Thanks for visiting. I'm a recent transplant to the Boston Massachusetts area, living with my boyfriend while he completes his MBA. I'm originally from Utah, I like Apple, FileMaker, writing about my feelings, and eating edamame.
It’s snowy in Salt Lake today. It’s the kind of day that should be reserved for black and white movies and hot coffee. Instead, this day will be met with wet shoes and disdain for having to remove myself from my apartment at all.
Most nights, SML and I make dinner and then try to do something more active than watch American Idol; so we’ll go to the gym and lift weights, swim or sometimes throw up in the men’s restroom. Last night we suggested many times to each other that we should go swimming; and each time I’d say, “Oh, you DON’T want to go.” SML didn’t seem puzzled by my choice of words, which is probably why he quickly agreed that swimming was out and that cake was in.
There aren’t a lot of places to eat cake downtown, so I usually revert to The Bakery on third east. I refuse to go to The Bakery anytime after October and anytime before March because the building is cold and drafty. We weren’t there long before both SML and I ordered cheesecake and sat near the north wall to talk about death threats and the Internet society. Sometime during our conversation, four gay men walked into the establishment and our conversation subtly faded as our attention transfixed upon these men.
I can’t really explain why I stare at other gay people. I apparently can’t stop this just like I can’t stop visiting rotten.com. I figure that this is a mild form of an obsessive-compulsive disorder, which could be better described as a fascination of the gay species in their natural habitat. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like pointing out the gays to prove that their Gay Dar should be studied because it is more accurate than the National Weather Service.
But I’m clearly not the only one person with this problem, because when we stood up to pay the four gay men on the south side of the building turned around in their seats to stare. They looked at us as though we had invaded their territory and were ready to defend it. SML hid behind me and said, “Ah! Now they’re staring at US!”
Seriously Gay 
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