New

The park across the street may function as one or many of a myriad of possibilities: a playground, a drug haven, an attempted rejection of hyper-urbanization, a place to take loud human beings of all ages. Whatever the function may be –– and it has fulfilled many of these possibilities in the two days since I've arrived –– this park does give me a gorgeous, un-edifice-obstructed view.

I SEE TREES!!

I can also see the Columbia Medical Center. If I climb one of these trees and fall, help is just around the corner.

I love the city. I had an interview today that went very well, pending the follow-up stipend discussion that will hopefully ensue on Thursday or Friday of this week.

Please, please, please, please, please, come visit me! If I've asked you to visit, I truly mean it. I wouldn't have invited you to trek 3,o00 miles just to be amiable.

Winter is just around the corner –– ice skating at the Rockefeller Center is a requisite for me this year.

The long overdue post about Avi has arrived!

The trip was amazing –– despite minor dramz with windstorms, drunken idiots with opinions, and a wee sandstorm –– and life is back to normal.

I tried gambling, and I can see how people get addicted; it's so easy to lose money, but somehow I was able to win like ten dollars to give back to Karen, the President and CEO of the Flecky Family Trip to Avi.

She's the stellar beauty three from the left in this picture. By the grace of God I was positioned next to her in the shot.

I love her. This picture is missing Shannon –– she wasn't feeling well . . . –– and was taken outside of Feathers, where I ate the cheesiest omelette ever made.

The next picture was taken during the float-down on our second day there. Seriously –– all exaggeration and silliness aside –– watching the sky and the clouds as we floated down the Colorado River was truly mesmerizing. Despite the drunkenness surrounding me, I felt humbled by the size of the world and the vastness of the infinite blue sky. We had a damn good time too. Just look at Ali, front and center; She really epitomizes the Avi attitude. Avitude.
Although we didn't know everyone on the float-down, we had a great time. I barely knew anyone, actually. It was so fun; we just sat in our own little group, talking and getting sillay. The trip really reminds me how much I love my friends. Every time we hang out, it feels as though no time has passed since we were in high school. We have different stories to tell and our libraries of experience have grown, but the cores of who we are and how we relate haven't changed at all. Even if Bri drinks now, she's still the sober, responsible mom that makes sure we stay on schedule; even if Tawnee is on a strict gym regimen and doesn't smoke anymore, she's still the carefree crack-up that reacts hilariously to every situation; even if Holly is working as a teacher and living on her own, she still knows how to get silly and pose masterfully in front of random portraits; and even if Ali is on her way to becoming a Paragon graduate and executive chef, she is still absolutely immature, sparkling, and witty –– absolutely my bffl.
The cocktail party was awkward as always, but this year we dressed up. Two notes: Check out Ali's bootylicious bootay, and check out my insanely long toga. Ali wins; I fail.
Avi was, and will always continue to be, an escape from reality and an adhesive for friendships I know will never end.

Excuse me, what the fuck?

Today I received a dose of sobering reality.

As many people already know, Governor Schwarzenegger used his line-item veto power to cut a few things from California's budget. Included in those vetoes was a lot of AIDS money. At work today I witnessed the effects of these cuts as our Executive Director was forced to meet individually with each employee to terminate some and add to the responsibilities –– dramatically –– of others.

When one of my coworkers said, "this is just fucked up," it really hit me how fucked up this actually is.

Since I am younger and moving to New York soon, this doesn't affect me very much in the sense that my job stability in Santa Barbara was only temporary anyway. For other employees, they have lost the foundation we have all been taking for granted. After all, who really thought that programs supporting people with HIV/AIDS and preventing the spread of the disease would be lost? I guess I'm being idealistic, but I thought this was a pretty important priority.

Which brings the discussion to the individuals served by these programs. Where will they turn?The purposes of these programs are to save lives, preserve lives, and enrich lives; without the funding, there will be no one for these people to turn to.

And fucking Cash for Clunkers.

You might die from AIDS, but you can turn in that old car of yours for big bucks!

