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Come Rain Or Come Shine: The Debate!!

It started out innocently enough, John and I were talking about the current state of my dating life and about relationships and we ventured into the murky waters of significant songs and lovers. Well I made the comment that for every man I have deeply loved there is at least one Barbra Streisand song that I associate with him. In John's case it was Barbra's rendition of the song "Come Rain or Come Shine". His response, "Well at least there was 'come' in there somewhere." He's such a perv, is it any wonder I adore him still?

It was the nest line that got us in trouble. He followed his "come" statement with, "And you know that the best rendition in the world is Judy's don't you?" (BTW he's referring to the Carnegie Hall concert, which was Garland's greatest performance.) To this I laughed (big mistake) and "No, no, no. Barbra's version was WAY better than Judy's, I'm sorry. Barbra's had passion and slow sensuality with these great vocal jumps. Judy's was just drunk and hammy."

You can guess his reaction: "WHAT!?! I can't believe you just said that!"

And thus began an interesting debate, who's version is better? Judy's or Barbra's? He claims Judy's has passion and genuine emotional delivery, where as I said that Barbra's (which he hasn't heard) has the same thing except more so and with raw sensuality. is sensual. It has these great guitars and piano that then erupt into these vocal expanses. Judy's is too cheesy and show tune-ish, and starts out with bongos like a Ricky Ricardo's nightclub act. Don't get me wrong I love Judy, but there were just certain songs she didn't do well. This one of them. And in true fairness the same applies to Barbra.

I said to him, "Judy's just didn't do it for me. I am a dramatic person, especially where love is concerned and Barbra is a dramatic performer. Her version is like me, it just grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you and makes you understand that I'm going to be around no matter what and at the same time conveys the volcanic sexuality bubbling beneath the urgency of the message."

He was stunned and said, "I just don't know what to say. I have to regroup. I can't imagine there is a better version than Judy's." To which I replied, "Well I'll play Barbra's version for you." He was like, "I refuse to listen to it! I can't diminish the memory of such perfection by even considering another version!"

I laughed and before I could say too much more my cell began frantically beeping at me, signally the end of its battery life. So there you have it.

Now, I pose the question to you all. Which version is better? Is it Judy's version or Barbra's version? Listen for yourselves and get back to me. I think I may just construct a poll about this later...

Guilty Displeasures

Last month I preordered Barbra Streisand's new album, and second collaborative effort with Barry Gibb, Guilty Pleasures (Guilty Too in the UK). After 25 years of waiting for Barbra and Barry to re-team the expectations for this release were very high and I'm sad to say that mine weren't met. To be honest, I am very disappointed.

The original Guilty album was pure magic. From the first track to the last the listener was transfixed and carried along, in short an instant classic. With Guilty Pleasures that instant, mesmerizing magic is not present. Which is a shame, because the album is close to Barbra and Barry's original brilliance, but really does falls short of meeting the platinum standard they created with the original.

Part of the problem with Guilty Pleasures is that it tries too hard to be too many things musically: Pop, Ballads, Dance, New Age, etc. It lacks the consistent mood and unified sound the original Guilty had. With the original, while the general musical style was the same throughout, each song was bombastic, expressive, and unique. No two tracks sounded the same. The songs on Guilty were written and arranged so that each one told a story while at the same time flowing together naturally. The style was such that you could either fully engage the songs or just let them fill the background and passively carry you along.

This is not the case with Guilty Pleasures. Many of the orchestrations feel too slick and some even sound the same. This is most notable evident in two of the albums strongest songs, "Hideaway" and "Golden Dawn", which while unique and beautiful, instrumentally sound almost identical. Almost every track on this album attempts to tell an entire epic novel in a 4-minute span (approximately), completely demanding the listener's attention. The transitions from one song to the next are sometimes jarring and clunky and over all aren't natural feeling. As a listener it is like being on a musical roller coaster. You only just start getting settled into the ambiance of one track before you are thrown into another one and have to readjust all over again.

