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I’ve always heard that blondes have more fun. My blonde readers can feel free to comment as to whether or not they do, but this post is mainly directed at my fellow brunettes. Do you feel you may be missing out on some fun? Do you often see blonde people engaging in fun from which you feel excluded? If not, do you perhaps fear that there is fun happening that you aren’t even aware exists? Well, fear not, as I intend to find out for all of us. I shall “take one for the team,” as they say. How, you ask, will I do this? I intend to test the “fun” theory by becoming blonde. We brunettes can do that nowadays; they have the technology that allows it.

This endeavor promises to be my most challenging yet, and will require full usage of my investigative skills and journalistic acumen. If I succeed, my brunette brethren, you can become blonde vicariously through me, and if I begin enjoying prodigious amounts of fun, you can purchase a dye kit and join me in blonde-ness. Conversely, if I begin putting up dumb blog posts soon, you will know why, and can stick with your natural color.

Currently Playing: Blondie – Atomic

It seems that I have asked several questions already, so for Today’s Question: Am I having fun yet? will suffice. I shall answer in due time.

And now, I am off to the apothecary shop to purchase a dye kit.

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It sometimes seems that new technologies surface on a daily basis. Society is constantly being bombarded with new inventions, and improvements upon old ones. I ignore most of them, and when I do adopt some new device, I tend to do so begrudgingly. The mobile telephone is a perfect example of this. Due to the nature of my job, I was among the first people to start using a mobile phone when they became readily available to the non-wealthy members of the populace, but I regretted having to do so; I needed one because I sometimes have to coordinate and manage as many as 40 or more people, working on 5 or more simultaneous events in all corners of the Bay Area.

Every now and then something really great comes along and changes my life for the better. For instance:

Laptop– It has freed me to do many things I could not do before. Whether it’s something simple like forwarding my calls to my mobile phone (which I now happily embrace) and working remotely from a cafe, the beach, a park, or basically anywhere, or something wonderful like having access to thousands of mp3s at the touch of a button when I DJ, my laptop has markedly improved my life.

Sonicare toothbrush– I used to hate going the the dentist, and brushing my teeth was just a bland daily routine. In the few years I’ve had my Sonicare I’ve come to relish not only the brushing, but the flattering remarks from the dentist about how sparklingly clean my teeth are.

DVD player– I enjoy watching movies (who doesnt’?), but I seldom purchased them on VHS tapes, as they didn’t seem to last very long. Now that DVDs exist, I have free reign to buy all my favorite films, or at least the ones that are available as DVDs, without fear of them wearing out. I must have well over 100 films by now, and I must confess– I had about 20 before I finally bought a DVD player.

Those three are all that come to mind. Like I said, I ain’t much for technology. I live in a Tiki Lounge and drive a car from the 1950s; it is clear I am not an “early adopter.”

Today’s Question: Have any technological advances bettered your ilfe?

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The various wars happening around the globe are constant news items. When I read or hear reports concerning them, I am struck by the differences between our modern conflicts and those of the recent past. Apparently, not only were films in black & white, dresses longer, and music more swingin’ in the 1940s, wars were different, too. Nowadays it’s not so much about stopping maniacal dictators from rampaging about Europe, laying waste to all in their path, and enslaving new populaces on a daily basis, as it is about preventing small, independent terrorist groups from blowing up landmarks and killing hella people. The times they have a’changed. What would FDR do?

Incidentally, I have been remiss in posing questions in my blogs of late. I’d like to think that it’s because I’ve honed my blogging style over the course of the past 10 months, and am now writing concise and coherent bits of prose that flow effortlessly from thesis to logical conclusion. More likely, I’ve just been forgetting. This time around I shan’t do so. Today’s Question: If you got to play maniacal dictator for a day, what country would you most like to conquer?

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Happy Halloween everyone! I have no costume. What are YOU going to be? In unrelated news, Fizzy says she wants long underwear. It’s not THAT cold in California, is it?

Here’s something funny. Have you ever seen one of these ads in an old comic book?

