Matthew Gallaway

Keep Hangin On, Lil Climbing Hydrangea

As every1 knows, climbing hydrangea is 'pretty fierce' and will 'stick 2 almost n e thing'
That's why we were 's0000 pissed off' the past few years when 'the shit didn't stick'
sorry 2 say, but h8ed u back then, climbing hydrangea

But this year we learned that the lime in the cement wall was burning ur roots
So we watered the wall rgulrly and leached the lime 'right the fuck out'
U felt s000 much better and r now starting 2 climb ferociously, 'tightly pressed' against the wall
<3 u, climbing hydrangea
happy that u will soon provide a 'verdant wall treatment for the urban garden'
feel like u have taught me a lot abt life
and how u need 2 keep 'hanging on' (via Hüsker Dü/Flip Ur Wig )

"Keep Hangin On (Lil Climbing Hydrangea)"

"The earth belongs to the 2 of us
And the sky belongs 2 the birds
You've given me so much happiness
That I'll wrap up and give u this...
Laying in each other's arms
We're sleepy, we begin 2 nod
And we start 2 dream of grandiose things
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God
You gotta keep hanging on..."

--Grant Hart (miss u)

The George Washington Bridge Project

Miss u, vacation
Wish we were still together
It was hard 2 let u go
Even tho u let me down (via shitty weather)
Sometimes feel like the modern world is 2 'imbalanced' for n e 1 to be happy
Hard 2 exist between extremes of drudgery and 'freedom' (via capitalism)
Wish I went 2 school 4 ______ instead of wa$ting so much time learning how 2 b a ______
Felt sad walking across 35th and 5th 2day
Yesterday I owned it
Today I was a 'cog in the wheel'
Felt like an apparition of my 'true self'

< 3 u, George Washington Bridge
Feel like u are a 'bridge' b/w my past and future
Just want 2 kick back with a whiskey and let u bring the same order to my thoughts as u do 2 the millions of cars that stream over u every day

Srsly. Worried there won't be ne 'true international starz' in the post-MJ era
Not sure there are still miracles in 2k9.5 (via depletion of 'natural resources')
But if u hear of 1, will u let me know (via Twitpic?)
Just want 2 believe in the world
Like I used 2

A Day On Which I Was a Gay Blogger and a Digital Activist

Today Eric -- whose blog I always recommend -- was kind enough to invite Stephen and me to march in Gay Pride with a contingent of NYC bloggers and 'digital activists,' organized by Father Tony (who was also kind enough to let us tag along). (Bonus meme: can u guess who Father Tony is in the above picture?)

I was worried about being late for the parade, and Stephen was like, 'don't worry, these things run on gay time.' Boy was he right! We sat in the staging area on 54th Street between 5th and 6th for a minor eternity. Every1 had different ways of passing the time: Stephen and I sat on the curb and ate soft pretzels; some 'zany lady' did tai chi; the tallest drag queen in the world paced back and forth and hypnotized every1 w/the incredible patterns on her dress; a group of young lesbians invented a cheer: "What do we want? To march! When do we want it? Five hours ago!"

Some of the costumes were very convincing!

But then we finally started; we turned on to Fifth Avenue, which was srsly a rush -- it was packed! Some of my favorite blog chants included:
"What do we want? Bandwidth! When do we want it? Now!"
and
"We're here/we're queer/we blog/get used to it!"

It's safe to say that we were not the most glamourous group in the parade.

But we did have Joe.My.God!

The parade organizers wisely put us between a Peruvian group and a Puerto Rican Jackson Heights float (pictured above).

Every1 seemed 2 b having a gr8 time.

Except for maybe these 2, who 'woke up on the wrong side of the bed' :(
Feel like most h8ers like this secretly want 2 get their _____, don't u?

In a parade on a bright sunny day, it's easy 2 believe that change is imminent.

Srsly. Wish that she was our president/U.S. senator/state senator/mayor/city council member instead of ____.

Got home to Wahi, where the birdz were still flying in circles.

The GLBT Washington Bridge Project

Happy 'Pride' every1!
Feel like a better word might b 'relief' tho
If u think how much 'shittier' life would b if u were str8
I'm not saying u have 2 'suck ___' or whatevs 2 b 'geigh'
It's more like a way of looking at the world
And not being afraid 2 see it through 'different eyes' (via heavy 'satch' on photoshop)
And 2 tell ur 'truth' (via Richard Rorty)
It's kinda like whether u wanna b 'mainstm or alt' (via Carles)

Sometimes wish I could have been more main$tream
And worked at Goldman/AIG/JP Morgan
So I could have 'chilled in the burbs' and believed in god/capitalism (via Costco)
Instead of feeling like a 'fggt/foreigner' in my own country (via life in Wahi/Prez Obama)

But don't want 2 have 2 many regrets
Just want 2 own my past
2 make it seem like I 'willed it'
Instead of the other way around

Guest Blogging by the Editorial Assistants

do u ever like 2 sit on these 'zany puff catcessories' and think about shit?