The songs themselves are a mixed bag of weak and strong. The lead single from the album, "Stranger In A Strange Land", is a rousing ballad about those currently serving in the War on Iraq (though that is not stated in the lyrics which are written to apply to anyone serving in a war). The song is powerful and features some great orchestration, but unfortunately suffers from a vocal take that feels a little less than genuine. The song is good but could be better.

The duet "Come Tomorrow", which is the opening track, is a saccharine-sweet pop ballad that immediately highlights some of the many vocal and orchestral weaknesses on the album. Obviously Barbra and Barry aren't kids anymore, but there is something to be said for nixing the cheesy melodies accentuated with synthesizers and singing in vocal ranges that are comfortable. Barbra Streisand's deep, husky voice sounds strained whenever she tries to hit booming high notes and after 40 years Barry Gibb's testicles have finally dropped. His signature falsetto isn't working for him anymore, though his background harmonies still sound incredible.

"It's Up To You" is another song that is pure treacle in a can. Barbra's vocals on this one are very slick and contrived and even the beat is carefully controlled for perfect plastic symmetry. The lyrics are not very inspiring and leave the listener bored and ready to hit the skip button on the CD player.

But these tracks are nothing compared the abysmal dance song "Night of My Life". By dance music standards, which are not known for extreme quality or depth, this is a BAD song and the worst on the album. Britney Spears and Madonna wouldn't record it, and that is REALLY saying something seeing as how both of them are queens of bad dance music these days. Barbra really doesn't have the vocals for dance music anymore and Barry seems to have taken a major stumble with this one lyrically. Lines such as "...love has a colour and colours are many, Blue is for lonely and red is for danger" make one seriously question the usually prolific songwriter's frame of mind. Seriously, was Barry Gibb high when he wrote this song?

As sad as it is to say, Barbra Streisand's last truly great dance song was her 1979 duet with Donna Summer, "No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)". "Night of My Life" just feels like sell out garbage to get the club kids interested and this is further evidenced by the multitude of remixed versions Sony has released of it in the form of singles. The play of this album could have been improved immensely had "Come Tomorrow", "It's Up To You", and "Night of My Life" been left off entirely.

Fortunately, there are some stronger pieces on Guilty Pleasures that help to salvage the album. The song "Hideaway" for example is a soft ballad about a taboo love affair. Barbra's vocals are strong and lush and the orchestration is very organic and reminiscent of the tropical paradise the song is set in. The mood is bittersweet and leaves the listener feeling both warm and wistfully nostalgic.

"All The Children" is another very strong piece. It has a New Age meets Southwestern-Rock feel to it. The song booms and sweeps the listener away and Streisand sounds powerful and radiant. Unlike songs like "Night of My Life" Barbra sings in a deeper, more comfortable key enabling her to belt out the notes in her signature style without causing her voice to sound strained and raspy. Why these two songs weren't used as singles is a complete mystery, especially since a music video was created for "Hideaway".

By far though the best track, and the most overlooked, is "Golden Dawn". It is classic Streisand at her finest. The melody and lyrics are slow, melancholy, romantic, and deeply sensuous. Barbra puts her heart and soul into every note and it shows. Not only should "Golden Dawn" have been placed farther up on the track list, it also should have been released as a lead single with corresponding music video. Instead the song was relegated to being placed near the end of the album and completely ignored commercially.

In addition to the mixed quality of the music, the album length is also a problem. The original Guilty was short (9 tracks) and each song, even the weaker ones, were written and performed for maximum impact. The album play had a very full quality to it that at the same time left the listener hungry to listen to it again and again. You could literally just keep playing it over and over again it was that good and addictive. Guilty Pleasures on the other hand is 11 tracks in length and drags in places, making you wish the album would end sooner rather than later. It is definitely not an album you listen to from start to finish, there is a lot here that can be skipped.

I understand that Barbra and Barry were not trying to remake the original Guilty, nor should they have tried. It is a classic that stands timeless. However part of its timelessness comes from its compositions and musical textures and the techniques used to bring all the tracks together. Guilty Pleasures simply lacks those same elements and could have been stronger and more balanced sounding had better vocal takes and orchestrations been used. When listening to the album as a whole it sounds as if Barbra and Barry were trying too hard at times to make another "hit/classic" instead of just being natural. Guilty Pleasures is close to being brilliant but still needs work.

