Shoot! I was just about to say I'm going back to the gym, but then I realized it's Saturday and they are closed. Yesterday I was at the Buddhist Community Center and I was talking to my friend Shannon who is 14. Eventually she asks me "Why do white guys have flat asses?" So of course I'm thinking about my flat ass and how I need to go back to the gym. I used to be in such good shape, but its funny I never was completely happy with my body. I'll do some push ups and sit-ups today and go to the gym on Monday.

I'm going to the gay pride parade in Rochester today. Last year some protesters said that all us gays like golden showers. I know I do.

Someone just rang my doorbell. I didn't go and answer it because I don't like not knowing who it is. Was it the mail person? I dunno, but I hate not being able to peek and see who it is. Last time my doorbell unexpectedly rang , it was my friend Guillermo de Argentina. So I never know what I'm going to get. What if it's someone I really don't want to see? Once I'm down there I'm stuck.

In response to (e:chico) and his Ken Lay post
is there anyone else who doesn't buy this heart attack crap? Is this his final way of ripping us off and committing some kind of insurance fraud? Yes I am a conspiracy theorist, and I don't even know if he has insurance, but it really would be convenient wouldn't it? Lets watch and see how much his wife collects. Could he have took some special pill or something to give himself a heart attack that would be undetectable in an autopsy? What does Dr (e:jenks) think? Scientist (e:chicoschica)? Anyone?

I want to go back to Cuba and as impossible as it was to go the first time, it seems even more so now. Today I watched my DVD show of a compilation of the many photos I shot while there. I served as a voyeur capturing intimate moments as they passed through the streets. They are such amazing people and although they lack so much in material goods I'm jealous of them. Don't get me wrong, they have to deal with things that we could never imagine, but they know culture, they know life, they know happiness.

I'm scared for them as we are in a new hurricane season and as sea levels are projected to rise they literally live on the edge of disaster If a level 3 hurricanee passed over Habana the damage would be immense. Heavy rains themselves cause buildings (with people in them) to crumble. While I was there Hurricane Rita (I think it was her, there were so many i'm not sure) caused the sea to penetrate the city and my friends were trapped in the university dormitory sky rise. They are one of the best nations in the world as far as hurricane preparedness goes, but the infrastructure can't handle it. Their future remains even more bleak as the political situation grows even more uncertain. One thing they have going for them in they know how to survive. On a daily basis they face food shortages and rolling blackouts. We on the other hand can not function without the things like electricity that we rarely go without.

As being able to return doesn't seem all that plausible, I would like to have a photo book published that would show the Cubans through my eyes. My photos really are my eyes, and I think that its important that our country sees the people which are often forgotten in political vendettas and in politicians too proud and too arrogant to see that our policies towards Cuba not only do not work, but have only given Castro more power. If anyone has any experience with publishing companies or know of anyone who does, please let me know. If it doesn't work out that's fine, I would rather have an exhibit where I didn't make any money than not share them at all. It's just that going to Cuba was costly and I'll be paying for it for maybe the rest of my life, and if I could get some money to lessen that debt, or to further my education then I wouldn't feel as if I were exploiting them just for the sake of making money.

I just deleted my last journal. (It was only up for like two minutes) It was Paul's survey, which is over due. If you want me to do it again Paul let me know, I would be glad to be of help to your project if you still need it. The reason I deleted it was because I said that I was going to not allow people to comment in my journal because we all have that option in our preferences. After I wrote it and turned it off, I realized it takes away all the comments from past journals as well, so I changed it back. I'm not willing to turn off the comments already written. So go ahead with comments....I usually like them. Just wanted to see what it was like for you o'l time estrippers.

Yawn. I'm tired, but want to recap my experiences over the last ten days. I haven't even read hardly but two or three journals since working at the beach house. It is so interesting working there. So much history. Today I found the architect plans for an addition to the Baird estate. This guy was the architect responsible for the peace bridge. It is believed that ol man Baird went crazy and hid some cash somewhere in the house. I pressed the owner to preserve them. It must be the historian in me.