srsly. worried abt the world in 2k9.5//feel like the first six months were 'pretty sad'

wish i knew 'the secret of happiness'//feel like time has already passed me by (via 'my life as a cat')

s000 tired
just want 2 sleep 4ever

Goodbye, The Pines

Goodbye, the Pines
Miss u, even tho u were cloudy/rainy/cold/drizzly/foggy 'the whole fucking time we were on vacation'

<3 u for not having cars
Feel like u might be the 'new Venice' in 2k10 (via flooding)

The beach was always empty.

miss u, lil cardinal
hope 2 see u again sometime
wish we could have 'chilled' more

The sun came out as soon as we boarded the ferry
Tried not 2 take it 'personally' 

Sat in traffic for ten years (h8 u, nyc)

Happy 2 b 'home' in Wahi with lil Z (pictured), Dante and Elektra

hello, GWB//did u miss me?

The Pines Project: Killed by Bad Weather

On this, the last full day of our vacation in the Pines, I went out to the deck and was overcome by the bad weather, which as followers of this blog know (or I guess n e 1 who lives in the NYC region) has been 'totes horrendous,' with only a few fleeting seconds of sun the entire week.

I was knocked over by the bad weather, the only consolation being that I miraculously managed to keep the drink upright.

This did not last, however; soon I was killed by the bad weather.

The drink spilled, wasted, like the remaining years of my life.

The gray skies descended and laughed mercilessly at my lifeless condition.

Even the potted flowers were not allowed to thrive.

I lived for a little while, and now that life has ended (via the worst weather ever recorded for the month of June).
I was and was not sorry 2 go.
'Goodbye cruel world'//miss u

A Bird on the Wire

Today we went to the beach at low tide.
The sky remained heavy and foreboding.

The hard sand was much better for walking.

We admired the cross-hatched patterns made by the retreating waves.

I felt warm from the walk and exploited this by jumping into the ocean.

I rode a wave.

We arrived at Cherry Grove, which in many places is decidedly less upscale than the Pines.

Although there is a hilariously ornate hotel -- the Belvedere -- that has apparently existed for hundreds of years.

There seems to be an interest -- perhaps lamentable -- among property owners in Cherry Grove in 'punny' property names.
We couldn't decide if this was a pun or not.

This most certainly was, however.

On our way back to the beach, we admired a lil sand dollar.

We arrived back at the Pines in time to see a terrifying cloud formation overhead.

The sun did come out for thirty seconds at around five o'clock.

It quickly disappeared behind the clouds, however, as if embarrassed to be seen.

There is a cardinal who lives here, and his color is a brilliant shade of red.

"Like a bird on the wire,
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free."

-- Leonard Cohen

Infinite Grays and Lush Greens

Today in the PInes the clouds were infinite, dense and ominous. In this shot -- taken at the harbor -- the blue sky appeared, but only for a second; within minutes, there were practically snow flurries.

I distracted myself by admiring a pine tree -- some kind of juniper, I believe -- that was supporting a Virginia creeper vine. Although I wouldn't characterize the relationship as symbiotic, both plants appear healthy, at least for now. One thing about a gray sky it that it brings the many green tones of the surrounding vegetation into a kind of hypnotic relief. I probably could have stared at this single tree for hours at a different point in my life (via LSD), which made me nostalgic for the past.
The ocean was marked by rolling waves.

The night was exceedingly quiet, as all the revelers have gone back to their 'shitty day jobs' for another week.

The boardwalks were dark and lonely, but peaceful; they seemed to represent the uncertainty of the future, the paths by which we must all walk into the unknown.

Breaking the Waves

This afternoon, Stephen escorted our friend Thomas -- who had endured enough rain for one weekend -- back to the ferry.

I stayed behind and took photographs of the sky, which though not exactly filled with sun, had turned an almost iridescent shade of white.

Lest you forget, we are in The Pines.

After Stephen got back, we went for a walk on the beach.
We passed a group of volleyball players, one of whom was later overheard to say: "I think we made better use of the beach 2day than n e one else." I wasn't sure if I agreed, as I made clear to Stephen: "Wait until they see my blog post," I said, although I have no reason to think any of them are regular readers.

A bird landed nearby and I wished that it would turn to the side, for a better shot.

As so often happens with birds, however, it immediately flew away, as if taunting me. I've learned not to take this sort of thing personally, though.

The waves were in good form today, rolling up to the beach in perfect curls.

I thought about all the different things in life for which waves can serve as a metaphor. I remembered how much I used to like Lars von Trier (via Breaking the Waves), but how I haven't seen any of his movies since Dancer in the Dark, which I hated (s0000 boring).

I became intrigued by the abstract patterns in the sand.

I tried to imagine what this driftwood looked like five or ten or twenty years ago, when it was part of a living tree, and whether it was coming home to rest (via installation in a Fire Island garden) or heading out to sea, to continue its journey to another part of the world.