notmypresident: (Bugs Monsters are interesting)
It's official: my father has turned into a little old lady — more specifically, his now-deceased mother. And I'm on record as having hated that fucking cunt, so dad's transformation is pushing all my buttons. I've already mentioned his complete lack of privacy boundaries, so I won't rehash that territory. What's been more and more noticeable of late is how dad has to snoop and pry into everything just like a little old lady. I had a bag of garbage that was to be thrown out, but dad had to intercept it and then go through the entire bag to see what I was throwing away. Worse, he snoops whenever I'm not around. I've noticed several items in the garage shuffled about for no reason other than he was sorting through the boxes to have a look-see.

I know this is a transition for him as well as me, but it's frustrating in the extreme. Over the past week I've taken care to preemptively put away anything that dad might take offense at, but I think that's going to stop. At this point I want him to uncover those dildos I keep for oral practice during one of his snooping sessions. That might convince him that privacy is something to be respected.

I had my initial meeting at the new dialysis clinic yesterday. It's quite a different set-up, as my former clinic was quite small and set up only for peritoneal dialysis; the new clinic is an actual center for both PD and hemodialysis patients. The people seem nice enough, but there are some troubling aspects. As a satellite office, this clinic is only open three days a week. More troubling still is that my insurance might not be as straightforward here in Oregon as it was in California. All of the financial thresholds for disability income are rather low (reflecting an Oregon culture and not one from California), which means I apparently don't qualify for state assistance. However, the new clinic was able to give me some phone numbers, one of which has led to a potential lead. The person who will handle my possible account is unfortunately out of town however, so I won't hear back from them until next week.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Even Supergirls Cry)
I've never missed the lack of blog entries here and on LJ as much as I have these past few days. Being a stranger in a stranger land has left me feeling rudderless, and not having the touchstone of reading friends' entries only compounds the problem. Sadly, my friends feed is down to about two or three folks who (like me) still try to post regularly, but that's not nearly enough. And no one contributes anything of importance to Facebook anymore (if they ever did to begin with).


Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Hercules thumbs up)
Dad is driving down to Salem today for his 67th (or something) high school reunion, so I have my first "me" time since moving into the house. I desperately need it, having spent every minute of the past week (give or take a few hours) with him. It's only going to last for a few hours, but I'm going to savor the time.

This is definitely going to be an adjustment for both of us. One big problem is that my dad has a temper fuse that's shorter than my little pinky. Really, the dexterity required to dance around his mood shifts is nothing short of amazing. I've also learned that the finer points of humor are lost on him. Maybe in time he'll come around, but for now I'm trying hard to keep all comments to myself lest they either fly over his head or set him off. I've no doubt that this is due to our vastly different straight/gay outlooks.

I feel good that we got the U-Haul truck unloaded yesterday and turned it in to the local subsidiary. That feels like a major accomplishment. I still have to paint the bedroom and then assemble the bed before I can get back into a semblance of a regular life, but I'm not forcing myself into any sort of timetable now that the trip is complete. Dad hasn't grumbled too much at my plans, which included moving the (very heavy) computer desk so that my back is no longer to the door. He still has no sense of privacy, but at least now I won't jump out of my skin every time he shows up and just starts talking behind me. And I'm once again using my own computer, which is a major plus.

On a slightly different note, there are an awful lot of hot bearded men up here. Of course, they're probably all straight and/or closeted due to this being the suburbs. In fact, I have yet to pick up any Gaydar pings. The manager of the new storage facility is a chubby bearded guy, and I got a bit of a tingle the other day when he put his hand on my shoulder. But that was just a crumb from a straight guy who probably doesn't think twice that his actions could be interpreted differently than he intended.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Scott exasperated)
My first post from my new living situation in Oregon.

The trip up from California was surprisingly pleasant. Dad and I managed to set out on the first leg of the trip at around 2:00 p.m. on Wednesday — a little later than I'd hoped for, but it couldn't be helped. I simply ran out of time/energy for getting everything pre-packed at the old house! The movers were great, and helped pack 99% of my stuff onto the 20' U-Haul truck. Quite the accomplishment, that. Dad was disgusted by the visible remnants of the rat infestation from a few years ago, the result of the landlord carelessly leaving the backdoor of his space open to the yard and thus giving the rodents easy ingress to the entire house. In fact, dad basically wants me to trash any furniture that I had prior to the infestation because he says it's undoubtedly tainted with their waste product (and it does get everywhere; I thought I'd cleaned it all up after the actual incident). I'll probably do just that at a later time. In any event, I had no qualms about leaving my apartment space without giving it a good cleaning, as I would typically have done for any other situation. Fuck it. Any claim from the landlord for cleaning funds will be directed to his offer to help pay for my moving costs (which, of course, he has not followed up on).

