1:37pm

Walked past a group of boys, one of whom said in falsetto as I went by: it's a man! He was referring to something else, no doubt. Yep. Sure.

sometime after midnight

most girls don't take it up the ass on the first date.

2:25pm

Just saw a girl with a squid. Want a squid of my own. (Soon enough.)

sometime after midnight

My electrical issues have been fixed, and my desktop computer is not at all fried. Hooray for small miracles.

Before I left work today, I did the phone interview with the Pride guide publisher. Seems the Tranny Stage is getting a full page, focusing both on Tribe 8's presence and my own philosophies about the Stage. Jesus. Am I becoming a media figure? This is so frackin' weird.

Hung out with Rimma tonight, watching movies and cartoons and being pirates (arrrr!). At Sadie's now.

Her current role the is a personification of crystal meth in a play called Crystal Daze. I saw it this past Friday and really liked it. A particular actress caught my eye, playing the mother of a teenager girl. Mid-forties, long dark hair, slighly gaunt, lines around the eyes. After the show, Sadie introduced me to her. As soon as the actress was out of earshot, Sadie said: you totally like her, don't you? Damn, was I that obvious? Was it my body language or the stammery way I always get when complimenting a performer after a show? She assured me that it was just that she knows my type. One of them, anyway.

We hung out afterwards, and she decided to keep her character makeup on since it wasn't too different from what I was already wearing, pale skin and dark eyes and lips. That she was wearing leather pants and mine were shiny black helped with the twinning effect. After the sexworker blogging house party thing our energy level was waning, we decided to go to the Power Exchange anyway. She chose a filthy hippie boy (he looked to me like a reject for the role of Simon Zealotes from the Jesus Christ Superstar movie) and asked if he'd like a blowjob. I watched her, and it was quite possible the sexiest girl-on-boy action I've ever seen there, primarily because Sadie wasn't treating it as the usual anonymous cocksucking found at the Power Exchange, but was actually attempting to connect with the guy. She even got him to make noise and react, which is something the boys almost never do otherwise. The fact that she was somewhat butched out, looking (in her own words) like a naughty newsboy, made it all the hotter. Afterwards, another genetic femme who was there fucked the guy. Luckiest sonofabitch in the world, that filthy hippie.

Got to bed around four in the morning, and was up again at eight due to the rampaging giraffe. I showered, dressed, got gothed out and was ready to leave, only to succumb to an urge to clean the house. I finished up around noon, then decided to lay down on the bed for a while, ending up napping until two. Got a worried call from Vash; the electrical issues kept me offline, and I hadn't called. (She'd had a date with Dietrich on Friday night, and part of it was not being sure when that would be over.) I had a lot of work to do and considered finding a cafe to sit and write, but upon internally acknowledging that I was sad and lonely and depressed and missing Vash terribly and just in need of some form of human contact, I instead went to Sadie's Public Display of Affection event in Dolores Park, smack dab in the middle of the Cinco De Mayo festivities. Everyone else at PDA was wearing the suggested light colors, mostly combinations of pink and green. Me being me, I was all in black, a dead zone in the midst of the springtime hues, like the couch in the beginning of Safe. I engaged in some very low-key cuddlng with a girl who's attended Bad Movie Night a few times.

Vash called around six, and we hooked up at Flax. She was standing in line when I got there, looking utterly beautiful in a durndel over red fishnet, one of those moments where I fall in love with her all over again for the first and the gazillionth time. She fretted about not having any makeup on, but she simply does not need it, and something that moves me about her is just her face, how she looks as nature intended her, which is more than can be said for myself (or a number of other people I've dated, for that matter.) We went to an art opening she was in, though staying awake and energetic was proving to be a chore, nap or no nap, my late night and prolonged sun exposure and lack of bloodsugar due to a lack of appetite was catching up to me. After the show we spent the night together at the Black Light District, which was wonderful as always, the fact that the power was futzy notwithstanding. After breakfast on Sunday morning, we went to the Sunset Cafe to get some work done, then had an early dinner at the Old Mandarin Restaurant. She asked and I said yes, as I always do and probably always will to an offer to spend more time with her. It's all a gift, every moment. She made her escape back to Oakland before Bad Movie Night, because she's no fool.

The second of day of Bike Ed class is this Saturday. I'm very nervous about it. I have this goal, however, of feeling comfortable enough to ride to work by (wait for it) Bike to Work Day. I'm going to keep breathing either way. More plans of mine work out than don't, all things considered.

Submitted the Divas article for Eros to Thomas, and the deadline for "In the Shadow of the Valley" is a week from today. It'll be nice to not have my brain in that space anymore, at least not as often. Meanwhile, I think I've finally figured out the hook for my essay for The Penis Issue in June. It'll be different from anyone else's, I'm fairly sure of that.

can i ask you a question?

It was a kraut tourist standing in front of me. He'd already had that look about him which I didn't trust, for good reason. I removed my headphones ans told him to go ahead.