That said, let me say that I like this album and despite its weaknesses. Guilty Pleasures is not a bad album, it's just not a love at first listen like some of Barbra's other albums such as The Way We Were, Lazy Afternoon, Wet, Guilty, and The Broadway Album.

What Washingtonians Really Think About DC

So Daphne and I were having lunch in Flake Circle this afternoon when this obviously Gay tourist, in his late 30's walked up to us and asks where he can find a "tourist trap" in the city. We told him basically anywhere in the area. He clarified his statement by saying he wanted more than just carts and trinkets, he wanted museums and buildings of historic significance. We told him to go to the Smithsonian Metro stop cause that's where most of the historical buildings and museums were.

This dialogue then morphed into an unofficial opinion pole about DC living. The man asked us outright, "Why live in DC?" Our response? "It's closer to our jobs, that's the only real reason to live in the city. As soon as we can financially and career wise afford to do so, we're leaving." He only seemed half surprised by this but questioned us further about what we thought of DC and it's natives. We basically told him that it is a rude, dirty city of apathy that is poorly laid out and most people are only concerned with themselves and what is on their immediate agenda. If you are an outside or new to the city there is little in the way of help in terms of figuring out the workings of the land. You are just expected to know where you're going and what the social rules are. In essence, baptism by fire.

He laughed and said he'd been to New York and L.A. and DC just didn't have that special quality that those two cities did. Daphne and I responded with, 'Of course it doesn't DC has no true culture or originality and basically wants to be new York but miserably fails to do so. The man laughed again and agreed.

The bulk of our conversation went like that. He probably asked two of the best people about the truth about DC. In fact nobody around us, who were all clearly listening, even attempted to speak up and defend "our nation's capital" because they all know it's true but most of them are too afraid to say so.

Before he left us the man said the following, which I feel adequately sums up the encounter: "I was talking to my husband on the phone last night and I was like, 'No, no, no we are NOT vacationing in DC. Just watch West Wing, it's so much better.'"

Still Got It Going On

Lately I have been feeling very self-conscious about the extra pounds I have put on over the course of the past 6 months. While I am not a blimp, I have packed on about 15 pounds of fat and it is becoming increasingly harder to fit into my clothes, let alone cover up what God cursed me with. As I told Daphne recently, "We've got junk in the trunk. Unfortunately there isn't enough trunk for the junk!"

I have noticed that my "look ratio" has gone down too. I used to be able to walk down the street and turn the heads of most of the Gay men around. Now I get one or two. I know I shouldn't be so hung up on appearances and superficial attention but damn it I can't help it. Despite my self-confidence and high self-esteem I still have some body issues.

All my life I have been the chubby, awkward, dorky kid that was picked on and made fun of for it. Despite what some people have told me I feel I didn't grow into my looks until my early 20's, and I definitely blossomed after I started going to the gym. At my peak of fitness I was relatively slender, slightly toned, and felt mentally and physically fantastic. Suddenly men were throwing themselves at me and gawking. That feeling of allure and empowerment was nice. Consider it mental revenge for always being teased about my weight in the past by the other catty bitches. These days I feel grumpy, bloated, and overweight. Not to mention un-sexy.

So you can imagine how great I felt this morning when a VERY attractive man in his early 30's couldn't take his eyes off of me in the Metro on my ride in. He looked a bit like Pierce Brosnan back in the 80's and was obviously on his way to work. I was seated in the back of the car and he ended up standing across from me to my left. There was lots of steamy eye contact and flirty smiles. This last off and on for the duration of my ride and unfortunately he didn't get off at my stop. I also didn't chat him up which was short sighted of me. Oh, well live and learn.

Ironically enough I was feeling particularly fat today and sitting down my stomach was in full explosion with no way to suck it in to make it look smaller. Yet despite my "sins" hanging out that man liked what he saw and was clearly turned on. It was a great boost to my down ego, especially on a Monday morning, to feel that desirable to a man who was both good looking and in good physical condition. I tend to attract a lot of attention no matter how I look from troll-like old men.