Oregon is going to be a bit of a cultural shock for me. I've only been here two days, and I've already run into a few instances of implied homophobia — both in others and in my own father. One had to do with a breakfast restaurant that is owned by Christians, with menus sporting the "fish" symbol on the back cover. When I expressed to dad that I'd prefer not to give them any business in the future, he was at a loss for my position. "These people are trying to take my rights away," I explained without any success. I next tried to use the example of being Jewish and feeling similarly if the restaurant had a KKK logo on the menu. "It's just food," my dad said with exasperation.

The next bit of homophobia was more than implied. It was at the private golf course where my dad volunteers. After saying hello as we drove up, one of my dad's co-workers said to him "Are you Gay now that you've been down to California???" It was said as a joke, but was still a slap in my face. I was about to point out to the idiot that I was in fact Gay, but I kept quiet out of respect for my dad's position there. I wouldn't want him to lose out on a job that means a lot to him should the worker take offense at some fag standing up to him. But I will certainly give the man my coldest shoulder should I ever run into him again. Respect for my father's position only goes so far, after all.

And it all led me to start wondering just how much I'll have to stand up for myself here and whether or not that will impact my situation with my father. His internalized homophobia may not be able to deal with an out-and-proud Gay son, but I'm not going to step back into the closet just to keep him happy. And if he asks me to move out, which I don't really consider to be a possibility (but which could still happen), I'll deal with that situation if and when it happens.

But aside from that, I have to say things are going rather well. Dad and I were able to unload my bedroom furniture from the U-Haul truck already, saving an additional step. We're headed to the storage unit tomorrow where the local movers will help unload everything left. The items that come back to the house will have to stay on the truck, but I think they'll be much easier to unload for dad and I than the bedroom furniture was. I also went to Home Depot today and bought some paint and supplies for the two rooms dad has ceded to me, so that will be the next project once the U-Haul truck is turned in.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Call me!)
I lied. This will be my very last entry from San Francisco, but only because I've simply run out of time. If I don't pack up the iMac tonight, it will have to be left behind — and that's not going to happen.

My dad arrived today from Portland via Amtrak. The train was only an hour late, which is pretty good when you consider typical Amtrak delays. Dad says the ride was pleasant enough but that the temperature was kept at a level best suited for a morgue than a passenger train (he wound up wearing his coat for the duration). I ordered an Uber car to pick him up at the train station, but the driver didn't speak a word of English (I know, I tried contacting him) and picked up the wrong passenger. When I called, all the driver could do was hand the phone to the passenger he'd mistakenly taken on so that I could find out what was up. The passenger was super nice and apparently went the extra mile to locate my father and explain things after they'd returned to the station. What a way for my dad's visit to start.

It hasn't been entirely weird being with dad. I can tell he's trying his best to be accommodating. And I'm trying my best not to become annoyed by some of his typical dad stuff. He apparently doesn't agree with the timeline that I've set up, but he's going to see how things go (accompanied by a heavy sigh of frustration). U-Haul was able to get the bigger truck for us, and we went over this afternoon to sign the paperwork so that it was locked down for us. We actually should have just driven it back to park out front, but that wasn't in the cards. I'm trying to be careful not to overwork dad. He's got that stubborn streak where he'll say he's fine even when he isn't. He recently hurt his shoulder, so I opened up the box of bathroom supplies that I'd packed to give him some of those individual heating bands that I find to be so wonderful. I hope they can help him out tonight because we're going to hit the road tomorrow for the first half of the trek to Oregon (barring any unforeseen incidents, that is).

I know we'll muddle through, but it's still nerve wracking at this point. I keep getting mixed signals from dad about the two rooms he said he'd clear out from me, but I suppose I'll just have to adopt a wait-and-see attitude. I'll do whatever has to be done when I get to Beaverton.

Thanks for everything, San Francisco. You really are my home, and I'd stay if I could afford you.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Scott smiling)
This will almost certainly be my last entry from San Francisco. I'll be packing up the iMac and all the various peripheral devices tonight, and it's just too damned hard to make a post from my iPad. That could mean a gap between now and my next post, which will have to wait until I get the computer set up in my new location. Sigh.