He asked: why do you look so...prepared? no, that's not the word...special. different. why do you look like that?

I knew exactly what he was asking, and in fact I did have a the battlegear on a bit more today than usual, even lipstick. That usually means I'm in a mood and/or not excepting to kiss anyone. But I couldn't make it that easy, could I? i don't understand the question.

He vaguely motioned to his face and said: the makeup. do you always wear it like that, so different? is there something special about today?

Everyone thinks it, he asks it. I replied: i like looking this way. this is how i look every day. Which was more true than not true. As I say, I was a bit more made up than usual. But it wasn't that far from off from how I look most days, from how I look if I have the time and energy. I expect I may be doing it more post-squid, and really, if I haven't outgrown the goth thing in the past eight years, it probably isn't going to be happening anytime soon.

i would never have the courage to go out looking like that. you must be so brave. Man oh man.

What remained conspicuously unspoken was where he put me genderwise. Was I so brave to be a tall boy with white makeup and thick cat-eye line and black lipstick and pigtailed, or just in general? I sure as hell wasn't going to ask, because I never, ever like the answers to some questions. Usually people tell me the answer without the question having to be asked. Again fibbing ever so slightly, I said: well, it's not that uncommon in san francisco. certain parts of town, certain clubs you can go to, there's lots of people who look like me. Yes and no. He agreed that he was not that familiar with San Francisco, thanked me for answering his questions, and turned around.

The enforced-fun work trip to Angel Island for today was postponed for a few weeks, but the booze was busted out all the same around half past three. Thankfully, I had a perfectly valid excuse for not standing around uncomfortably in the kitchen as I always do: I had to get to the LGBT Center for a meeting with a Pride bigwig. It went pretty well, all things considered. She seemed happy with my progress, my energy (I can slop on the charm when I need to), and the fact that my vision for the Trans Stage is a little different than most. Cool. My differentness seems to be a recurring theme today.

While I was at the Center—sitting in the office of the Executive Director of the Pride Celebration Cabal, of all places—I was approached by (someone whom I parse as) a young tranny boy who had been at the Power Exchange when Johanna and I went. Mustering up all of his courage, he asked me if she was my partner, saying that he'd wanted to ask at the time but didn't feel right. Fair enough. So funny the way circles converge.

I'm at the Citizen Cake in the Virgin Megastore, sitting on the ground in a corner with my trusty, beloved laptop. (I've been doing a good job not stressing about what may or may not have happened to my desktop system.) In a little while I'm going to The Exit to see Sadie's current play, after which we're going to a Sex Worker Blog House Party for the launch of Deepthroated, and from there, it's to the Power Exchange, where there will probably be many questions about whether she's my partner. I could probably take my mom there, and someone would probably pull me aside and ask if she's my girlfriend.

Next week, I have a date with the ex-wife of a friend. They'd been divorced since long before we met, so I don't feel any particular conflict about it. I met her at the Queer Open Mic last week, and when we spoke briefly on the phone today she mentioned where she works. Suddenly, it all fell into place (oh, that's why she looks so familiar), and I realized that I've had a very low-level crush on her for quite a few years now. It is, as I say, so funny the way circles converge.

7:35pm

There are endless worlds. Some don't welcome you, and some do. Honor them equally.

9:53pm

Crystal meth and I are twins.

So, naturally, he started talking to me: do you go to school?

Uh-oh. My typical blunt honesty when caught off guard: um, no. i don't. i graduated ten years ago.

i've seen you around. are you in the haight a lot?

None of his business. So: no. i work near the ballpark—I pointed in the general direction of it, in case he wasn't sure which ballpark I meant—but i spend a lot of time in the mission. Brilliant!

He introduced himself, so I shook his hand—initiated the handshake, for frack's sake—and said my name's sherilyn. Great. Wonderful. Terrific. Now the stalker knows my name and where I hang out a lot. At least I didn't say that I can usually be found at The Dark Room at eight on Sunday nights.

He leaned in closer and said: are you single, sherilyn?

Well, that was inevitable. I replied: no, i'm not. i'm in a relationship. i'm involved.

He wasn't so easily deterred, however: how involved?

very involved. Which was not a lie, or even an exaggeration. We may be open, but often I feel more involved with Vash than I've ever been with anyone else. Besides: indulgence, not compulsion.

He said: can i give you my card? if you're ever not so involved, i hope you'll think of me.

The last time someone I had no interest in whatsoever tried to give me their card (at Divas a month or two back), I took it, but in this case: that's very sweet of you to offer your card, but no thank you. i'll certainly keep you in mind if i'm ever not so involved. Man oh man. That's like a notch above want me to suck your cock now, or wait until we're out of the tunnel so there's more natural light?

I managed to put my headphones on and get out the printout I was editing ("In the Shadow of the Valley," probably going through it's eighty-fifth draft by now), and mostly was able to ignore him until he got off the train in the Inner Sunset. At times it felt like it was sitting a little closer than he ought, but then again, it was a packed train in rush hour. So there it is.