But it didn't end there. At lunchtime I took a walk up to Flake Circle to have lunch with Daphne and this very HOT and young (I'd say 25-ish) blue-collar elevator technician gave me a smile and eye contact so hot my clothes almost burst into flames! There wasn't a curve on my body he didn't size up and down and approve with a combo look and smile that said, "I want to eat every inch of you!" Yeah. My head was swimming. When I came back from lunch I passed him again on the sidewalk and he got distracted from what he was doing and almost tripped. I felt damn good.

As I'm sure some of you are wondering now, what exactly is the point of this entry besides stroking my own vanity? Well, the point is that even with some extra baggage I still have it going on. I know that as soon as I focus and start going to the gym again I will lose the weight, but at least I know that while there may not be as many interested parties right now I am still a good looking guy at any size!

In Letters Unread

I was going through my professional e-mail account (the one I use when volunteering and order stuff online) reading through mail I hadn't opened in months. I get bad about that sort of thing when I get busy. I just open what looks important and neglect the rest.

Well you can imagine my surprise when I got to an e-mail sent at the end of August informing me that one of the long-time twirlers from the Gay marching band I volunteered with early this summer had passed away. They didn't give the causes but I have my own suspicions on what they were. It's odd, because over the summer when I was around this guy at practices I had an unpleasant nagging feeling that he was sick. There were several times he didn't show up for rehearsals. It makes me wonder now if the two weren't connected.

I find this situation deeply troubling. This is the second social acquaintance I have known who has died in the past year. It has given me shake and reminded me once again just how fleeting life is. People really can die at any moment. And while this man wasn't a close friend of mine (we had a few passing words here and there) he was the close friend of someone else. And maybe that person didn't get the chance to say some last important thing or even see him before he died. It made me think about my own life and my own friends, especially those whom I have not kept in as great contact with.

Life has its ways of slowing you down and grounding you. We get so wrapped up in our own lives that it is easy to forget about someone else's. It's not so easy anymore to keep in contact with people. Everyone else is running around and trying to stay afloat. We have more technology and in some cases greater connectivity but in many ways more disconnectedness.

All I can do in the face of such a sobering situation is to try and reevaluate all that I have been doing and to try and take a moment to connect with everyone important in my life. That is a hard task to achieve at times but at least I will have the comfort of knowing I did all that I could should the unthinkable happen. If you have friends or relatives whom you've grown distant with lately I encourage you to try and make a connection. You never know when they may be gone.

Baltimore Lesbian Nightlife: No Lipstick Here

I spent the night last night at Jay-Anne's apartment in Baltimore. She had invited me on Thursday to come up and go to this lesbian bar called Gallagher's (a.k.a. "The G Spot") and watched some indie play. I had never heard of a play in a bar before, but it sounded interesting and she's still not comfy being in the Gay scene alone so I figured what the Hell and agreed to go.

Unfortunately I encountered massive traffic on my way up and by the time Jay and I got lost in the Baltimore ghetto before finding the place, we missed the play. What we didn't miss though was the clientele and that evening's Drag King show. Neither one of us had seen a Drag King show before and were curious to see how it compared to a Drag Queen show, so we decided to stick around. Besides Jay needed to work on her lesbian social skills.

Which brings me to the actual bar itself. The place was a dirty, cramped, shit hole. Lesbians always seem to get the crappy end of the deal when it comes to facilities. Gay bars on average are much cleaner and in better locations. The lesbians that frequented the place were also VERY butch and rather on the ugly side. To offset this there were a handful of fat pretty girls and one or two skinny ones but mostly it was butch women with "man hands." Jay was very nervous and basically danced with me for a bit while hiding in the corner. I am normally cool with lesbians but there were a few in there so big and butch I was terrified. It was like looking at the escapees of a prison chain gang.

Things only got scarier once the Drag King show started. I will say upfront that I really don't like drag. I find it tedious and dull. You see one show you've seen them all. Dressing up and lipsyncing is not much of an art, and drag performers look scary be they male or female!!! The Drag Kings were a sight to behold. They all looked like men and acted ultra butch, basically the total opposite of Drag Queens. They even had painted on facial hair. Though interestingly enough they made no attempt to sound masculine, unlike Drag Queens which ham up the female vocal theatrics. I like how Jay put it, "The Drag Kings really freak me out. They look like dudes. If I wanted a a man I'd date one!" I feel the same way about Drag Queens.