I used Uber this morning to perform several chores (like taking the comforter in to be dry cleaned before I leave). I went ahead and used the "pool" function for the first time since that was the cheaper of the two (especially for one leg of my travels, where an Uber-X solo ride was about $10 more). The last thing I did was to stop by my dialysis clinic one final time to drop off a gift box of chocolates that I'd picked up at the local Ghirardelli Factory Outlet. I got to say goodbye to everyone, and I thanked them for getting me through the start of my PD treatment two and a half years ago. They're such a great bunch, and I'm really sad to have to leave them behind. I feel good about my new clinic, but I know that the experience won't be the same.

Time to get back to the final packing chores. I'm at an awkward stage because there are no more groceries on hand — I'm going to have to use Doordash just to get some meals!

See you on the other side. Wish me luck.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Scream and Scream Again)
My last Caturday in San Francisco...

I've managed to be productive during the past few days, but there are unexpected moments when the negative feelings quite literally overwhelm me. It's surprising to feel what's essentially a wave of negativity suddenly wash over me. It's also quite upsetting, that my emotions could swing so wildly at a time when I need to maintain an even keel.

There's still a lot to do, but I have three full days before dad arrives. Everything is "mostly" done, but it's the "mostly" part that's troubling. I think I'm going to dismantle all of my lamps today, and that's going to take some work to protect the stained glass shades. Lots of bubble wrap for them. I've decided to wait until Monday to dismantle the stereo system, and then Tuesday will be undoing the bed. Those are the last of the "big" items, so I'm hoping it all goes smoothly.

I wanted to go to the opening of It yesterday, but decided that I should wait and make that the first movie I see in my new location.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Disgusted)
It started last night, that sick-to-my-stomach feeling that I know will be with me until Moving Day is over. Oh fuck, I'll probably still feel nauseous well after that, but for now I have to tell myself that things will get better. It's not an easy prospect to keep in mind, I can tell you.

Yesterday was a rather muddled mess. I'm convinced that the 15-foot U-Haul truck will not be big enough for all of my boxes and my bedroom furniture and my living room furniture. I tried calling U-Haul, who told me that I would have to cancel my current reservation for the 15' truck and make a new one for a 20' truck if I wanted a bigger truck. Not only would I lose the hold I currently have on the first truck, but there would be no guarantee that a 20' truck would be available locally on Wednesday. And since I'm going to have to rely on Uber to take me to pick up the damned truck, it felt like a huge risk to not know until Monday where and when I could pick up the larger truck.

In the end I bit the bullet and changed the reservation for a larger truck. If a 20' truck is unavailable, I'll have to hope that a 15' truck is waiting nearby. And if everything doesn't fit into the smaller truck, I'll just have to prioritize which things I will take and which I will leave behind. After all, these are just possessions and most of them can be replaced. Just not my new 4K TV — that's going, even if I have to strap it to my back.

I'm down to the final touches on packing for both my bedroom and the kitchen, two of the last major hurdles. I'm going to have to start unplugging my home theater system so I can get everything there boxed up. I've been holding off on that because I'm still relying on music and movies to calm my jangled nerves (admittedly, with varying degrees of success). I think I'll hold off on that last bit of work until Sunday night.

Now for Another Hot Guy(s).

notmypresident: (Scott exasperated)
Ugh. So many things going wrong at the same time.

My dialysis machine is on the fritz, so the company behind it is overnighting me a new one.

I'm having a sugar crash at the worst possible time. To make matters worse, I have no food on hand that would give me an immediate boost. I'm going to have to take it easy and see how things go.

I was supposed to have blood work done today as required by my new clinic, but the lab that prepares the samples is located in Florida, and everything there is on hold because of Hurricane Irma. Several phone calls later led to my new clinic telling me that they'll temporarily overlook the requirement because until I arrive in Oregon.

Quite a bit of the packing is done, but I'm not as far along as I'd hoped. I'm finding it hard to stay motivated. I'm worried that the U-Haul truck I ordered is too small at only 15 feet. I should probably find out if a larger truck is available and how much extra that will be. Dad gets here next Tuesday, which is right around the corner.

Good lord.

Now for Another Hot Guy(s).

notmypresident: (Bugs Monsters are interesting)
Over the past couple of days I've had a variety of experiences with the customer service departments of companies that I've need to contact. So let's start with the worst experience first.

