Usually when I fall behind in my writing I don’t back track. But I feel that this entry is deserving of a little time trip backwards. Last Sunday I was the guest celebrity judge for the Purse Party. Yes, the Purse Party. It was orchestrated by Vernon Wall of Iowa and was a fundraiser for an AIDS charity and a shelter for women.

I am all for charity and having it in P’town made it all the more appealing. Ms. Richfield, a local entertainer was the MC and a damn good one.

Every year a group of guys get together for their vacation in P’town, the boys hail from Iowa, Georgia and as far away as California. They all donate some cash and some of them participate in the contest that bears the name of the event. The rules are simple, create a purse and a pair of pumps to be judged by the judges and have a good time. Every contestant was introduced and asked to tell a little about their entry; what it was made out of, how they made it and where the inspiration came from. Those that were immediately dismissed were those that purchased their purse or lacked any creative drive. We narrowed it down to 3 finalists. The third place contestant purchased his purse and only qualified with a small Velcro attached pouch that he added. Looking at his entry you can see why he made it to the final round.

The second finalist was a close second indeed. His imagination and the time he invested did not go unnoticed.

But there cannot be two number ones.

This purse was made entirely out of chopsticks. It conveyed a political message of which I have no recollection, I should have written it down. Anyhow here is a picture of me with the winner, whose name I forgot!

I really need to be more attentive to the details. Forgive me, winner of the 2006 Purse Party. Congratulations Vernon on a great party and for raising more that $600 for some great charities. I had a wonderful time and look forward to helping you out in 2007.

I decided that I would go to P’town yesterday. Having lived there I know that Saturday following the fourth is the day of transition between two very different sets of gay men. The circuit crew was here since last Sat for P’town’s legendary 4th week and would be departing just in time to cross paths with bears coming in for Bear Week.

For those of you a little lost, a bear by definition in the gay world is the kind of guy that doesn’t necessarily fit the stereotype of your typical gay male. They are usually hairy, stocky and like to drink unlike their circuit brothers who are closely manicured and usually sip on water all week. Anyhow, I chose this time deliberately because the circuit crowd would be a bit more than I care to handle these days. Don’t get me wrong, I still like to hang with those boys, but not on my home turf. I would much rather partake of that when I have a hotel room and a departing plane ticket.

I also find the bears much easier to deal with. They are not so concerned with how they look to themselves or other people and that allows them to open up and fully enjoy themselves. Unlike the standard gay clones that rarely venture far from the herd, bears are not afraid to say a simple eye contacted “Hello!” Confidence and an outgoing personality are so much sexier to me than a six pack and a pretty bum.

All I needed was the day yesterday to enjoy and feel like it was time well spent. Plus, I needed to get the first batch of my newly resized T-shirts to Ruff Ryder for sale. My day was spent hanging on the beach in front of my house and strolling up and down the main drag, Commercial St. Walking among this new crowd I myself felt more confident and at ease. Their attitude is impossible not to taste, the confidence exudes and is easily taken in. All good things must come to an end as I needed to get back today to get myself ready for my work week. I have a very good friend and his partner coming in from LA to P’town and staying at my place come Tues for a week. This is the man that took me in my first summer and that I lived with that summer and my next. We also spent the winter together between those two summers in South Beach. Needless to say I owe the man. I am totally stoked to be seeing him this Thurs for the weekend in our “hometown” where it all began.

My camera that Billy gave me is starting to show signs of decay. It took me several tries to power it on and a couple more to get the display screen to come up. I have been eyeing this cute little pocket sized Cannon and I think that this will be my new best friend. Boy Wonder is going to love it. I managed to get a couple shots of the view from my beach for the entry today and you all can expect to start “seeing more” on here very soon.

After work on Saturday, which was one of the slowest nights I have ever seen, Saya, a co-worker and good friend, and I decided that we would love nothing more than to escape Boston for a couple days and head up to New Hampshire. Why you ask? Well, her Mom and Step Dad own a lovely home with east facing windows on a lake that spans a good couple of miles. This is the kind of thing that you see on postcards or on the big screen. Huge green leafy trees intermixed with powerful strong pines that line the lake humming with the sounds of bull frogs and the distant laughter and splashing of children. What we love to do best there is float. They have a couple of full length air inflated rafts that we blow up, throw into the water and do nothing but float around on and talk. This being the first time I had the chance to lay in the sun this season, I got greedy and stayed out a bit too long resulting in a mild case of sun stroke. Not to mention a mild case of sunburn.

I had Saya take a snap shot of me on my lazy raft. I wish she had taken it so you could get a glimpse of the mountains and trees behind me, but just use your imagination.

I have to work tomorrow. We are one of the only restaurants open so I think the night should be lucrative. At least that is what I am hoping. Last Saturday felt like a snow day minus the snow. The streets were dead, the sidewalks empty and all of us were sitting around the bar in our uniforms talking about anything just to pass the time. I couldn’t remember a night like that before because I have never worked the Saturday before the 4th before. Realizing that, I know very well that the city has emptied with everybody going to the Cape or staying home and having a cookout. When you expect something it makes much more endurable. I knew it was going to be like that so it didn’t hurt… that bad.

Today was the type of day that moved so slowly that there were times I would’ve sworn that it moved backwards. I just wanted the day to end. I had no evening obligations so I felt very hopeful at what I might get into. Today was also the most perfect day this June has seen. I wanted nothing more than to be in it.

On the way home I began to think up some sort of errands that would include minimal contact with the public and maximum contact with the outdoors. I came to mowing the lawn for Sarah. We went shopping for garden supplies last weekend. We opted for a lawnmower that used no gas or made any sound. It is one of those vintage mowers that have the blades going round the axle like a staircase. A little out dated and not nearly as effective, but we will not disturb a soul. Perfect!

To round off our oil defiance, we bought the power operated weed-wacker. So I got outside and got to cut things, pruned the tiger lily bush and edged the yard in the back. It looks great and was completely satisfying to manicure something while having the sun on my back. Yard work has always appealed to me. A sense of Zen the liberty to create is pretty much all I need to be wholly content.

When I was in my late teens I had a job landscaping with a good buddy of mine. It was a great job, we did huge accounts and we rode the mowers then. They had 36″ decks and we stood atop a little wheel trailing from the back with foot racks on either side. It was a fun ride, especially when you would hit a tree root either knowingly or completely off guard. At lunch, Jason and I would climb the nearest tree with our lunches, get high, eat and laugh, then put in a couple more hours riding the “SCAGS” and riding out our buzzes watching the sun set. Good times…

Last night I received a rather amusing e-mail from Rita, my largest fan to date in Pennsylvania. She found this photo of me while surfing the net and wondered if my eyes really were different colors. Totally genuine, I’m really surprised the people at Rascal didn’t have acfew words with me, for changing my eye color in one eye. But as you remember from my tattoo mid way through the making of “Bolt” I like to push the buttons and tug at the limits a bit.