After about an hour and a half of drag and cliquish butch ladies Jay and I decided to leave. The visit was not a total loss as she learned that she is just not the bar scene type. Despite my relative comfort in those settings I'm not one either. I prefer the direct, low BS of Internet personals.

After leaving Gallagher's we headed across town to the nice middle class district and spent the rest of our evening in Grand Central, which is a multilevel gay bar. It wasn't bad but there were a lot of pretty cliques about and I just didn't see anyone in there that caught my fancy. One older, shaved headed Hispanic man did pay me a lot of attention but I just wasn't into him and there was something foreboding about him and it made me uncomfortable.

After about an hour or so there we went back to jay's place and talked for a bit before crashing. We shared her queen sized bed and my sleep wear (which consisted of a pair of black beach shorts) earned me a hungry look from her and a "YUM!" She is so silly sometimes. I love her!

The next day we had an interesting chat about our gay childhoods and then went to lunch with a friend of hers. After that I came home and got to work on some freelance work. All in all I enjoyed my visit and am looking forward to getting together with her soon for her Bday.

Bye, Bye Boys

Well I finally had to do the unthinkable. After two years of trial and tribulation (and bonus manwhore points) I have been forced to have my famous "boys" removed. For those of you just joining this blog, let me clarify that last statement by letting you know that what I am referring to is NOT the loss of my testicles (those baby's are still quite fine and in place) but rather my nipple rings, which I acquired two Septembers ago. This has been a very big deal for me, as I took great pride in having them and have up until a few weeks ago successfully weather all minor medical ailments related to them.

I am in a state of shock and feel a bit bummed. I also feel a Hell of a lot better physically as they aren't irritating my already swollen and raw nipples. Whatever this infection is that I have it is kicking my ass. I don't know where it came from but my tits hurt like Hell and even minus the rings they still burn. Well the right one REALLY burns, the left one is just tender. *Sigh*

With any luck this thing will clear up soon and if the gods be kind my holes won't have closed over. That is one of my major concerns right now as I don't want to loose the piercings permanently and I sure as Hell don't want to have them re-pierced. It was expensive and painful enough the FIRST time around! I am praying that because I have had them for two years that the holes will stay open long enough for me to heal and get a new set of rings in them. Until that time I'm praying and keeping my fingers crossed.

Paging Dr. Cockhead

So today was my return appointment with Dr. Cockhead. Because the HMO-phobic Clinic only had an opening at 11 am I had to take the day off from work. This experience was primed to be humiliating and unpleasant enough without having to lose a day's vacation/sick leave for it. I did make an attempt to get up extra early and see if I couldn't beat out some of the earlier sickies and get a walk in but after the past few weeks I've had I was too damn tired and it was all I could do to get my ass there by 11.

I knew from my last experience that I would be waiting a while so I didn't even attempt to hurry too much. I got there a little after 11 and signed in and took my seat with the rest of the sick people in the waiting room. The place wasn't packed this time like a stable as it had been the last time and I was relieved. Also nobody looked like they were dying of the black plague so I (literally) breathed a little easier and didn't worry about catching something worse than what I had.

Stupid me though I forgot to bring reading material, which turned out to be a fatal move as there was nothing to read. Well there was "stuff" to read but nothing of interest. I don't know how I missed this the first time I was at the HMO-phobic Clinic but the contents of the waiting room material was completely Republican! The "hot" titles consisted of Time, Forbes, Forbes FYI, (Some ultra conservative and generic tech mag), The Wall Street Journal, a single "Metro Section" page from The Washington Post, and my personal favorite Trailer Living. I shit you not. It was a magazine completely devoted to living in mobile homes and trailers! Before giving up total hope I spotted a copy of People and dived for it. Unfortunately it turned out to be People Español, so unless I was going to learn a new language while I waited (which believe me there was plenty of time to do so) I was screwed for anything to read.

