Justin's Life... July 3rd - 10th, 1999


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July 3, 1999 - Saturday

9:38AM

I haven't really written about much lately, but that's not to indicate I'm not busy.
In short, I've been spending most of my time:

Relearning French

When I went to Boston U., the foreign language requirement for my major (Communication) was two college semesters or the equivalent. I took the placement test there, tested into the second semester, and finished the requirement.
When I transferred to USC, the foreign language requirement was three college semesters or the equivalent. Knowing that I'd forgotten a lot during my year off from school (and that a placement test was required irregardless of transferred units), I opted to wait until the last possible time to take French again. So I'm now, through a CD-ROM set, relearning French to hopefully place in the third semester class or test out of it completely. Worse case scenario, I take the placement test and am gauged at the second semester level... which could mean that I have to spend a whole 'nuther semester taking French. (But I don't think that's going to happen.)
So, at three chapters a week, I'm spending a good chunk of time relearning French... et je la deteste.

Redesigning the site

About once every two years, I redesign the site from the ground up. This time I'm going overboard and JustinsLife.com is becoming its own sub site... as is one currently planned at RedHeadedMen.com. I had hoped to have JustinsLife.com completed by now, but it's still a week or so away. (And I'm fairly certain no part (no sub sites) will debut until the complete redesign is finished.)
In short, that means that I'll still be engulfed for a while before any visible changes are seen here.

Working with a programmer for my new business

Several entire mornings, afternoons, or evenings are spent reviewing the temporarily-fired programmer's progress and writing detailed responses about what needs to be changed.
It's theoretically supposed to be finished in two weeks, which I doubt, but progress is being made and he seems to be understanding the concept.

Not the most interesting stuff to write about here, but a big part of my life lately nonetheless.

July 4, 1999 - Sunday - Independence Day

2:00PM

Friday afternoon, Larry, Kathleen (a friend of Larry's in the music industry whom I've mentioned before), Katie, Spencer, and I headed towards the ranch for a relaxing Fourth Of July weekend. I drove the van with the kids while Larry drove Kathleen's car, so I spent most of the trip being aggravated by the stop-and-go holiday traffic and just thinking about various odds and ends.

When we finally arrived in town, about one and a half times the normal trip time later, we stopped at the grocery store before going on to the house... and to be honest, I was a tad intimidated shopping with Kathleen. I don't really find myself intimidated/embarrassed that often, especially not about trivial stuff like grocery shopping, but Kathleen's all of 105 pounds, if that, and she just has an heir about her. She wears $2000 outfits and deals with the likes of Mariah Carey. Not snooty, but sophisticated... and my penchant for artificially flavored foods isn't "sophisticated" to say the least.

Even worse, I was in the mood for hardcore unhealthy/junk food... stuff like bacon. So, at first I got a loaf of white bread and returned to the cart with a packet of pre-sliced turkey. While not "healthy", it wasn't "junk", so I put it in without too much hesitation.

I walked around the store with everyone and the cart for a few aisles then left again... back to the bacon aisle. Bacon was what I really wanted... so I looked at it, picked a package up, put it back, walked around a bit... then eventually just decided what the heck and took a pack back to the cart. The world did not end. The grocery store did not get hit by lightning. Nothing unusual happened, and I dare say that Kathleen couldn't have cared less.

I think coming out is a similar process. I knew what I really wanted, but I was afraid of what someone would think. I went through my virtual "bisexual" phase (which a lot of guys go through before deciding that they're indeed gay) where I picked up the bread and turkey. I knew it wasn't what Kathleen would eat, but I knew it wasn't too much of a deviation. And then I hesitated with bacon for a bit before finally just deciding to go for it... and when I went for it, no one cared.

My fear of admitting that I wanted the bacon may seem pretty stupid to me now... but I know it was real, and I know that I kept that fear even a bit after I put it in the cart. Do you realize how crazy that is? How I was worried that my wanting bacon would make her disapprove of me? Yet coming out really is similar in more ways than most non-out gay guys would believe. Sure, no one's ever gotten beaten up because of eating bacon, but the number of times gay guys have come out to the number of times they've gotten beaten up is infinitesimal.

Anyway, I hadn't intended on writing that here or even on making a point... and I didn't even realize it until I wrote it now. I was more going to focus on the pool and stealth bomber flybys which happened the next day. But it is something to think about.

