Medical mystery

Four weeks ago, I started to feel a strange sensitivity on the left half of my body, roughly from my abdomen to my shoulder, extending from my naval to the center of my back. I woke up one morning, and it felt like I had a sunburn. I only felt the pain whenever something touched me, but little things like rolling over in bed or the friction of clothing as I walked were startlingly painful. I did my best not to move for two weeks, missing out on Folsom Street East and Gay Pride Weekend.

I saw a neurologist, to ascertain if I were neurotic, but his test of my reflexes was normal. He speculated the cause was a viral inflammation around my upper spine, near the neck, and that it would probably clear up on its own.

It took a few weeks, but it does at last appear to be improving. First it migrated partially to the right, which was worrisome. My right shoulder blade is still hurting, but everywhere else is far less sensitive than before. Test results from my physical last week indicate nothing out of order, which I guess is a relief. I'm astonished that I continue to have such healthy checkups yet feel so crappy most of the time. I'm a pitta vata and wear out easily.

I was to have an MRI, if my insurance company ever approves it, but I think I'll skip it. I had one four years ago after hitting my head in a fall. It was interesting but still unpleasant. I don't like a medical mystery, but the neurologist said the MRI could only confirm his suspicion, not establish a cause.

Music purchases to dwindle in 2008

I have decided not to buy anymore DRM-restricted music from iTunes, after several restricted tracks I purchased recently became available without DRM. One of them, a single from Santogold I purchased in May, showed up in my iTunes Plus "upgrade" page in June. I can think of only one reason for this music, which was released in April of this year, not to have been available as iTunes Plus in the first place: to exploit the 30% upgrade fee. That pisses me off, Santogold, and I won't be buying the rest of your album. This ripoff only cost me 30 cents, but a ripoff is a ripoff.

Ditto for El Perro del Mar's two albums, the latest of which came out in the spring with DRM, but by June was also miraculously free of it. I think I'll give her albums to anyone who asks. The new one is kind of boring, but free is free. I think her label can afford it, now that I've paid them $6 extra.

This upgrade policy has been worrying me for a while. When the major record labels finally allow their songs to sell DRM-free on iTunes, I'll have to pay hundreds of dollars to rid my library of DRM. Since Apple won't let you pick which ones to upgrade, nor simply remove the DRM from existing files, it makes no sense to me to keep buying tracks with DRM. I'm such an Apple fanboy that the DRM doesn't really keep me from doing anything I want to do with the music, but a ripoff is a ripoff.

And I won't go to Amazon or Rhapsody to buy music, either. If the record labels don't want to sell where I want to buy, then they lose the sale.

I disabled Flash in Safari

And I'm happier for it, because the browser never crashes now. Sorry, Gawker Media. Your advertisers drove me to this decision.

Oh, and the last thing I want on my iPhone is Flash.

Sent by iPhone

Hometown tragedy / Times have changed

There was a shooting spree at a plastics factory in my hometown of Henderson, Kentucky, this week that left six people dead. Details of the killer and his victims have been published in the Gleaner, the local newspaper, which now appears to be part of the Courier & Press, of neighboring Evansville, Indiana.

Tragic story. I wouldn’t be surprised to see crystal meth in the killer’s toxicology report. My mother says its use is rampant, though not perhaps to the same extent as marijuana. I was relieved not to recognize any of the names but surprised that so many of them were Hispanic. When I left Henderson, in 1989, there were very few Hispanics in the county. In fact, I’m not even sure I ever met a Latino until college, where I learned to say “Latino” instead of “Hispanic”. ( “Latino” is too vague for my liking but that’s a topic for another day.)

Picture this

On Monday I bought an Apple TV, a gizmo I had long eyed but could not persuade myself was necessary. I was sick at home over the weekend, searching in vain for anything slightly interesting on HD cable. One can endure only so many programs about house flipping and mega disasters before cracking. Since Time Warner Cable still isn’t offering any HD on demand programming, I felt the time had come for Apple TV. Synching up my limited video collection was an easy, if lengthy, process, and the quality of my non-HD iTunes purchases is decent, and certainly better than watching them on my laptop computer.

The true revelation of Apple TV is the photo browsing. Photos are far more compelling on a big screen, so much so that I have recropped a substantial portion of my iPhoto albums to the 9x16 ratio. Better still, the Flickr browser is astonishing. I have rediscovered my contacts’ photostreams, and I have a whole new appreciation for the efforts they’ve put into their photos. Those 500-pixel default views just don’t do justice to the photos. My only complaint is that the Flickr browser has no login authentication, as the YouTube browser does, so you can only view public photos.

Now I’m working on the slow and tedious process of ripping DVDs to MPEG4. Since my not-so-old DVD player kicked the bucket, I’ve been missing my AbFab videos.

Big. Easy.

The combination of a surprisingly cheap direct flight and very reasonable hotel rates made a trip to New Orleans over Labor Day a no-brainer. I’ve been really impulsive with travel this year. Now I just need some fabulous outfits and a friend or two to keep me company. The occasion, of course, is Southern Decadence.

Look out microbrews—or don't

I'm eager to try the six new varieties of Michelob being advertised in the subway, but they're not for sale anywhere in my neighborhood—nor even regular old Michelob. Weird. I hope they bundle them in a tasting six-pack, like Saranac's Trail Mix.