Giant corporations have terrible reputations when it comes to customer service, and Comcast certainly embodies that quality. I needed to cancel my account because of my imminent relocation, but the company seems to go out of its way to prevent customers from doing exactly that. There is no way to cancel service without first calling customer service, and that means plenty of option menus and waiting. The first representative flat-out told me that I was locked into a one-year plan and that I would be charged for the entire term if I canceled. Having read none of that online when I initially signed up, I hung up. That was last week. I called back today and went through all the options and waiting for a different rep, who (this time) told me that I could cancel but that there would be a $10 early termination fee. After struggling through his hard-sell patter ("Are you sure you want to leave the company that offers the best service and the fastest internet options???"), I told him to cancel the service and to send me a last bill with the termination fee. When I asked him to read back what he needed to do, the termination fee had suddenly become $15. I was so sick of being on the phone with "the best company" and simply said good-bye.

I knew that I needed to backup my iMac before the move in case something happened to the system en route to Oregon, so I ordered a 2TB external drive for that purpose. Western Digital pre-formats its drives for use on the Windows platform, but states that the drives can be reformatted for Macs. Except of course that mine wouldn't reformat even after following instructions found on the internet, which meant I had to call customer service. Now, we all know the horrors of dealing with outsourced customer service departments. I usually don't mind, except for today. Our language barriers saw me having to repeat the serial number for my new drive around ten times. At the end of the tunnel, the rep simply referred me to the company's web site to download its proprietary disk formatting software. I did, and it worked. But, oh man, was it a tough call.

I would think that smaller companies would offer the worst customer service, but not with Acoustic Sounds. It's an independent distributor of vinyl, SACDs, and digital downloads. I will use them on occasion, and they've never let me down. This time out, I was curious as to why the new OMD album hadn't shown up as a new download option when I'd seen it offered by a competitor. The rep was extremely personal and quick to look up and then explain how Acoustic Sounds didn't currently have a licensing agreement with OMD's label. He even broke precedent by saying that I should download it from the competing service. Wow.

Okay, enough kvetching. Time for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Blondie Crush)

When I got the email from the chicken-shit owner legally notifying me that I had 30 days to vacate the premises, I was angry. Intensely angry. After all, he and I had sat down just a few days prior for a heart-to-heart conversation, and I was left with the understanding that the earliest a possible sale could happen was February, 2018. During this talk, I explained how unfathomable it was for me to consider moving in with my dad, and I was told by the owner that he wasn't really looking to sell and that the realtor was just going to give him a few ideas.

So basically, the owner lied straight to my face.

It's not surprising, all things considered. The owner is basically an immature coward who relies on excuses — often lame ones — to explain away his flaws. I'm sure he even has an excuse (or two or three) for having misled me about the "possible" sale. It's one of the results of the owner's adoption of an aging hippy's approach to life; in his mind, it's the path of least resistance. His definition of a hippy is someone who lets his house become run-down because upkeep isn't something he's concerned with. For him, a hippy doesn't mind when living quarters become a pig sty or that his clothes smell from a lack of washing. And for him, a hippy never explains his actions. On the few occasions when I would criticize his behavior, he would snap and start yelling — a defensive posture that he employs to get people to back off.

Unfortunately, those are not the traits of a hippy but of a child.

So I'm not surprised that there's been no further correspondence to follow-up on his initial offer to help with my moving costs. That would be to adult for him. He can make a grand gesture but then not follow through on it, instead coming up with an excuse to explain his lack of follow-through. I'm sure that, if confronted with his offer, the owner would say something along the lines of "Well, you haven't talked to me since the email, so I figured you didn't need any help." Neat bit of rationalization, but totally self-serving. It's true that I've not spoken to him since the email, but that doesn't absolve him of his offer. Not in my book, anyway. And he's so good at sending e-mails, as I well know. He could easily write to ask "how much," but that won't happen.

So I'm still angry, but not quite as intensely angry. I once panicked at the thought that I would never have enough time to pack up 30 years of accumulated items, but now I just don't care. I will take what I can and leave anything behind for a hauling company (he's already hired one to clear out most of his junk, though they need to come back to clear the garage). I've been told by more than one person that I should "trash" the place when I leave (even by my own dad!), but that's not in my DNA. I won't be cleaning my space as I would in a regular arrangement, but even the space I have will have to be intensely gutted since there'd been no upkeep on it at all before I moved in. And once I leave, that will be the end of it. Permanently.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Bette Davis Marked Woman)
Oh, goody — the heat will be less oppressive today. Slightly less oppressive, that is. It's just after the noonday bell, and the temperature is already 86° (again, much higher than average). We'll probably reach the low 90s by late afternoon, which will make today about 10° cooler than yesterday. Time to put away those hand fans, I guess. At least it's acclimating me for the upcoming Portland weather, which has always been warmer than San Francisco.

