gay gay eveywhere but not a drop to drink

Oh, man, too bad I’m not strung out on coke right now, typing all erratically and talking shit to myself. That might fall under the "unstable" catergory and fuck that. Yes, fuck that, indeed.

So this is my first official saved entry in "Open Diary". I will miss teen open diary. Actually, that was a lie. That site fucking sucked and was always under construction or just simply not working. This site seems, you know, nice or whatever. I kind of feel like a "new kid". All quiet and shy and whiney and desperate for friends and notes and drugs. minus the drugs part.

News on the forefront of life. My life that is and not the world at large. If I were to talk about the world at large I might go on a never ending tangent about what a fuckface the president is and how the world is slipping into a cultural wasteland as well as a home for destruction and fascism and poverty, dripping with foreign oil and smelling of corruption and lacking campaign finance reform. But we ain’t gonna talk about that because I’m selfish and like to talk about myself more than the country, which, essentially could be the country’s problem to begin with. eh?

The point is this: your mom is not as hot as your dad, especially not in those pants. you get the picture.

I had an interview for an internship at a local magazine called Echo. Echo is the largest gay and lesbian and arts and culture magazine in Arizona and prides itself on being an "alternative voice" in Phoenix. Really this magazine is fucking cool and embodies much of what I believe in. Lesbians. Lots and lots of hot hot lesbians. That’s what I get out of it anyway. Actually, there are absolutely no lesbians that work at Echo, they are all shiny, dripping, scholarly, well dressed, well spoken, fucking flaming gay men. From the receptionist to the managing editor- ALL GAY MEN.

The offices of Echo are fucking cool as shit. Magazine covers and cardboard cut outs and crazy art line the walls of a two story converted house.

I got there early, went in the wrong door, walking right into the room that occupied the brain storming table. Luckily it was empty except for a lanky blonde guy who greeted me happily and told me Buddy, the editor, was waiting for me in his office. Buddy is a mildly attractive gay man with what seems like a keen fashion sense but really fucked up teeth.

I sat still, a little stiff, tried to have good posture and make continuous eye contact but I think I failed at both.

What I didn’t fail at was the interview. Buddy and I hit it off quite nicely. He asked me about my zine and my schooling and my interest in writing and publishing and I was sincere and honest about everything. He told me then that he thinks I will fit in quite nicely at Echo, told me he’d love to have be aboard, and proceeded to showing me around the offices and introducing me to the gaggle of gay men that worked busily througout the place. Everyone seemed very down to earth and friendly, laid back and non judgemental. He told me to come back Monday to start. I said I was excited and exited the place full of confidence and viiiiigor.

I am so fucking stoked about this internship. I’m stoked to learn, I’m stoked to meet new cool people and have more experience but more than anything my lovely diary I am stoked to fucking WRITE. To wrrrriiite and get puuublished. Even if it is on a local level. He told me not to be afraid to throw out ideas for feature stories, he told me all his interns in the past have written a lot for the magazine and many of them have gone on to bigger papers and magazines in the valley and beyond. Oh man oh man, good things happen sometimes even though most times they don’t. and this was on of those days when they did, yes yes, they did.

And so it begins, a glittering journey towards local publishing and scholarly gay men.

So there is that.

The girlfriend called and said she wouldn’t be off work until after midnight. They sat a 16 top at ten. fuuuuck that, why would you walk in somewhere with that many people with no reservation you fucking piece of holy god shit human waste.

In the days to come I’m going to speak clearly and wash my hands a lot. I’m going to smoke pot and walk my dog and enjoy the scorching hot summer air until my head explodes. you can join me, reservation only.