3:30PM

Early yesterday morning, Larry, Katie, Spencer, Kathleen, and I gathered on the deck to watch the stealth bombers that were scheduled to fly through the valley. I had doubts as to whether they'd actually appear, as I'd heard that all sorts of air shows involving military planes had been indefinitely suspended after a not too long ago crash. Yet, not five minutes after we went outside, we began to hear a roar and soon saw:

Actually, there were two of them, and they flew around the valley perimeter and quickly by the house before disappearing along the horizon. Larry was impressed with the precision maneuverability, but all I could think was that I'd be really scared if I were in Kosovo or the like and saw/heard them flying overhead.

5:19PM

Yesterday afternoon, Larry said he was going to take Spencer and Katie to the pool while Kathleen took a nap. Normally, I always stay here at the house (to take a break from family life) when he goes to the pool with them, but as I didn't get my normal two hours of talking during the drive here and as I hadn't seen him much without Kathleen, I said that I'd come along if he wanted.

So the four of us went to the pool, and Katie swam while Larry and I sat with Spencer along the side. Yet as nothing terribly interesting/new has been happening lately, I didn't really have anything that I needed to tell him (as I pretty much tell him which French lesson I did and what happened with the programmer on a daily basis). Instead we placated Katie's "Watch me do this..." need and observed the scenery as we intermittently talked about nothing in particular.

That said, in particular, we noticed a lady at the pool who was showcasing her wares in a metallic orange swimsuit and a group of high school age kids clustered in the pool.

Most of the high school age kids were guys, but a couple girls were there as well, so the guys were showing off. As the cluster moved from our side of the pool to the other, I heard one guy say something about getting a blow job as a consolation and then a little later, I noticed the blond guy going to the shallow end to show his pubes to one of the girls (to no doubt confirm his status as a blond or that he dyed them as well). I even caught the tail end of what must have been one of the guys unbuttoning one of the girls bikini tops (as she was fidgeting with the strap behind her neck and one of the guys playfully yelled to the lifeguard that the girl was exposing herself in the pool). They were having fun, and I was envious. It was that innocent fun that high school kids can have... that you can't have once your out as gay (and probably not even as an adult if I really think about it). But the guy/girl difference definitely adds something to the mix that simply cannot be recreated with only guys. I mean, given the choice, I'm certain that I'd choose to still be gay, but when straight guys and girls interact, there's a level of flirtation that just isn't there in a group of gay guys only.

If I were swimming around with a cluster of guys in the pool, I'd know that if I wanted, I could probably see his dick. There would be no question, no doubt whatsoever. If I wanted, he'd show (gay, straight, whatever). Yet girls are much more reluctant (on the whole) to simply show their stuff. There's a question... will she show? There's a challenge. There's the thrill of the hunt and the possibility of defeat. It's the same reason that HBO late night is more appealing than a porno. There's the chance... will they show his dick or won't they? With a porno, it's a guarantee. With the sexism in late night cable, it's more likely that they won't... the thrill of the hunt is a big thrill. A sure thing can be nice, but a challenge can be even better.

So, anyway, I was sitting there watching the guys, somehow wishing that I could magically be part of them, somehow wishing that I belonged to that group, somehow not worrying about French or business or anything. Wishing that I was somehow so caught up in the moment that I forgot everything.

But I doubt I'll ever have that in my life. My brain is constantly on. I think and think and think and have a hard time just relaxing. I can get laughing cross-eyed drunk, yet I could still explain how to program your VCR, write the HTML for a web page, or download pictures off of your new digital camera (which is, by the way, why the pictures are here... because of a new digital camera). I just can't shut my brain off. I never could... and sometimes I'm really jealous of guys going to a community college who surf on the weekend and haven't a care in the world. I know I need to "stop and smell the roses", but I can't. I'm too busy trying to start a business, get a 3.7+ GPA at USC, and figure out what I'm doing next.

7:16PM

I've had five shots in less than thirty minutes of Captain Morgan rum and I'm now pretty drunk... but I can still tell you that how to program your VCR. I can still tell you that to make something bold in html you use <b> to start the tag and </b> to stop the tag, and I'm still fairly coherent... but I will tell you that I can hardly type and I'm having a hard time typing without errors. My point, though, is that I'm still coherent after five shots... still thinking... but, ok, I admit it, less than if I hadn't drunk the five shots of 70 proof rum.

7:56PM

I've had nearly seven shots now, in less than an hour and fifteen minutes, and I am completely drunk. I must say, though, that I'm not worrying about anything. So I guess I was wrong about the worrying when totally drunk thing. I'm totally drunk, which I find novel... and writing the diary, but I am NOT worried about anything... I can barely type... and am having MANY more typos than normal, so I was wrong.

If I drink much more, I'm going to puke... and I may puke now anyway, so I think I'll stop. But it was an interesting "experiment".