Release

I wrote to the organizers of Leather Pride Night, coming up in June, to ask about volunteering. They responded by sending me a model release form. It is expected that volunteers will also model the items up for auction. I didn't know this, and believe me, there's some stuff up for bid that's way more provocative than anything I'd normally wear. I was hoping just to set up some tables and chairs and shit.

In the morning or not at all

It amazes to no end when I walk into a restroom at some bar or club at night, and someone's in there taking a dump. Train your bowels, people.

Stimulated

That $600 economic stimulus grant from the government appeared in my checking account yesterday. Tempted to blow it on penny whistles and moon pies, but I spent that $600 months ago.

Retaining asparagus

It's 6:25 pm and I can still smell last night's dinner. Metabolism is definitely slowing.

The most wonderful time of the year

Passover in New York, and out comes the Mitzvah Tank. It's irresistible, unlike that measly Mitzvah Mobile.

Naughty beans

When I buy coffee beans at the Midtown Starbucks near my office, the
clerk asks if I want them "grounded." Because the beans have been
really bad? Or violated FAA safety regulations? English is crazy.

What's that smell?

Bryant Park station smells like someone took a massive dump and then threw up on it.

Bootie bumps

This article, about the risk of anal HPV infection among women, I found unintentionally hilarious. The author makes it sound like researchers are confounded by the rise in infection. You'd think none of them ever had sex with a male. I'll go out on a limb and suggests the increase in anal HPV is because the gals are getting F'd in the A.

Another reason I'm glad I left Manhunt

Hunters and Gatherers. It's damn funny, but I feel bad for some of those guys. Fun fact: I've been with two guys featured on the site.

Oh goodie

My copy of "Rendezvous with Rama" just arrived. I've meant to read
this for ages.

Sent from my iPhone

Happiness

Is a canceled staff meeting. Woohoo!

Sent from my iPhone

Black out

I attended the Black Party last weekend, and I did it sober, like a chump. See, I don't care for circuit parties, but I always forget this when March rolls around and the Black Party is all my friends talk about.

Getting ready for the Black Party is always fun: the shopping for something suitably slutty or "heavy," the grooming, and then the pre-Party parties. Lots of gays come to the city for the weekend, so there's a strange quality in the air. I thought of getting a new outfit, but one gets so hot and sweaty that most of it will end up checked or lost. I went with my old standby, leather chaps, and a mesh jock for easy access. As if.

Everybody I knew there took E, but I thought it would be amusing and helpful to take Viagra, which had come in very handy at my first Black Party. I had little need for it this time, as no one would touch me. I felt too skinny, too fat, too old, and overdressed in those chaps. It was nice to have a ready bulge all morning, but by 6:00, eyes throbbing and fingers swollen, I regretted it.

Further thoughts:

• Why were the creative DJs sequestered in the balcony while the thud-thud zombies got the main stage? I'm so over crystal meth dance music.
• Is there any way we can get a one-night suspension of the blue law prohibiting the sale of alcohol after 4:00 am?
• Did anything sensational happen after 7:30? Because not much did before.
• Did I miss the fabulous outfits? Everyone was either in jeans, jocks, or less. And harnesses of course. Easy on the eyes, but hardly fabulous.
• Must a dark room be pitch black? I prefer to see protuberances before they start poking at me, not that this was an issue.

Anyway, see you next year.

Singing surgeon

Got a postcard today from my proctologist, who is having a concert in April and invites me and my ass to attend. I knew she likes to sing while she works, but I had no idea it went beyond that. I think I'll go.

Don't even pretend you don't have a proctologist too.

Euro trashy

Friends of mine planning a European vacation invited me to tag along. This would give me the chance to attend Folsom Europe and spend some time in Berlin, which I have wanted to do but would never be brave enough to attempt on my own. It would also fit nicely with organizing all my vacations and travel this year around leather-themed events. This decision simplified travel planning immensely: as soon as I got back from MAL in January, I booked flights and hotels for IML in Chicago and Dore Alley in San Francisco.

That didn't take long

Grafitistas work fast.

I got picked up on Friday night

Literally, by this guy, at the Albatross Bar. Tall drunks always have a point to prove when there's a shorty like me in the house. Grotesque violation of my dignity aside, I kind of enjoyed it.

I have written off the Albatross more times than I can remember, and things were looking bleak during the overlong tenure of the last drag queen hostess, Vanessa Valtré, who delivered the same witless banter and performed the same tired songs week after disappointing week. She had nice wigs though, I'll grant her that.

Now Friday karaoke is in the capable hands of Jeremy Hovies, who understands the night isn't about him but rather the patrons. He sings better than Vanessa too. I've noticed that more people have been participating and that the night goes on longer since he took over.

A guy named Spyro performed Patti Smith's "Because the Night," which I thought was a splendid choice (I downloaded it the next day, after my hangover passed). He sang it as Cher might, which is the new trend in karaoke. I thought it was just the shtick of a certain Irish guy here in Astoria, who can perform any song in the key of Cher, but apparently it is a widespread phenomenon.

So I'm enjoying my neighborhood gay bar a lot more again, meaning I get shitfaced more often, and I guess that's a good thing.

I really missed blogging

Mostly for the benefits.