Today I consolidated my student loans before the interest rate rises two percentage points at the end of June. I think its about time to say that there is something wrong with our system right now. Like we go to school, work real hard and in the end? Nothing but student loans. I knew what I was doing though, that my degree isn't worth crap, but I did it because I wanted to learn more.

These student loan companies are so screwed up. I have this huge stack of mail from them begging me to consolidate. How many trees were hacked away so they could make all those mailers? I never got any mailings last year when the rates were at their lowest. I'm skeptical, like why do they want us all to consolidate now? Do they know something that we don't, 0r I don't?

One last thing. I do not like to be around spiders and they are everywhere near the water. I have seen about every imaginable type spider, including the very scary black and white hairy ones that look like black widows. Big asss spiders lurk everywhere and alas; I have a nasty spider bite on my side that won't stop itching or being red! Here is the horror. I have been sucking them up in the vacuum cleaner. Since I believe in karma and all that I'm kinda thinking I deserve to be bitten.

I made my first veggie meal and my kitchen is a complete disaster now. It was pretty good actually and it makes me think of other possibilities.

Eating meat makes you feel full so much faster. I think it takes longer for non meat dishes to register that I have actually eaten enough. When I started this post I was hungry, but now I'm kinda full.

Here it is without a pic, cause it didn't look fabulous. It also didn't look all that bad.

oil
1lb stir fry veggies
1/2 teaspoon fresh giner minced
salt and pepper to taste
2 eggs beaten
1 cup cornstarch
1 package 16oz of tofu (plain) drained and cubed
1/2 cup oil
3/4 cup peanut sauce
1/4 cup chopped peanuts

cook veggies in skillet w/ a little oil until tender.

mix with giner and salt and pepper...set aside mixture for later

Dip the cube tofu in the beaten eggs. Then dip it in the cornstarch mixed w/ some salt and pepper

Heat 1/2 cup oil and brown the tofu. Like five minutes cause you don't have to cook the shit out of it. Stir in peanut sauce and peanuts. Toss w/ veggies and your ready. Can be served w/ rice or alone.

Time to clean up the kitchen. Overall recipe:

taste good
cheap eat
10 minute

I haven't eaten any animals since the devil came into my life

Congratulations -

Your name has been selected from a random drawing of entrants to receive a pass for two people to the preview screening of AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH at the Dipson Amherst Theater, 3500 Main St. The screening will take place at 7:00 pm on Thursday, June 15.

You may pick up your pass at Mondo Video, 1109 Elmwood Ave, any time before the screening. You will be asked for identification. Please note that you may NOT give your ID to someone else to pick up your pass for you.

Mondo Video is open daily from noon to 10 pm.

I'm not quite sure what to say about this explosion of an issue that I didn't know that I was starting. What I do believe is that we all care about this city and that we want to see that it does better. I don't know as much as I would like to know about Buffalo. Most of you know more than I about its history and architecture. This site is great because we all have each other as a source of information. I'm always impressed about how much I have learned from the people on (e:strip).

One thing I would like to say is that Utica and Norwood would be a fine place to live for los Chicos. Norwood is another favorite of mine. Utica is like a block away from me and I may have been a bit too alarmist. Utica is still not my favorite choice for me personally, but I would consider it if it was the price I wanted and had all that I needed in an apartment.

Another thing I want to talk about is my experience on Main Street. If it were not for Main Street I probably never would have moved to Buffalo. I think I was destined to live here. My birthday was yesterday and my mother was just telling me how I was supposed to be born at Sisters Hospital, but because I was a brat and demanded to get out of my mother's womb rather than give ample notice that I wanted out, I was born in Lewiston at Mount St. Mary's, the closest hospital to my parent's apartment. It's funny how despite my family living in two different places in New Jersey, Long Island and Rochester that I would end right back up where I started. Anyways, I moved to Buffalo because it had more affordable housing and I didn't need a car because public transportation in Buffalo is way better than Rochester's system. My friends Mary and Adam lived on Amherst and Main. When I found out that there was a subway that would take me downtown to ECC (Erie Community College) I decided to take up their offer to live with them. If I had stayed in Rochester, I probably would not have been able to support myself while going to school. Indirectly it was Main St. that allowed me to get my education.