AIDS, who cares; Jalopies, BINGO!

The Return

Wow, look. at. this. car.

Okay, a few things:

1. The price of this car is 1.35 million, according to caranddriver.com

2. Maybach's are ugly and super-expensive –– I'd rather have a Bentley any day.

3. Why is the interior (leather, dash, everything) black in the front, but white in the back? Doesn't that seem to be a bit of upper-crust racism seeping through?

4. Visit http://www.maybachusa.com/landaulet/maybach-landaulet.php if you want to know more. Or buy me one?

So,

SOMEONE RETURNED ALL OF MY STUFF!!!

I was so upset that someone would actually keep my backpack (complete with laptop, gym stuff, car keys, work keys, delicious chocolate) knowing they were completely fucking me over. When I got a facebook message saying "I have your shit" I nearly wet myself . . . sort of. Honestly I didn't believe it at first. Anyway, I have it back now, so my blogging journey continues.

I hope everyone is excited for The Half-Blood Prince! I also hope they'll have it in the theater at Avi, the luxurious resort I'm going to this weekend.

Yeah, be jealous.

Also, now that my car keys have been returned, I can actually drive to Canyon Lake to make the trek out to Laughlin. I'm so excited. Before I went with the Flecky's for my first time, I had no idea how happily I would embrace the white-trash culture of Avi. Going to Avi is like pressing pause on life: no outfit is too casual, no language is too foul, and no laziness is too excessive.

Can't. Wait.

I have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow when I go back to the PPF office following nearly a week of Pride Festival work –– for those of you who aren't in the know, June 30 marked the end of the fiscal year for many counties, cities, agencies, and contracts. That means a lot of reports are due. That means I have a lot of data to enter, quantify, analyze, and report.

Yippee!

Okay, I'm done with my most recent article (and my most recent blog entry), so I'm going to bug Daniel so I can eat.

Pre-Indigo

So I've finally finished reading my first novel on the Kindle!

I read Shanghai Girls by Lisa See. I actually had to look at my Kindle to remember who the author is. Is that due to my horrible memory or is it caused by an increasing fracture between the reader and the book? Then again, how does picking up a book remind us who the author is any more than picking up a Kindle does?

Moving on.

In preparing a few questions for my phone interview with Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls, I thought I'd take a quick gander at the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) since everything I knew was secondhand information. I might as well insert a link to the Wikipedia page here (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Defense_of_Marriage_Act) since that's where I went.

I don't know why, but I had thought that Bill Clinton is a good guy. Despite his fling with Lewinsky and his creation of the "Don't Ask Don't Tell" policy, I had somehow been given the impression that he deserved the nation's nostalgia. Maybe it was the bumper sticker "I miss Bill" or his pot-induced determination to consume a pig on Family Guy. Either way, it is important to note that he signed DOMA. Here's what DOMA means to me:

1. Federally (as a representation of the will of our nation) I am not allowed to marry my boyfriend –– marriage is defined by federal law as a union between a man and a woman.

2. If a same-sex couple, let's say a pair of Iowans, gets married in their home state where it is legal, their marriage does not have to be, and likely will not be, recognized in another state where marriage is not legal (cough CALIFORNIA cough).

3. FURTHERMORE, "No State ... shall be required to give effect to any public act, record, or judicial proceeding of any other State ... respecting a relationship between persons of the same sex that is treated as a marriage under the laws of such other State ... or a right or claim arising from such relationship." I'm sorry, "a right or claim arising from such relationship"? Maybe same-sex marriage is a lot for the queer community to be asking for right now. WTF!? I was surprised when Prop 8 passed, but now I really don't know why.

Had I been up to speed with this law, I likely would have been just as pissed off as everyone else in the gay community when the Obama administration backpedaled and defended the Act.

Here's my solution: Let's take away the rights of every married couple for a month, or even a week, but let them keep their titles. Then we'll see if all of this is just about the term "marriage" or if there's a little bit more to it than that.