I ended up leaving and coming back in several times so I could make phone calls and try and kill time. I got no service in the dimly lit compound like building. I kept expecting religious terrorists to storm the place at any moment and force us to drink Cyanide-laced grape Cool Aid. During my time spent in the waiting room I heard them page Dr. Cockhead like 10 times for various phone calls and over things. Seems he was either disposed or not their. Either way I had an over two-hour wait. I FINALLY saw the fucker at 1:30 pm.

He entered the appointment closet (I mean "room), that they had stuffed me into, with a schmoozie swagger. The man didn't even know who the Hell I was and he certainly didn't remember my last visit. Beaming at me he asked what I was in for today, and smiling right back I cheerily told him my nipples were infected. He got this shocked "come again?" look on his face. I clarified by adding that they were pierced, which only led him to assume they had recently been done, so I had to give him my entire life story (well just about anyway).

The entire process took about five minutes. He looked at my nips and proclaimed, "They don't look infected to me." I had to keep my sarcasticness in check lest I blurt out, "really? And here I thought it was abnormal that my right teat was swollen to the size of a large grape and bright red and burning. Silly me!" Instead I pointed out the redness and swollenness and described the pain. Dr. Cockhead looked uncomfortable and then prescribed some sulfur-based meds. He told me the rings would have to come out if I were to heal properly (Oh, joy!) and that it would be my choice to put them back in after they had healed (though he couldn't imagine why I'd want to). I was annoyed but grateful he didn't start that "high risk Homosexual lifestyle" shit again. In fact my sexuality never even came up.

After taking my leave of Dr. Cockhead I went to Target and on the way called my friend Pete and met up with him for lunch. That was the best part of the day. I love Pete. He always makes me laugh. He enjoyed the Dr. Cockhead story and agreed with me it was time to get a new healthcare plan.

So that's that. Tomorrow I have to go to a piercing place and have my rings removed. The rings I have in are the ones they pierced me with years ago, and I can't get them off plus if I recall you need pliers to get them off. Yeah, fun. I have bought a pair of endless hoop earrings like the kind I wear in my ears and as soon as this infection clears I am going to put those in because they will be easier to take care of (provided my holes don't close up in the meantime).

Return To The HMO-phobic Clinic

Well my worst fears have been confirmed, there are NO Gay-friendly doctors on BCBS's HMO plan. That means that if I want to get good health care I have to switch to the PPO plan and pay more. Good healthcare is worth paying for, and unfortunately the time has come for me to start paying for it. Too bad I can't switch now in this hour of need.

Yes I need to go see a doctor (unfortunately). I usually am very healthy with the constitution of a horse. But every now and again I have my weakened immune system moments. This is one of those times, except more embarrassing. For you see my boys have become infected. And not just mildly infected I am REALLY infected, to the point that home remedies aren't curing the infection or reducing the swelling.

I don't know how this happened, or what triggered it, but from all indications it's not sexual. I am yet to hear of a pierced nipple related STD. But what this does mean is that I am going to have to go back to the HMO-phobic Clinic and see Dr. Cockhead again!

I know, I know why not go see another doctor. Well he's my primary care physician and the HMO-phobic Clinic is the one that is geographically easiest for me to get to (and also not in a bad section of town). I tried making an appointment with another doctor in the clinic but they were all full so I had no choice. I am in too much pain at this point (my nips are on fire) to be choosey.

I'm really depressed and angry about this. I am also in chronic pain. I hate being put over a barrel like this, especially when bigoted, homophobic Republican doctors are at involved. But what can I do? Sigh I'm telling you though, come December I am upgrading my plan. If I have anything to do about it this will be my LAST willing visit with intolerant medical technicians!

Why I Became A Web Designer

Since I went to and returned from the Laura Branigan Spirit Of Love gathering I have been thinking a lot about Laura and what she meant to me as an artist and the impact she had on my life as both a listener and a person. At one point during the event we were asked to share any stories we had about Laura and how she changed our lives. I felt bad because I didn't have a story to share. In fact for the year prior to her death I hadn't been following her career as closely as I had in the past. You can imagine how guilty I felt once she died. It's true that you never appreciate something until it is gone.