I got a job working at Sisters Hospital at Aroma's coffee stand where I worked for two or three years. (I'm not so great at measures of time) For a while I would walk down Main Street to get to work on Saturday morning because the subway wasn't running early enough to get me in on time. I didn't know that there was a number 8 bus that would take me instead of walking. It's not that I minded walking, because it was just something that I had to do. It would be so creepy walking from Amherst St station to Humboldt Hospital station when there were hardly any souls to be seen so early in the morning. (I believe it's the farthest distance between any two stations) Nothing bad happened to me any of these times, but it was a popular hour for prostitution. You wouldn't think Main Street was a place to pick up a nice hooker, but it is.

Eventually I met Kenyatti via AOL (classic) and we started dating. He worked at UB North Campus so I would take the train to South Campus and a shuttle to UB North. My first years in Buffalo were somewhat sheltered. I would only travel Main St. up and down, up and down. It was really cool actually to be able to get places by train; I loved it and would do homework on the way to school. I loved school, it was so diverse at ECC and I got a great foundation to my education. Still, I didn't really know any other part of Buffalo because I was perpetually stuck on a dividing line between white and black. I was on the white side and the blacks were on theirs. It was so strange living like that for so long; so close to "them", but so far at the same time. Occasionally I would cross to the other side. I befriended a girl named Aisha who was like 13 or 14 and had a child. She lived in some apartments over on her side. The apartment she lived in near the Central Park Plaza with her mother, brother and child was not so nice. It was sad, it was depressing and in many ways seemed so hopeless. She would come over to "our" side with the baby and we would hang out. Her situation was so unlike my own that the Main Street's dividing line couldn't be more real or painful. I'm not sure whatever happened to Aisha, but I would imagine she is still on her side as I am on mine.

There were other times that I would cross over to their side. I used to think that I could walk wherever I wanted to during the day. It's almost like I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't a racist and I would walk over on "their" side to prove to myself that I was not afraid. I was afraid though, but it really made me uncomfortable to think that maybe I was biased, so I ignored my fears. So it was during the day walking back from the Quality at Central Park Plaza that I was violently mugged while cars passed me by. It was the first (but not last) time that I would be victimized by a stranger. I did not go to buy groceries at the Quality anymore, but I could not escape the violence, which was on my side as well.

I lived beneath a white teenager and his crack-head mother. It was really such an awful experience, because I would hear him beating his black girl friend on a regular basis. One time I woke up terrified as plaster was falling all around me because he was beating her so bad. The police were always called, but they never could do anything. Violence was all around me, not just contained to "their" side. Still the contrast between "their" side and "our" side is so sharp. One time while walking to Eckerd I heard all these gunshots coming from the "other" side and had to turn back home empty handed. In the subway tunnel, gang activity was high. People were occasionally beaten in the stations and on the moving trains. Another time I was coming dangerously close to being attacked by a group of thugs, but a group of girls saved me by scolding them for giving black people a bad name. It was such a relief and I was glad to let the girls know that the majority of the blacks I knew would never do such a thing. I was punched in the face once while just sitting minding my business on the train. Sometimes at Utica station I would hold my breath because I was scared that kids with guns would one day start shooting at each other and I would be struck by a stray bullet. This really was not an irrational fear that I had, but one that came about after countless episodes telling me that it was not safe.

Now I live on Elmwood and the violence has not stopped. Yet I don't feel like I'm going to be hit by a stray bullet and don't walk around with my keys protruding from my fingers so I could quickly gouge someone's eyes out. (Maybe I still should) To me it doesn't matter what race you are if you sincerely are concerned about safety than it might be a better choice not to live in certain areas. However! Nowhere is safe, as I very well know.

So if you have read this much, thanks for listening. There are not any quick fixes to these problems that I am aware of, but I would imagine that poverty plays a very strong role.