It's Friday, but I'm totally hooked on this Blog, so I have to write something before I leave work. Yes, it's 7pm on Friday and I'm still at work. What a loser.

I've been writing a lot more this past week, largely due to this Blog, but I'm also continuing to write in my handwritten journal. I've been chatting with this UC professor about a screenwriting group (free!) that will meet once a month to take a "premise" through to maturity. I probably already freaked him out because, in making arrangements to meet, I said I wouldn't bring a rose, but I'd bring a premise that was almost as scary. Anyways, he hasn't confirmed our "date", so maybe I just voted myself off the Screenwriting Group Island.... *Sigh* figures.

Anyhow, my weekend plans... I'm very tired and not feeling very sociable. I'd like to read, maybe go on a bike ride, go to the art museum (it's free now!) and do some other low-key free things. Do you catch a theme in here, blogalongs? Yes, I'm having some financial difficulties. That's why I'm thankful this blog is FREE, and all the neato things attached to it, like that groovy webcounter and guestbook -- all FREE FREE FREE! Late last night, I finished my fed and state taxes. I filled out the automatic extension form back in April, mostly because I was too lazy before 4/15/03 to gather up all the receipts for the rentals -- and I hate doing the math on the depreciation part. Further, last year was particularly a tax bitch because I did one of those gnarly 1031 exchanges where you buy and sell rental property but don't have to worry about paying capital gains taxes. At least in theory. Another thing which adds to my frustration and I'm sure makes me so singularly me is that I refuse to pay good money to an Accountant. I'm sure you'll hear that tune change once I get my Audit notice.

I finished HM "The Air-Conditioned Nightmare". You know, it got very tedious. I was particularly disappointed with the chapter on Alfred Steiglitz, a photographer I've always admired. B*O*R*I*N*G, it instead replayed a dream sequence in which Modern Man (or something like that) tries to interview Steiglitz about Art (I think, I probably got it all wrong, it happens when you're falling asleep). Also, I skimmed through an entire chapter or three where it seemed like all HM droned on about was his car. I suppose it provided nifty pastiches of American life. But it also seemed to reproduce in excrutiating detail small-talk conversations with hitchhikers and children.

My friend Dave lent me Edmund White's "The Married Man". So far, I have no comment, but I approach it cautiously. I read "The Beautiful Room is Empty" twice -- once when I was first coming out, and perhaps right after it was published in the mid 1980s, and again a couple of years ago with the book club. Who wants to read a bunch of self-obsessed crap about someone who sluts around America AND Europe, never making a real connection with other human beings. Someone who whines about wanting to have a relationship and yet blows it every time. Uhmmmmmm, hmmmmm,, welll,,,,,,, hmmmm.

Doesn't sound like anyone I know, noooooooo.

So -- this weekend: reading, going to the art museum, and oh yes! Finishing painting my furniture. What could be better? I hope it's not too hot, maybe I'll take my dog Grace on a nice little walk in a nice little park around town. Relaxed, low-key, FREEEEEEEEEEEE..

Nighty night.

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OK, so I have to comment on this article -- even though it's for my het brethren, I clicked on it (and ones like it) far too often, just to see if there might be something I've missed in the scheme of finding Mr. Right.

Nope. All the factors to finding True Love are there that I'm used to seeing, only this one seemed to spend more time, surprisingly, on appearances. Hair, clothing and ... shoes (?).

And they didn't leave out "Listen" and "touch (in a non-threatening, non-provocative way)"

While reading this, I thought back to my last sociable occasion -- did I put all of these factors to the test? Why, yes, I did: At the pool party, I'm sure I cornered many a potential victim and asked scads of questions about what they did and where they were from. I believe I was attentive to minding that the corners of my mouth were playfully up-turned to provoke open conversation, and to keeping my eyes open wide to suggest interest in the other person, and the Mexican Cozmos no doubt made them sparkle. That's how I found out they were all happily coupled and slashers. My friend Cindy, who attended the party with me, suggested I should have been more aggressive in giving out my number. Perhaps that was the missing factor. The image that comes to mind is me, after every statement, parotting: "That sounds interesting/here's my card/give me a call."That sounds interesting/here's my card/give me a call.

I think I read these kinds of things far too often. It makes me want to go out, have a drink, and pick someone up for some no-strings-attached fun. I'll make sure I buff my shoes before I go.

Today, I did a dry run-through of my first ever Powerpoint Presentation. It stank. It totally stank.

The presentation is meant to delineate parameters in our company's use of outside data against our own, without adverse legal consequences from competitors. I've been working with the Corporate Legal department to put this together.

It began on the wrong foot: The company (which shall go nameless, dear Blogalongs) has netmeeting, and I previously tested its availability in the conference room and moved my documents to a shared server so everything would be ready. As people (Three Directors, Two Managers and a Vice-President!) began gathering and calling in from remote locations, I couldn't find the documents and some did not know how to use netmeeting. I had to run back to my desk and send the documents as attachments in e-mails. Additionally, the star-shaped speakerphone crackled and throughout the presentation, people sighed loudly with exasperation or interrupted complaining they couldn't hear. I believe I took it all in stride and recovered, but it threw me off-balance.

The first part of the presentation -- an excel spreadsheet -- went fairly well. But, as I began tackling the powerpoint, the questions and criticisms began. "This isn't at all clear, based on what *I* understood from Legal." But I answered each question; I believe I reflected confidence (ha ha ha!); and I made a point to agree and incorporate all suggestions. I suppose my presentation was, after all, confusing and wordy -- probably just like one of these blog entries.