I'm back to being stuck at 241 on my diet, making no progress since the other day. I'm sure it has to do with water gain, as this heat has me drinking bottled water like an elephant. I've already gone through the supply I'd set aside of Orange Crush flavor pacs, and I'm going to have to open up the sealed box of kitchen supplies if I want to get more. Damn this heat wave!

I did think of one big plus for my upcoming move: being able to hit the Beaverton Bakery up for their delicious baked goodies. Fuck the diet! I especially like their Pain au Chocolates, though I wish I could convince someone to try making them with milk chocolate instead of dark chocolate. Perhaps that should be my new mission in life?

I've kinda/sorta grown tired of the beard porn star postings, so back to Another Hot Guy regulars...

notmypresident: (Beef)
The heat wave continues. The last temperature that I saw for San Leandro was on the five o'clock news, and that registered as 100°. I realize that some might not blink twice over that reading, but considering that the Bay Area typically sees temperatures that are about 30° cooler for this time — well, our bodies just aren't used to it. To demonstrate how bad things are, I just sat down at my iMac and noticed a strange sound. It took me a minute to realize that it was the internal fan trying to cool my system down. I can't remember the last time that happened.

I feel as if I've been drained of all energy, despite drinking about twice as much fluids as I normally do. It's easy to lose moisture when you sweat just by kicking back and watching TV. And the situation is exacerbated by forest fire particulates being forced to ground level from the upper atmosphere. My eyes have not only been red and irritated from the bad air but also feel gravely tired. I read somewhere once that the eyes use a huge amount of one's body energy, so perhaps that's why I'm also feeling so bad.

Weather forecasts call for a lessening of the heat wave over the next few days, with the possibility of returning to seasonal norms by midweek. That won't help me recover these past few days of lost packing. I just can't seem to summon up the wherewithal to get more done in this oppressive heat. Fingers are crossed that the local meteorologists get their forecasts right for once.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Betty Hutton Oooh)
Temperature records are being broken all over the area today. San Francisco not only saw the daily high temperature shattered but also the all-time hottest (it's now 104° in the Beautiful City by the Bay). Things are a little cooler over here in San Leandro, but at 101° it's hard to notice the difference. I've no air conditioning, so sitting in front of a fan is my best option. That, and a lot of ice water to keep myself hydrated. Doing just about anything starts me to sweating, so I've had to curtail my packing efforts and just put in the minimal effort. No heavy lifting, just wrapping breakables in bubble wrap. I'm going to have to do some work after sundown though if I want to make up for lost time.

Now to add to the heat with Felix Barca, Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Homer exercising)
Weight plateaus are a part of any diet. Trust me, I've been through enough of them to know. I finally hit my first speed bump on the Nutrisystem diet this past week, where I just couldn't get over the 244 mark. It was frustrating, to say the least.

But (yay) I seem to be back on track. I was down to 241 this morning, a full three pounds since I last weighed myself the other day. Of course, part of that big leap is due to fluids removed by dialysis, but that's not the entire picture — it can't be, or I'd be fainting all over the place. I just hope I can lose one more pound by September 14th.

Here's Brad Kalvo, Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Bob's Burgers dance)
As my departure date grows closer, I keep thinking of things to do in San Francisco that I've always taken for granted I would have time to do once again. Most of those I've just have to let go of, like shopping in the Union Square district. It's been torn up for the past few years because of the new underground MUNI line, but it looks like I won't get to see it now that things are (almost) back to normal there. I do want to get back to Blow Buddies for one last session. I always told myself that I would head back once I'd reached my goal of losing a full 50 lbs.; I'm going to have to live with having lost only half that amount if I want to experience BB one last time. The only real problem is that it will cost about $75 for the round-trip Uber fare. That's a bite, but I was going to do it anyway after my diet, so...

The packing proceeds. I'm up to the kitchen, with all of the breakables therein. I have a ton of bubble wrap though, so I think things will be alright. I can bubble wrap the dishes while binge watching old episodes of "Roseanne."

Now it's time for Jesse Jackman, Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Homer Drool)
I spent waaaaaay too much time on Tumbler yesterday. Really, way too much. Every time I looked at the clock, another two or three hours had passed without any understanding on my part of where the time had gone. So I stopped looking at the clock.