With that weight on my mind and the incredible experience of meeting such passionate and devoted fans I have since turned to some deep introspection. I have thought back to when I first discovered Laura "officially" It was the summer of 98 and I saw her Branigan 2 LP in a Goodwill thrift store. I was instantly drawn to it and couldn't put it down. I was mesmerized. In reading the songs on the back I recognized the song How Am I Supposed To Live Without You? I never knew Laura was the vocalist on that song and had always liked her version. I would soon learn that there were many songs by her that I loved but never knew were hers. The LP was in crappy condition so I didn't buy it. Instead I did something I never do. I went to a CD shop and bought the CD unheard at full price (mind you I was a poor student at the time!). That night I took it home, played it, and fell in love from that moment onward.

Over the course of that summer I bought all of her albums that were still available on CD. It took me another 8 months to collect the other 3 that were out of print and hard to find. My passion for Laura's music was insatiable and despite the fact that money was scarce I had to have all her albums on CD. I listened to her albums again and again and when I finally had a regular Internet connection scoured the net for information and resources on her.

One thing I noticed was that there was a lack of lyrics. Most of Laura's albums did not come with lyrics, and the Internet surprisingly enough did not provide much in the way of lyrics. A few songs here and there, many of which were not accurate or had conflicting lyrics to another listing on another site. People had basically listened to the songs and written what they thought they had heard, which isn't easy and lends itself to error. Picking up on this gap in information about my new favorite artist I began looking for accurate lyrical information, and listening to the songs 100 times at high volumes, carefully noting each word and vocal inflection. As a result I developed a keen audiophilic ear and a burning passion to spread the magical knowledge I was unlocking with the world at large.

It was around this time that I had begun showing an interest in building websites. I had always had the interest but had not made much of an effort. Once my Branigan obsessions began I knew immediately that I had to build a website devoted to Laura's lyrics. But even more so I wanted to build the greatest Branigan fan site ever. I had big dreams and high aspirations and over the course of two years built what would eventually be known as the "The Laura Branigan Lyric Archive."

All of my heart and soul went into building that site and gathering the lyrics. It brought me closer to Laura as an artist and closer to myself as an artist and young designer. The site was immense and intricate. I didn't have just lyrics, but historical information on songs and even notes about alterations Laura made to a song's lyrics.

The majority of "The Laura Branigan Lyric Archive" was developed while taking classes in basic web development at school. My skill and passion earned the highest mark in all the sections. The mostly finished version of the site was my end of term project for the course and netted me an A+ as well as praise from the instructor as a natural talent. I was so proud. And unbeknownst to me, I had stumbled into a creative field that would become my future career path. Back then it was just for fun, it never entered my mind I could make a living building websites.

Alas the site was never completed fully or launched. Life for me changed after those two years and I spent a considerable number of years after that digging out of a very deep depression. Once I was relatively stable and back on my feet I began working again and after doing additional training eventually got into web design and construction as a career. I still have the files for "The Laura Branigan Lyric Archive" and hope one day to complete the work I started so many years ago.

So what is the real point in this long, reminiscent rambling? Well, I became a web designer as a result of Laura's influence on my life at that time. The passion and love she gave me through her music helped me find a career doing something that I love that is both creative and pays the bills. Which if you are an artist or know any, is always a major concern. Art pays in many ways, but not always monetarily.

I wish I had remembered this story at the SOL gathering. I would have loved to have shared it with everyone there. But even though I didn't remember it then I have remembered it now and it is never too late to share a special memory. It is part of a defining moment in my life and while Laura is no longer here, that memory will live within me forever.

Remembering this now has reminded me just how close Laura was to my heart, even though in the last years I didn't pay as much attention to her music. Her love and passion will always live within my heart and serve as an inspiration. I owe more to her than I ever realized before and I cannot express my gratitude enough. She is one of my heroes and muses. I will never forget what she has done for me through the gift of her art and one day I hope to return that gift, even if it is only in a small way.

To Live And Breathe In The Spirit of Love

For the past three days I have been at the Laura Branigan Spirit Of Love Gathering that was held in Long Island, NY. Friday was a year to the day that Laura died in her sleep from a brain aneurysm. She left behind not only friends and family but also a wide network of loyal fans who loved her dearly and whose lives she touched on countless levels.

