Magic City

We spent a week in Miami, my home town.

Miami, is apparently referred to as The Magic City on occasion. Which is odd because in my 18 years of growing up there I had never heard that. Quinn picked up on this, and continued to say things like, "ahh Magic City", or "It's good to be in the Magic City", all week solely because it bugged me (which is ridiculous anyway, so who could blame him). Despite this minor annoyance, we had a pretty nice time. Consult the evidence below for confirmation on this point.


Sunrise on a plane.

How handsome is this guy?

Having grown up very close to the beach, I have to say that sandy feet are my favorite kind of feet to have.

A friend of mine from high school, Alice Motes, (the kind of friend that was at my 16th birthday party and whom I just hung out with three days ago all the way out here in L.A.) grew up on an orchid farm.
Motes Orchids is one of the leaders in Vanda growing and hybridization. They even won some sort of world cup of orchids, or something like that.
The farm is utterly mind blowing (and the Motes' have epic 4th of July parties that I very much miss attending).

You should check out Mary Motes' blog over at Not Just Orchids. She means it, her blog is not just about orchids and it's one of the most interesting blogs out there (and it doesn't even have photos! *Gasp*)

The Motes' also have quite a jungle of a yard aside from the orchids.

This is Melissa and Quinn at Robert Is Here, a fruit stand right outside of the Everglades. Melissa is my wife and would-be life partner if it weren't for the fact that the thought of each other's vaginas makes us both cringe. But I just might love this woman more than any other person on the planet.

This is the Robert Is Here emu.

We rolled through the Everglades......with the sun on our faces......and the wind in our hair.

The tiniest airplant.

P.S. Does anyone know how I could make these photos appear bigger?

No, we're not in South America yet. This is Los Angeles.

RED

Artists can color the sky red because they know it's blue. Those of us who aren't artists must color things the way they really are or people might think we're stupid.
- Jules Feirffer

The draft is white people sending black people to fight yellow people to protect the country they stole from red people.
- James Rado
He liked to observe emotions; they were like red lanterns strung along the dark unknown of another's personality marking vulnerable points.
- Ayn Rand

Men are nicotine soak, beer besmirched, whiskey greased, red-eyed devils.
- Carrie Nation

Bathtime Stories

She always did things for no other reason than her own entertainment.
Others often didn't understand. It had never occurred to her that pasting pages from her favorite book around the shower walls was odd. She loved to read in candlelight and she loved baths.

I'm Bi

That's right. Bisexual. Not BIpedal. Not BIased. Not BIlateral. BIsexual.
Mom, if you are reading this, I'm sorry. I know you don't like it when I "say" it out loud.

I like girls, and boys. Both of them equally, although I seem to find it easier to be in a relationship with a man. Women are too complex and emotional. But that doesn't stop me from being outrageously attracted to them.

Today at Trader Joe's, I saw a very beautiful woman. I pointed her out to Quinn as we are always open about that sort of thing. Sometimes we get caught checking out the same girl and it's a bit awkward.
As her and I passed each other, she smiled at me. I blushed. Quinn encouraged me to talk to her but I couldn't do it.

We're checking out and all of a sudden the girl is behind me in line. Tall and beautiful with slightly olive skin and green eyes.

We both go to grind our coffee at the same time. I start to feel really nervous.

She says something to me but I can't remember what and I ask her where she's from because she has an accent. She's from New Zealand. Another hot Kiwi, imagine that.

She asks where I'm from and I shrug and say Miami, nothing special. And she responds with, "you're beautiful". I begin to panic. Is she flirting? Is she just nice? And then she says she noticed me in the aisle and thought I was "amazing".

Inner voice: "Gah! What!?! Uh, oh my god! You're so hot!"
Outer voice: "oh, ha, uh thank you. I was thinking the same thing about you."
Inner voice: "ok, not bad. What now?"

We talk about my arm tattoo for a moment and about the elephant on her ankle. She mentions something about getting a tattoo with a girlfriend, but I can't tell what kind of girlfriend she means. And then she's done grinding her coffee and flitters off and I'm stunned and walk outside to meet Quinn.
"How did it go?" - Quinn
"she said I was beautiful." - Me
"What? She just said that? Did you get her number?" - Quinn

What Quinn doesn't understand is that it's not that simple. I have a boyfriend. Quinn is my boyfriend. And although I know he is comfortable with my attraction to other woman, I know he would not be comfortable with me dating another woman, and neither would I. I love Quinn, I don't need more than one relationship. This one is everything I need and more.