Part of the problem was that getting up and running on the site is so damned awkward. As I mentioned yesterday, the Tumbler search engine is worthless for someone like me. Once I actually started to "follow" blogs, I could click on links from reblogged posts, kind of like following a trail of bread crumbs. Really, really dumb. I can only imagine that Tumbler does this so it can ignore the staggering amount of porn found on the site (after exhaustive searches, that is). Plausible deniability and all that. Thankfully, I'd managed to follow a number of sites by the end of the day, so my dashboard feed is now pretty full.

Another part of the problem was that I decided that I'd better start posting some entries of my own instead of reblogging someone else's work. That meant diving into my own library of images and sorting out which pics were worth posting and which would end up in the trash. So I guess I could say I was cleaning out my hard drive, but it was really just an excuse to look at even MORE pics of hairy guys or big dicks or hairy guys with big dicks.

I'm sure the novelty will wear off. I don't care how many people follow me (just as with my Dreamwidth blog), but it seems as if people hardly bother to communicate on Tumbler. A comment every now and then would be nice. On Tumbler, I mean.

Now for Another Hot Guy, Adam Ranzi.

notmypresident: (Size Does Matter)
I think I've pretty much decided to use my Tumbler account for anything related to porn. Using all these images of bearded porn stars for this blog has kinda/sorta restoked my interest in the subject, but I'm not up to committing to my former LiveJournal blog. It's true that I'll mostly just be re-blogging images from other Tumbler sites, but they're images that I would post here if not for the censorship. So, you know, they'll either be pics of hairy men or pics of big dicks or (if I'm lucky enough) pics of hairy men with big dicks. I haven't quite figured out how to search for sites that pertain to my interests; the main search field doesn't recognize "huge monster cocks" for some reason. I've mostly been following links from pics I like to their original posters and then following those accounts. Very tiresome.

Sending out well wishes to TexWriterBear over on LJ. Houston's been hit harm by the hurricane, and I hope he makes a post to let us know that he's okay.

Now for Zack Acland, Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Garbo Alone)
Yesterday was a tough one. A number of small matters turned into big emotional problems. I wish I understood how emotions work because it might help me avoid days like yesterday.

The biggest stumbling block came in the form of a call from my dad asking me how I would feel about continuing to use the furniture in mom's old bedroom when I move in. This was a reversal of dad's previous offer to clear everything out so that I could move my own stuff in. I mean, I get it: the prospect of having to move heavy furniture suddenly became a reality for my 84-year old dad. That's not an easy prospect, even though I always assumed that he would get some folks to help him out. And he didn't come right out and say he wouldn't follow through on his original offer. But I know my dad's style: he'll come right out and suggest something without actually coming right out with his intent. And really, what could I say? I told him it would be a bit of a disappointment not to be able to move in with my stuff and that we could wait to remove the old furniture until after I get there.

But boy, did that put a damper on my day. It felt like the first tiny crack in a situation that I'm not exactly thrilled about to begin with. I did manage to keep busy with some packing, but I spent far too much time losing myself online. I'm feeling a bit better today and keeping my fingers crossed that I don't come across any more hiccups to throw me further off track. Maybe I'll just turn my phone off for the duration...

Time for Another Hot Guy, Patrick Weise.

notmypresident: (Countdown)
My Bed Time Movie last night was Fright Night.

This project from 1985 was The Little Movie That Could, since no one had much faith that it would amount to much. Instead, the clever piece was both a send-up of the horror genre as well as being a loving tribute, and it became a sizable hit for Columbia Studios. The movie is ostensibly about Charlie, a young teenager who can't convince anyone that a vampire has moved into the house next door. But Roddy McDowell really steals the focus as a former second-rate horror movie star who is now host of a second-rate TV show, "Fright Night." Charlie turns to the famous vampire hunter to help him do battle, and McDowell is really quite funny as his screen bravado is ripped away to reveal a scared, fragile actor.

Writer Tom Holland also directed his script, and he came up with a number of clever camera techniques to squeeze more from the film's limited budget. He also insisted on a rich color palette, which helps Fright Night look good 30 years after its initial release. I really enjoy this little triumph and highly recommend it.

Time for Another Hot Guy, Vinny Castillo. I just saw that Castillo is apparently Gay for Pay, and so I was kind of torn about whether to use his pic here or not. I went with him in the end, but I should have done a better job of vetting!


notmypresident: (Default)

September 2017

      1 2
3 456 7 8 9
10 11 121314 1516
171819 20212223

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags