I'm on the bus or walking around town, I'm forced to look at people rather than hide my eyes behind the big wraparound that I've come to love so much.  I refuse to give up the search.
I'll keep you posted.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Chocolate Milk.

Happy Halloween!

Rich, Chuck, Will, April, James and me as the Chocolate Cow.