But that doesn't mean I don't miss the feeling of another woman.

But say I did get this girl's number, and then I went on a date with her. I would have to tell her that I have a boyfriend. I can't imagine her response would be anything other than, "what the hell are you doing here then?". And then am I supposed to say, "I just want to have sex with you"?
Yeah, that's going to go over swimmingly.

My friends, it is not easy being bisexual and in a committed relationship. Notatall.

Let's give it up for the sky!

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
- Rabindranath Tagore

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.
- John Lubbock
Going around under an umbrella interferes with one's looking up at the sky.
- Jerzy Kosinsk

It was morning; through the high window I saw the pure, bright blue of the sky as it hovered cheerfully over the long roofs of the neighboring houses. It too seemed full of joy, as if it had special plans, and had put on its finest clothes for the occasion.
- Herman Hesse

Don't ask me for an explanation. I just want to show off my pretty sky pictures.

I'm melting! Oh what a world what a world...

It's so goddamned hot in LA I can't stand it!

Every half hour I'm back in the bathroom with my overheating, sausage like, feet in the sink. I swear steam rises from them at the very instant that cold water hits. My daily shower has been so cold over the past week that I stand under the water gasping for air. You know, that feeling you get when under cold water, like the air is being sucked out of your lungs involuntarily.

Shit. It's just really hot, man.

Here's a picture:

This picture of cold, frothy water is as good as porn to me right now. Oh! Oh! Oh! Yes! Oh!

Oh and, photo credit goes to Me!

Photographia

So I know a little while back I said this was not a photography blog, but Quinn let me play with his camera today.
This is Alex pretending to be a photographer:




















I have a few more but I think I'll save those and whip them out on you when you least expect it. or when I'm feeling lazy and don't want to write anything... whichever comes first.

Only in L.A.

Hello everyone!
It feels quite odd to say hello "everyone" as I have absolutely no indication that there is even an "anyone" out there reading this thing. Don't get me wrong, I realize that this is only my first day blogging and I do not expect anybody to really be listening yet.
Anyway....

I want to start a series of photos chronicling all the oddities that are daily life in this strange city of angels. So far I have three which I would like to share with you today. Now, I hope you will pardon me for not being one of those super cool bloggers who always seems to have a ridiculously awesome camera on them at all times in order to catch those tiny instances that are just perfect for posting to their super artsy blog. Ahem.
No, usually I have but my phone on me, with which to capture said moments. This is not a photography blog people.
And now without further ado, I present to you the first of the first three photos in my forthcoming series:
I like to call this one "A Night to Forget".
This was taken around the corner from my home. In this photo, if you can't quite tell, is a broken green bottle, two broken egg shells, an empty pill pack, a bottle of pills, and a chicken bone with a spattering of crushed pastilles.
I can't tell if this was an amazing night of booze, drugs and debauchery or the remnants of some strange L.A. version of Santeria.
This next one I have dubbed, "The Nap".
Yes, this man is sleeping inside of a box on top of an abandoned couch out on the street corner. Perhaps this man is a result of the previous picture?
This picture was taken at around 10am while on my way to the local coffee shop. Rough night, I suppose.
The next photo is something you rarely see any place other than near the cross streets of Hollywood blvd and Highland in L.A..

This man was on his way up to the Walk of Fame. That famous area on Hollywood blvd where you can see all the stars on the sidewalk and the location of Mann's Chinese Theatre (the theatre with all the hand prints).
In this area exists "The Impersonators". These people dress up like various characters from various movies throughout the ages. There is consistently a Marilyn Monroe, a Charlie Chaplin, and in recent years a Jack Sparrow, among many others. These people are there to "entertain" tourist. They take photos with tourists in exchange for a small tip, normally a dollar or two. Now, there are two distinct types of impersonators, the fairly normal, clean looking folks who are just making their living doing what they do best and they do a pretty good job. Then, there are the obviously off their rocker, possibly homeless impersonators. Our friend in the above photo is of the later. His suit looked as though it doubled as a large blanket for those cold nights sleeping off the booze in the doorway of some office building. When Quinn and I caught up with him at the Walk of Fame, he had his Barney head on but he also still had on the old sweaty t-shirt over the suit, and was shouting about how he was the best Barney in all the world. o_O

Well ladies and gentlemen, there you have it, the beginning of my "Only in L.A." series.