Sunday I hung around at Bruce and Chris's again. We watched some of the Chris' experimental films. Yikes! He's made "O.J.'s secret tape." and "Candi's Picnic." Candi's Picnic contains almost every sex-fetish you'll ever run into, yet it's done in the style of a children's movie-- everything is plush, cute and cuddly. I also saw some of his industrial stuff, including an 8 minute piece about the installation of a million dollar painting at MS.

Sunday evening, we went to the Beacon Hill Pub for a beer. It used to be a neighborhood gay bar. Now it's a straight club. They had the worst karioke that I have ever heard.

I've been working late this week. Next week I'm going on Vacation to Toronto, so I want to finish off my work projects before I leave.

I don't have much else to write about. I did write a short essay about my husband hunt. After I read it, it sounded whiny and stupid. Most every man who has ever wanted a husband has been in the same situation I am. There is nothing new about my husband hunt. I just have to meet a guy I'm attracted to, date him and hope for the best. Meeting someone you are attracted to, who is available, and who lives close enough to you so that you can date them, has never been easy for anyone.