Here’s a modern version, satirizing the RIAA’s corrupt methods:

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I never care much to read blog entries that chronicle someone’s day in a blow-by-blow fashion. I do enjoy amusing anecdotes from a day, to be sure, but the “I did this, then I did this, then I did this” entries don’t hold my interest. Nonetheless, today’s entry is going to be in that vein, but in a more general way, as more then a few people have asked me of late: “Peasprout, what is your typical day like?”

Well, since you asked, it goes a little something like this…

I wake up at about 10:30 am or so. I make my morning commute to work, which is really just walking from the bedroom into the office. Sometimes there may be some traffic– perhaps I left some clothing on the floor– but I usually make it to work in a timely manner.

For the next three or four hours I make and answer phone calls, either touching base about pending events or convincing potential clients to hire me, and respond to e-mails. Every now and then I fax something, and sometimes even prepare letters to send by post.

At around 2:00 I shower, dress, and head out into the world. I head down Telegraph or Shattuck and eat lunch someplace while reading the day’s newspaper. The highlight of lunch is working the New York Times crossword puzzle. Sometimes I eat gelato after lunch.

After lunch, I walk about a mile or so to Ver Brugge, a local butcher, where I buy meat to cook for dinner. I then walk what must be another mile and a half to the Berkeley Bowl, my favorite market, where the produce section boggles the mind. Finally, I walk yet another mile home. By now it’s around 5:00, and time to start cooking.

My girlfriend and I dine together most nights. After dinner, who knows what we’ll do. We see a lot of movies, play a lot of Scrabble, and generally do fun things. Sometimes we just kind of do nothing together, but it seems like something just ‘cuz it’s us; even when we’re together doing nothing it beats a trip to Disneyland. Basically, I have the world’s most wonderful girlfriend. She’s also my best friend, and hands down the most remarkable person I’ve ever known. I bet if you met her you’d think the same thing.

Of course, I relish my “me” time, in which I read, write, play basketball, or hang out with friends. A lot of that time comes later in the evening, for Fizzy sleeps earlier than I do. I’m definitely a night person. I do a lot of reading, writing, DVD watching, and work-related tasks after midnight, and don’t go to bed until perhaps 3:00 am.

And that’s pretty much my day. Not much, really. And you can see why I don’t bore you with a daily recounting of said events: I’d have no readers.

Today’s Question: What is your typical day?

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In some respects I’m a less than traditionally masculine kind of guy. While I’d never describe myself as impeccably dressed and carefully groomed, I seldom appear shabby. I may not wear the latest designs (though I do somehow own a pair of Prada shoes), but I try to assemble my charity shop ensembles in a manner that is pleasing to the eye, and at least somewhat color coordinated. Additionally, I’m passionate about unique and well-made foods, I eschew beer, instead preferring cocktails, and I don’t care much for sports. My closest friends have usually been females, and I am eternally baffled by the boorish and insensitive behavior so commonly displayed by most men. It seems that I am in many ways the stereotypical gay male, except that I have zero interest in guys in *that* way.

I’ve never had any problems or worries about the way I’m perceived by people, nor do I care that I find it hard to relate to maybe 90% of other men. People regularly tell me they assumed I was gay the first time they met me. My cute apartment that I painted and decorated, with the pink kitchen (Fizzy’s doing, by the way) and the undersea paradise bathroom…it generates some odd looks, but it makes me comfy and happy, and that is all that matters.

Today I learned there is a term for one such as me. I never knew it, but I am a metrosexual. I read a web page today that explained it all to me, you see, and now I know I am not alone. Somewhere out there, other men exist to whom grooming and interpersonal dynamics are of more than passing importance, for whom a meal of new and unusually prepared foods is a treat and not a chore, yet whom lack any homosexual desires.

So, the next time one of my guy friends gives me a funny look for wearing flashy clothing, including a gold mesh Versace shirt I found at a thrift shop for $19, cooking from the French Laundry cookbook, or skipping a televised football match to instead read a book, I’ll direct him to that web page, and there will no longer be any mystery.

Metrosexuals of the world unite! Stand with pride and chant with me: We’re here, we’re not queer, but we like a manicure. Okay, so maybe our slogan needs a little work, but you get the idea. Now if you will excuse me, I must run, for I have a quiche in the oven and it demands my attention.

Today’s Question: Are you met or met-curious?