In Governator Voice: "I'll Be Back!"

It's always hard to break disappointing news. But the truth is, AVEN's not going to SF Pride this year. Or, more accurately, I'M not bringing AVEN to SF Pride this year. True, I was psyched like a hyperactive kid in a ball pit, but it was just not going to work. Here are some reasons why:

• It would have been much more expensive than my original projection. We'd have to rent the "booth structure" as well as the space, and booth structures do not come cheap.
• It would have been ludicrous to attempt to do this by myself, but I wasn't confident that I could find enough willing and able people to assist me.
• I have some health issues that are making it hard for me to commit to such a huge project right now. Don't worry; I'm on the mend, but it would probably be best for me to take it easier for a while (I say easier because I never "take it easy", but one does one's best).
  

Seeing as I've never even been to SF Pride, I'll scope it out this year. Also, I'm taking a class on publicity this semester. Okay, it's publicity of the music business, but PR is PR. I think this will really help me with not only my music biz work, but my AVEN work as well. Basically, my ability to pull of things like AVEN booths will only increase in the coming years. Until then...pamphlets!

Asexual Paranoia

This actually happened:

Friend: So, Ily, there's something I've been meaning to ask you...
Ily: (Thinking: Oh crap, he's going to ask me about my sexuality, isn't he? And it's going to be so awkward and I won't be able to explain it well! Jesus!)
Friend: ...What kind of donut is this?

And no, I didn't know what kind of donut it was.

I Got Dressed for This?

Today's monthly meetup was at Zante's Indian (and Pizza); I thought people would be raring to go on such a culinary adventure. In actuality, no one came! Our friend from KPFA made a brief cameo appearance, and I felt awfully bad that she didn't have a group to talk with. Our local e-mail list now has a very respectable 31 people, and not one of them was able to make it out. So I ate Indian pizza by myself (Ever eaten something that tastes pretty good, but you feel like you have to eat it quickly before you overthink what it really is? Indian pizza is like that). Then I wandered through Big Lots (where I could easily blow my paycheck-- luckily they closed early) in a food coma. At Zante, I ordered a beer and didn't even get carded; I guess the hard realities of meetup-organizing age a person.
So why didn't anyone show? Was it the rainy weather? (Although, this is 2008 and we have things like umbrellas now.) Was it just bad luck? Was it my bad, did I not remind people enough or soon enough? Were people scared of Indian pizza and/or Bernal Heights? Were people put off by the last-minute prospect of a radio presence? Was everyone terribly hungover, or had the flu, or had to take their cats to the vet?
After talking to the fellow asexual event-planner from Portland, along with my own Checkovian sense of general despair, I'm starting to think that maybe there's nothing I can do. Maybe it's just that not enough asexuals want to meet each other. Not everyone thinks the way I do and wants what I want; I acknowledge that. But if this is incorrect, what am I doing wrong?

The Times of Harvey Milk

We must destroy the myths once and for all...we must continue to speak out, and most importantly, most importantly, every gay person must come out.
As difficult as it is, you must tell your immediate family, you must tell your relatives, you must tell your friends if indeed they are your friends, you must tell your neighbors, you must tell the people you work with, you must tell the people in the stores you shop in.
And once they realize that we are indeed their children and we are indeed everywhere, every myth, every lie, every innuendo will be destroyed once and for all.
And once you do, you will feel so much better.
--Harvey Milk

[Above: Harvey Milk helms San Francisco's 1978 Gay Freedom Parade]

Watching this film about Harvey Milk's life and death made me think-- most asexuals can pass indefinitely as overly picky, late-blooming heterosexuals. But should we? I won't wax on about how influential or inspirational Milk was; that's been done. But I'll pay my respects with something I'd like to think he might appreciate: A lists of ways to come out in the 21st century. Sitting the folks down for a chat is not only a little passe, but gut-wrenchingly difficult for most of us. So here are some more interesting and/or easier methods...

• Start an A-themed blog or website (hey, worked for me!).
• Circulate a link to AVEN.
• Use Facebook or Myspace.
• Make or buy a wristband, button, t-shirt, etc., and wait for someone to ask about it.
• Go on national TV, get interviewed for a magazine, go on a radio show, etc. Many have!
• Get an A-themed tattoo (I know of at least one person who has).
• Start a conversation about an A or maybe-A icon.
• Make your friends see the film Withnail and I, or any other film with an asexual theme, and use it as a springboard for discussion.
• Tell an asexual joke (I don't know any, but that doesn't stop you from inventing some).
• Write notes. Use "yes" "no" "maybe" boxes if that makes you comfortable.
• Valentine's Day swag is already in stores. What better gift then a big box of sweets with a card from "your favorite asexual"?

I'm sure there are many more original and post-modern ways to come out, but that's all I can think of right now. Feel free to add to the list. And when you come out, don't forget: all of us, the one percent and all our friends, are behind you every step of the way.

Aimless Love

I'm sure they wouldn't all agree with this, but I think that poets probably understand asexual love better than most. My little quote at the top of the page, "Of course, there's always something to fall in love with" is from a response to this question on a long-ago Myspace survey: "Did you fall in love this year?" For me, the question was ridiculous and the answer was "Well, duh!" While my major loves remain few and monolithic, I definitely have more fleeting loves on a semi-regular basis. This is why I write, and as an amateur poet, I find a passion for life's overlooked details essential to the process. But like LeVar Burton, don't take my word for it. Here's the poem that inspired these thoughts, "Aimless Love" by Billy Collins. Collins was America's Poet Laureate from 2001-2003, and even though his poems can veer over that pivotal one-page length, they are usually very easy to read. Sometimes, even funny! So check out this one from his collection Nine Horses:

Aimless Love

This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.

In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor's window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.

This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.

The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.

No lust, no slam of the door--
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.

No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor--
just a twinge every now and then

for the wren who had built her nest
on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.

But my heart is always propped up
in a field on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.

After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap,

so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.

Back to Bagdhad

Portland was great, and, except for one culinary terror, full of many culinary delights. It was wonderful to see some of my friends who I hadn't seen for almost two years. And even though only one other person came to the AVEN meetup, I enjoyed hanging out with her and ranting together about how hard it is to organize things.
I also bought Judith Butler's Gender Trouble at Powell's Books. You might have to pray for me...
Stay tuned tomorrow for a post I've been looking forward to!

Portland Calling

Portland seems a lot like San Francisco; multiple public transportation lines all going to the same place, defeating the purpose of having more than one. So at least I won't be too homesick when I'm there this week. I'll be seeing two good friends and even some Portland AVENites! And yes, I am planning on going to Voodoo Donuts...
I'll be back with posts after MLK Day! (Fun fact-- his birthday is actually today.)