Apple of My Eye

I'm in love! With Mac. Yes, a sparkling silver 2015 MacBook Pro is now mine. All 19 inches!

Why, it's so sexy! It even spoke to me in a baritone at the outset. The prompt sounded just like the recorded male voice that makes announcements on the subway. But maybe it's just the way voice-over guys are taught to enunciate.

We're carrying on a mad affair now since I ditched my ex. My ex and I had been together since 2008. The strong silent type. But, sadly, it developed Alzheimer's and little by little lost all its faculties.

I bought that first computer at TekServ back in '08. They gave very personalized service. They are located in Chelsea. I love the Apple glass house in NYC's Meatpacking District but the also-chic shop on Prince Street is located very near to my R train direct to my street in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. So that's where I bought baby and brought it home.

I'd been dragging my feet on buying this necessary item as I have this blog (started in 2009) to keep up. But now Mac is here with me and life is sheer bliss again.

When I bought my new Mac yesterday, I had just tested for a little temp work in midtown. I cabbed it to Prince, thinking that would save time but midtown traffic was gridlocked until we passed 34th Street. Therefore, I thought it was wise to take the subway home at 4 pm. Wrong. A rail problem delayed me so badly that a normally 45-minute to one-hour trip turned into a 2 and one-half-hour subway saga.

Nonetheless, Mac and I made it safe and home alone together. Since 2008, Apple has certainly made loading a lot easier; less muss and fuss. I was up and running in no time.

Customer service at Apple SoHo was top-notch. Thanks to my young, good-looking sales rep! Who knew buying a computer could be such an all-around sexy experience?

A Bouncing Bundle of Brooklyn

Well, I just knew that, after I moved to Brooklyn, the borough would become tres chic! And so it has. Brooklyn Decker has emerged as a successful model/"actress"! David Beckham named his son Brooklyn.

Why, if I had a kid, I'd name it Bayridge!

Today, one of New York City's free papers, AM New York, had a front-page article about the trend of naming kids (mostly girls) Brooklyn all around the country and, in fact, the world. It's the 28th most popular name for girls that is also a geographical name. How cool! Does anyone name their ankle-biters Queens? Manhattan? Bronx? Why, I have the urge to go out and adopt a rugrat right now and name it Staten Island Beaverhausen. (Though Coney Island Beaverhausen might be more appropriate, living with me. Hectic Cyclone of a single parent, freakshows and all!)

The only place that Brooklyn is not a popular name for a baby? New York fucking City, people! Can you believe it?

The Brooklyn borough president's excuse was that New Yorkers felt that would be "overkill." Thing that makes me go hmmm.

Yes, there are celebrities named after cities (Paris Hilton! Cheyenne Jackson! Julie London?) But not many named after boroughs. There are neighborhood names. Chelsea is popular. Not so much Chinatown, Soho or Midtown, though I find those delightful toddler names!

Well, koochy-koochy-koo, little Brooklyns! I wish you well with your atttention-grabbing name. Now, how are you going to live up to it? Pressure from the cradle.

Phobiphilia: The Joy of Being Afraid

Phobiphilia is the love of phobos, the Latin word for fear. Embracing all your inner demons can be a beautiful thing even as it turns you into a nail-biting, tongue-chewing, nervous-knee-syndrome mess. 

I admit I'm afraid of people; I definitely have agoraphobia but I'm also afraid of being alone. Why, I'd get a pet except for the fact that animals scare me! You never know what'll happen When Animals Attack! Haven't you seen those videos?  I have arachnophobia (spiders), ophidiophobia (snakes), cynophobia (dogs) and the birds is coming! The birds is coming!

I'm even afraid of plants (botanophobia) and have written about this before. http://djbuddybeaverhausen.blogspot.com/2013/07/video-beaverhausen-little-shop-of.html

I'm afraid of lightning and thunder. I'm afraid of rain and of sunshine (fear of melanomas). Basically, I'm afraid of weather.

I'm claustrophobic, so I moved to New York City to heighten my phobiphilia. The big city, bright lights also engaged my chromophobia (fear of bright colors). I tend to choose bright colors when I shop for clothes ~ just to scare myself when I look in the mirror (or maybe I choose them because I'm a gay man). Fear of mirrors is called eisotrophobia. Not to be blinked at if you've ever seen me when I get up in the mornings. That first shock at the medicine cabinet as I run my shower gets my adrenaline going even before my initial cup of java! "When did Chaz Bono get in my house and why is her hair such a mess?" I ask myself before realizing.

Of course, I'm afraid of circus clowns. Isn't everyone? However, Im not at all paranoid. Why are you snickering and going on Facebook, telling people that I am? Unlike Erica Jong, I have no fear of flying; just take-off and landing.

I hate the word homophobia. It's not a phobia. You are not scared; you are an asshole.
Read more at http://www.snopes.com/politics/sexuality/freeman.asp#AJwYEMQCTmRKMxJf.99

Actor Morgan Freeman explained that he hated the term "homophobia" because "You're not afraid. You're an asshole." Assholes, both the literal and the figurative, scare me.

Can any deodorant really take the worry out of being close?

Sex scares me. But so does the dreaded thought of abstinence!

I hate the word homophobia. It's not a phobia. You are not scared; you are an asshole.
Read more at http://www.snopes.com/politics/sexuality/freeman.asp#AJwYEMQCTmRKMxJf.99

I'm afraid, passing people on the street, that we'll become discombobulated and body slam each other. I'm afraid of my cell phone (cancer to the brain?), the microwave (more cancer?), tv, the computer and even the oven and my refrigerator.  (I worked with a woman whose sister suffered from third-degree burns when her fridge exploded one night. I imagine she was sleeping on the floor, right next to her combustible Frigidaire, in case she needed a late-night snack.)

I fear cooking because I fear fire and gas. I fear ordering out (who knows who's going show up to deliver your food or what's in it) and dining out is impossible because of the agoraphobia. Yet, still, somehow, I manage to gain weight, which scares me!

The weirdest phobias I ever heard of were Billy Bob Thorton's. He's afraid of plastic cutlery and antique furniture. Oh, God, he'd never survive a visit to my place! Billy Bob scares me.

Award-winning poet and author Robin Morgan wrote a poem entitled "Phobiphilia." I understand it opens with the line "Do you smell smoke?" and ends with "Do you smell someone burning?" I would have read it... but those lines scared me off.

You know, I scare myself sometimes!