Pride Festival

So, this Saturday is the Pacific Pride Festival! Last year wasn't the greatest turnout (although it wasn't bad compared to previous years), and it depresses me when the LGBT community has a day of celebration and only a fraction of us actually show up.

Last year, when I was working the check-in booth, a couple came up to me and asked what the festival was for.

"It's Santa Barbara's Pride Festival. We're celebrating the queer community!"

And they're response?

"Oh, we don't support that."

And they walked away.

I want to see more people out there that DO "support that," and that want to give our community more representation.

When I was little, I remember asking my parents why there isn't a Kids' Day since there is a Fathers' Day and a Mothers' Day.

"Ty, EVERY day is Kids' Day."

Well, every day is also Hetero Day. I want to hold hands with my boyfriend without having to release it every time I see someone approaching. And, perhaps out of selfishness and cowardice, I only feel comfortable doing that when I know the people I'm around are queer as well. Or at least openly supportive.

So please show up this year. It's free. The performers may not be Kathy Griffin or Lady Gaga, but they are entertaining and I guarantee you'll smile.

Here's this year's schedule of events building up to and following the festival. I hope to see some familiar faces.

Wednesday July 8

Kick-off to Pride, “Sunset” at the rooftop of The Canary Hotel

Free Admission

6-9 PM

31 W Carrillo St., Santa Barbara

Thursday July 9

Pride Girl Party, “Stiletto” at Whiskey Richards

DJ FTRTRSH and Luna Bella Make-up Art

$7 at the door

9 PM – CLOSE

435 State Street, Santa Barbara

Friday July 10

Pride Pre-Party at Club Statemynt

presented by Robert Mendez and Dennis Berringer

DJ Gavin Roy

9PM – CLOSE

519 State Street, Santa Barbara

Saturday July 11

Pacific Pride Festival

Featuring a Performance by 80’s pop star Tiffany

Free Admission

11 AM – 7 PM

Chase Palm Park at the beach, Santa Barbara

Splash! Official Pride After Party Sponsored by 3 Olive Vodka

3 Olive Drink Specials from 7-9 PM, Dinner available, 805-962-7776

$15 Pre-sale tickets at the festival – $20 at the door

7 PM – CLOSE

SOhO, 1221 State Street No. 205, Santa Barbara

Sunday July 12

The Ultimate Pride Brunch

11 AM – 3 PM

At Epiphany, 21 W Victoria, Santa Barbara

Call 805-564-7100 for Reservations

Pride Closing Party at Red Room

Free Admission

9 PM – CLOSE

Wildcat Lounge, 15 W. Ortega St., Santa Barbara

It's Time

Yes, I've started a blog.

I wonder how many bloggers begin their blogs with that line.

Perhaps many . . . perhaps.

Well, I'm listing in my head the people that will likely make fun of me for this to my face, but they shall remain nameless.

Indeed, they shall.

Okay, an introduction:

My name is Tymon. I live in Santa Barbara, California. I work at Pacific Pride Foundation (because I'm gay . . . or because I care about people? or because I need a job?) and I'm an intern at the Independent. I'm 22 years old, I drive a Jetta (dark blue, cracked windshield, blown speaker, faster than my boyfriend's heap of Jeep), and I have no pets yet. I have a few great friends, and one bestie (239).

Also, I have a wonderful, kitty-loving boyfriend who is dragging me to New York at the end of this summer, but eventually I get to drag him to England. Oh oh oh, and I have an amazing family and an OUTSTANDING little sister. Let me find a cute picture of her...

Or two.

So that's a little blurb about me. I was born in Vista, near Escondido, spent about nine years in Southern Oregon, moved to Southern California for high school, and am now in Santa Barbara thanks to four years at UCSB as an English major. Actually, two years as an English major, but four years as an undergrad anyway.

I like to read (my mom gave me a Kindle for graduation), watch movies, EAT, play, swim (without going underwater thanks to my perforated tympanic membrane) or sit in water, and peruse craigslist for jobs and housing in NYC.

There, that is my introduction.