On a brighter side, this run gave me exactly the kind of feedback I needed. After the meeting, I completely rewrote the presentation -- and I think it's 1000% better. I logged onto here as a reward for finishing a new draft. I hope that my shortcomings at initial effort are outweighed by my enthusiasm in making it better. Again, I envy those who work for themselves...

Later today, I attended an hour-and-a-half seminar on "Career Pathing", given by members of HR. It started off with us being asked to stand up and to clap ten times: "That's a clap for yourselves for being here today." chirped the moderator. What is the Latin word for "BARF". I don't know what to make of it all -- on the one hand, I've never worked for a company that has adopted such an approach -- usually, you're left to fend for yourself -- but on the other hand, the cynical side of me shouts: Show Me the Money! After listening to a fuzzy review of web-based resources now available to us, we had a breakout session where we applied what we'd just learned by counseling "Fred" and "Shaggy" on things they could do to better their career opportunities. The session wrapped with a drawing for stress-balls, silly-putty, and corporate logo pens. (I sometimes wonder there's not more workplace violence.)

I should not short-sell myself but it is difficult to feel confident when sitting in a roomful of peers who have all been with the company on average over a decade longer than I have. I should stop whining and be thankful I'm collecting a paycheck. And if my value to the company lies in creating controversial and dissatisfying powerpoints, and attending corporate workshops on skill building, then so be it.

Dear Blog:

I own a few rental properties, with four primary tenants and a few hangers-on (children, pets, girl/boyfriends). I don't know much about them. It's interesting what they talk about/tell me on the occasions when I do interract with them.

Mid-last week, I had to investigate a water leak at one property. The tenants are two guys in their early 20s. The reason they got the apartment is because I thought they were gay: I don't know too many straight guys who have a joint checking account, do you? But they're not -- Ben has a girlfriend, and what a cutie patootie she is, too. The neighborhood was in an uproar because she's black -- the neighbors actually cornered me! -- but I think they've come round. Last time I saw her, I mentioned I had been to the opera, and she perked right up: "I've been trained in professional singing!" and then she began singing right there on the spot. I don't know what she was singing, but something warbly & I hope I showed I was impressed. You go girl!

But I digress. When I was there investigating the water leak, the mail was delivered, and Marc got a letter from his sister. He bounded upstairs where I was digging out old caulk in the bathroom just to tell me that. "She's loving boot camp and she's gaining weight." Well of course, I had to ask why that was a good thing? She had had an eating disorder. What kind of an eating disorder? Anorexia: She was 5-10 and 120 lbs when she was in High School. "And that was pretty serious, you see how big I am." (Yup, Marc's a pretty big guy.) "Her best friend weighed 98 lbs and they used to tell each other how fat they were." Hmmm, that does sound pretty serious, I hope she's OK now. "Oh, yes, she joined the military and now she says she can wrastle any one of us her big brothers." Marc was obviously tickled pink to receive this letter from his sister: Later, when I was leaving, I saw he'd tacked it with a magnet to the refrigerator. I was tempted to read what else she had to say -- but I didn't.

People should hand-write letters more often.

Speaking of bodies, I did go to the clothing-optional pool party over the weekend. Only I had been mistaken, and it wasn't clothing-optional -- it was clothing-mandatory and everyone was wearing clothes just as they might usually. *whew* I thought, now I can relate to people without that added worry.

Weeeelllll, no. Not really. Since it was a pool party, most everyone wore nothing but swim trunks -- and that also meant no shirt. Yikes. I've been working out, but there were some god-like specimens to be compared against. Still, there were a few flabbie cats; so, seeing that I was somewhere in the middle on the buff scale, I threw caution -- and my shirt -- to the wind, and waded into the pool. (This was more easily accomplished after a couple of Mexican Cozmos, which is something with Tequila and very, very good.)

*sigh* so disappointing. Supposedly "people" were enquiring about me. But did anyone come over to talk to me? No. In fact, it seemed most folks were already coupled. Even worse, I smoldered with envy because everyone I met was a "slasher": I'm a Lawyer-slash-Head of a NonProfit for Creative Change; I'm a Doctor-slash-AIDS Research Fundraiser; I'm a Funeral Director-slash-Caterer. Etc.

I'm alive slash single.

One last thing to weigh in on: I picked someone up on Friday night. His name is David and he has (owns?) three dogs -- plus points. He's self-conscious about his weight, had started the Atkins Diet, and hadn't eaten anything all day just so he could drink some beer. Minus points -- I'm glad we have our priorities set up right. He had a tattoo on his leg of the Virgin Mary, taken from a prayer card on the occasion of his ex-boyfriend's death. Hmmmm.

I might give him a call: What have I to lose? He was cute, he was not obese, and has an (unknown but) interesting past worthy of further investigation. He has an interest in outdoors things -- maybe he'd be up for canoeing or kayaking. I haven't gone all summer and I've missed it.

Will I call or not? Will the number be real or fake? Will *he* be real or fake? Stay tuned!

Dear Blogalongs: I've been happily upgrading my site today so that I now have a webcounter and a guestbook for YOU to leave comments. If something I write strikes a chord with you -- or not -- you can now leave me a little note-sie!