AIDS. There I said it.
AIDS.
Oh, wait. Sorry. I wasn’t making a cheap AIDS joke.
I was merely thinking aloud. I have to get an AIDS test today.
My friend Kazuyoshi and I have been talking about going to get HIV tests together, mainly because we’re both single and both TERRIFIED to go alone.
Also, he’s been bugging me to make a pie for him. He’s heard about the PIEMAN OF GRAHAM AVE (i just coined that phrase) and he wants in on the action.
Anyway. Why not make a day of it, I said to myself?
This is a picture of a crystal skull vodka bottle that i filled with coffee. It has nothing to do with this blog entry, but I felt it was manipulative and ominous.
FORESHADOWING!!!!!!
I’ve been blind baking pie shells lately. A real NIGHTMARE. It’s totally different than baking a double crust pie. You use a blind shell when you make pies that use a chilled or non cooked filling. Like custard pies, silk pies, key lime… That sort of stuff. I SAID KEY LIME!!! KEY. LIME. WHY DO YOU ASK A QUESTION AND THEN LEAVE THE ROOM???? DRIVES ME CRAZY!!!
So you roll out the crust, line it with tinfoil and then weight down the inside to keep the crust from rising, and making a dome shape instead of a pie crust shape. Most bakers use ceramic weights that you can buy. I use change from my dresser top. Six of one, half-dollar of the other, I never say….
The free, anonymous clinic is on 28th and 9th. The one I go to is at least. I want the test to be anonymous, or semi anonymous, because I want to decide how public I want to be about it, if I ever do contract HIV. I opted for semi-anonymous, which means you get written results, but they take your driver’s license number and probably hound you if you turn up positive.
Still. It’s nice to have those papers, as ephemeral proof that you don’t have a hard-to-identify super virus attacking your immune system.
I get the idea the people in this poster are not ready to have children. I hope they don’t have the baby, because they don’t look like they trust each other a lot right now. Actually, it occured to me that the man feels like he was molested or raped. He’s not AT ALL glad to have had sex last night. He didn’t plan it. Did she rape him????
WHAT HAPPENED?!!??!!??
NO. NOT YOU. NOT!!!!! YOU!!!!!! GO BACK INTO THE OTHER ROOM. I’M BLOGGING.
This was a custard pie, which involves bringing milk and sugar to a simmering boil, then adding egg yolk and chocolate and vanilla. Essentially it’s making chocolate pudding, but much better pudding than that crap you can get in the grocery store.
I chilled the custard in the fridge.
On the way to the clinic I met up with a number of straight people I know. It was one of those serendipitous days in New York City where you meet just about every goddamn person you ever did comedy with, went to college with, or used to work at a bar with. They all asked ‘where are you headed.’ Now, mind you:
Most of the time that I’m on the way to the Aids clinic I don’t run into people – but IF I DO, and if they are straight, I usually don’t tell them where I’m going. I don’t know why, exactly, but I’ve heard a lot of my gay friends say the same thing. Maybe it’s some internalized shame over being gay, or maybe we’re just trying to spare the straights the quarterly horror of us having to face our own mortality – being in a ‘high risk’ group for AIDS. I don’t know. What I do know is ON THIS DAY, I told all the straights i saw where i was going.
This pie was a nightmare. I had some extra crust leftover, but I didn’t have enough for a full pie. I thought i would just roll the crust out thinner. Mistake. It shrank, and buckled and basically acted like an ASSHOLE. Plus look at it. It’s clumsy and hideous. But it was tasty.
I was surprised at the reactions I got from straight people. Most looked surprised. Mostly this was my fault. “Where are you off to?” they would inquire in a balmy tone of voice. “Off to the AIDS clinic,” I chirped back, trying to mimic their tone of voice as if to say, oh, you know, bank, AIDS clinic, food shopping – ERRANDS!!!
P.S. Sidebar – American Apparel is making a t.v. show? I bet it’s not as good as the British version, which I’m still not totally sold on.
But yeah. Straight people. I guess on some level I want them to know and hear about my AIDS test. I want them to know that I live in constant fear for my life, just for expressing love. And I know EVERYONE can say that. And I know that EVERYONE should get tested every three months. And I know that ONLY GAY AND BI PEOPLE ACTUALLY DO. Because we (along with prostitutes and heroin/meth addicts) are the high risk group.
I whipped cream and then broke chocolate chips up into fragments for the topping.
I’m tired of feeling ashamed that I’m going to the clinic. I’m tired of feeling like it’s gauche to bring it up to my straight friends. I’m tired of them acting panicked when I DO bring it up.
I hope the gays reading this blog will be a little more visible/audible about practicing safe sex. Straight people need to realize that going to get an AIDS test doesn’t make you slutty or depraved – it makes you responsible. We need to shed our shame about it, straights and gays – so that we can acknowledge the fundamental fact that our lives are very different. Being straight can be harder than being gay in ways that gays cannot fathom (childbirth, child rearing, sex with the opposite sex – ew). But being gay ain’t no cakewalk.
Though. Sometimes, there’s pie involved.
Kazu and I both came up negative.
The pie was hideous, but delicious.
Thanks for asking, jerks.
Subtext: If you get Syphilis, make sure it’s WORTH it.
PIEFOLK 
