Ordinarily, I don’t do very much at all with spell work. Years ago, we had a High Priestess who tended to be much too rely way too much on various forms of divination in relationships, rather than communicating with the actual person. (Tarot cards and I Ching cons have nothing on the telephone!) I need to feel grounded and practical, and that I am not just abandoning my responsibilities and relying on the Gods to take care of things.

However, there is a spell we have used before for healing, and I knew that my friend would be fine with it. I needed to find 40 small counters for it, and didn’t have any pennies lying about, but then I realized that I could use some multi-vitamin pills, which felt like they were appropriate. I also found a photo of us together and set that up. I feel like it went well, and the only message that I wanted to get to the Goddess was just that my friend be able to be truly healthy and to make it past this rough patch.

There is a medical procedure in the next week and a half or so, and I am praying that everything goes well. She is a truly beautiful soul.

One classmate was roasting marshmallows for s’mores and said something about it being so long, and he wasn’t sure if he could fit it in his mouth. Sensing that I was being fed a straight line (so to speak), I softly said, “Amateurs.” It got a laugh. I was thinking of something re: the marshmallow roasting about a quip to the effect that hot white goo in my mouth being at least somewhat familiar territory, but I held back on freaking the straights too much.

They are also doing something tomorrow. If I make it back in time from the Ashtabula picnic, I will see if I can stop in.

I am glad that I went. Kudos to the organizers for putting on a nice event!

2 aging Hudsons that had seen better days? I immediately decided that they should nickname them Blanche and Jane.

From Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

I think I can safely say that I earned by gay points for that day.

Some of the folks brought their dogs, which were a big hit. At one point while we were paused, Amy and Erin’s dog, Schnitzel, laid down in the street for belly rubs.

We forgot about parking some cars at the end of the parade route, so we all ended up walking back from out near the airport to 12th and Harper, where the Comfort Inn was. (That’s where we had started off.) I bumped into a former co-worker and her husband, who were very supportive and said kind words about how we handled things.

The folks in the contingent met up again at the Taco Bell at 12th and Peninsula. I walked up to the counter to get a bite to eat, and the young lady who took my order said that she really liked the Erie Pride shirt that I was waiting. I told her about the March/Rally on August 27, and mentioned that we had more shirts for sale in the car. One of the reasons that I believe in doing events like this so strongly is that interacting with the general population is one of the best ways to make progress and stress that we are all human beings. Sure, events like the Pride Picnic and the Pride March/Rally are important and useful. But, making contact with folks outside of our community is also extremely important.

I came back and took a brief nap on the couch, and then went over to spend a lovely evening at Mom’s. My stepfather had just driven his Model A in the Lawrence Park 4th of July Parade, which he has done for a few years now. His relatives, who live next door, rode as well, so that was nice that they all got a chance to have some fun. (The neighbors have 3 young girls.)

After a yummy dinner, my Mom showed me photos she had taken when she and my stepfather went to Israel in April. She hadn’t done a lot of long distance travel before (first time out of North America), and it was obviously a deeply moving and important experience for her, so that was terrific.

All in all, lots to be happy and feel good about! I am such a lucky guy.

I was the contact for the hot dogs vendor, and picked them up on Friday and stored them in my fridge for Saturday night’s after hours. Not wanting to repeat the previous night’s mad dash, I went home to get the hot dogs late afternoon (and ended up talking with a female friend in parking lot who had had brought by a young man who wanted to get involved in advocacy for the LGBT community) I got the hot dogs from the house, some ice to keep them cold and dropped them off, and texted Gary that I would be relaxing for a bit.

Dinner was very nice, I sat next two friends on one side, and 2 other guys, one of whom was strikingly handsome and turned out to be very friendly and endearingly geeky/nerdy. (His online handle is a bald-faced lie, though – it was Ugly Bear.) During the dinner, Gary was thanking the vendors, performers, volunteers and committee members.

When he got to me, he mentioned the web site/IT stuff and, referring to the after hours pickup tasks, that I was getting known that weekend as “the meat delivery guy.” The hottie next to me, amusingly quickly pulled his chair close.

But the thing that folks weren’t aware of was that I had frolicked a bit with one of the guests after coming back with the hot dogs, so when the phrase “meat delivery guy” was used, he did a quick aerial high five and I guffawed.

And next year, I think I will insist about having Committee Member and Meat Delivery Guy on the T-shirt. (It never hurts to advertise.)

My original plan had been to go to the screening at Mercyhurst tonight, but when I got out, it was a bit late. I thought that there was a Drenched Fur meeting, so I stopped by, but there was no answer at Gary’s, and since I hadn’t had lunch, I just went home to grab some dinner.

I later got a text that the meeting was indeed on, so I got ready to scurry out of the house. However, on the way out, I saw that I had a friend request on Facebook) from what I read as Peter Mahler. (That would be my father, who died in 1995, quite a bit before Facebook.)

I paused before dashing to check it out. It turns out that it was from Peter Maher (no L) who is from Ireland. (Dad’s mom was Irish.) Just an odd coincidence.

Later, I went out to the Zone and a twink dashed past me to his friends saying “I’m running like an Olympic runner.” I bit my lip before I could say that “Yes. Just a REALLY girly one.” I think that he might have been wearing some glitter.

This afternoon, I had to get a few things at the store and was checking out. In the end, the cash register froze, and the cashier had to call someone over to reboot. I drummed my fingers. She moved to another aisle and took care of the other folks, as they had to figure out whether the charge had gone through. (Just like work, I guess: when in doubt “Did you reboot the PC?”)

Eventually it came back up, and it looked like the charge hadn’t gone through. The guy went back to check on something, and called another cashier. First he asked the amount, which I happened to recall. Then he asked the cashier to specify the items, so she went though the bag. My luck – the first thing that she brought out was the lube I had bought. (I didn’t do my normal thing of purchasing a few bottles at a time, so I was asked if I was going for the Blue – make that  Red Light  -Special.) I am not sure, but I think that something like this might have been a bit on The Golden Girls. (And yeah, this is a pretty gay paragraph.)

As it turns out, they had me go back to the original cashier at the aisle she had moved to. I said that this felt strangely familiar. It came out to the same total, and one of the cashiers said that I should play that item. I bit my tongue before I could said that since I was checking out the exact same items I had checked out minutes before, it really wasn’t a big shock.

I had a wonderful time at a friend’s birthday party later that evening. Towards the end, she was asking questions to see who knew her the best and passing out prizes that I thought at first were candy. The earlier ones might have been candy, but the later ones were packets of lube. The quote of the evening went to her friend, who knew her best. The friend proudly held up the 4 packets of lube that she had won during the evening and said to her husband,

Wow! Look how much anal we can do!

We all giggled. One the way out, I told the birthday girl that I was definitely familiar with parties with lots of lube on hand, but it was odd to have it given out in small packets at the conclusion of the evening’s festivities.

I stopped for lunch afterwards at a Chinese buffet. The fortune in the cookie read something like “You will have a new adventure this weekend.” I played the normal game of adding “in bed” to the end and guffawed. Really, last weekend ended up more for that sort of thing!