It's hard to sum up everything I feel after coming back from this weekend. It was a very small gathering, about 25 people attended, and while not extravagant it was very intimate. I cannot fully describe the beauty and power of witnessing total strangers opening up to one another, laughing, crying, embracing, sharing some of their deepest pains as well as some of their greatest joys with each other. Laura brought us all together through her passion and music. Even in death she continues to inspire and bring people together. Her legacy will never die so long as there are those who keep that bright flame burning.

The Spirit Of Love Gathering was about more than just remembering her artistry and life. It was about coming together as a community, and celebrating the life and love of a woman who has been best described as an angel on Earth. Laura always called her fans her "other half," and that's what it felt like being there with everyone. Her depthless love and compassion transformed us as listeners from a community of fans to a family. A family many of us had never realized we had.

Every attendee of SOL had a story of how Laura touched their lives. Some chose to share theirs and others did not. For myself I am still so overwhelmed. Laura touched my life in a variety of ways but unlike many I can't recall a specific event and situation in which she changed my life. There was so much Laura gave me through her music. There were times and places when a song she had sung helped me get through an otherwise painful situation.

I have to admit that for a long time I have felt very guilty. In the last year or so of her career I grew more distant as a listener. When I first discovered her music I played her songs all the time, again and again. As time wore on and other things, like my years-long depression, crowded into my life my connection to her grew fainter. I was starting to get back into listening to her music again when the news broke of her death.. I was heartbroken I had missed my chance to see her in concert in Baltimore in April of 2004. I had hoped that there would be another chance, but there was not. Sadly enough she died that August and I was forever robbed of the opportunity to see her perform live and meet her.

Those feelings of loss do not weigh as heavily on my heart anymore after spending the weekend with Laura's management and other fans. I feel as if I have met Laura in the best possible way, through the people that meant the most to her. The people who she kept singing for. People like myself. And even more so, I connected with a family that I never knew I had. I feel blessed, not grieved.

It doesn't matter that my devotion had temporarily wandered the important thing is that I never lost my connection to Laura completely, she was always there even if I wasn't. The happy times I knew listening to her music, and still have, live on eternally. Time cannot erase that.

It saddens me to think that it took losing her to make me remember that special feeling I lost contact with so long ago. But I know that Laura wouldn't want me to grieve what transpired in the past, she would want me to keep looking towards the future. I never stopped loving her and even though she is gone she will continue to inspire me throughout the rest of my life. That is a gift I hold more sacred than most things.

With that said I want to thank everyone who made the Spirit Of Love Gathering possible. Everyone who attended and helped me to find Laura Branigan all over again. Words cannot express the depth of gratitude and love I feel in my heart. I can truly say with all honesty that this is an important and defining moment in my life, and one I will look back upon and cherish for the rest of my life.

Travel Log: BWI To Islip

I spent the night with John because BWI Airport is not too far off of his normal course to work. He is such a sweetie for letting me crash at his place and taking me to the airport. We had to get up at 6:00 am and get on the road at 6:30 am. The following is basically my travel log to Long Island. Enjoy!

7:15 am	—	Went through security. The guard was very nasty 'cause I placed my shoes on top of my laptop in the little plastic security bin. He yelled at me, claiming they couldn't see the laptop properly in the x-ray machine because the shoes were blocking the way. Which is fine, and I can understand that, but he didn't have to yell at me for it or be pompous and condescending either. God forbid we actually be friendly in our customer service technique.
7:25 am	—	I just got out of the luggage shop because I forgot to tag my suitcase with colored identifier. While I was in there I got hit on by José, the VERY creepy man who runs the place. We chatted about the security in the airport. He told me that the other day he went through with no underwear on and they stopped him and made him remove his belt. Well he ended up flashing them because when he removed his belt his pants fell down and had to run to his shop to avoid being arrested. He felt it necessary to inform me that he had a big package, or so the people he flashed told him. The revelation was quickly followed by a lead in to a conversation about how cramped the shop was (in between trying to sell me luggage I didn't need). He was complaining about how he couldn't fit all the boxes into the closet sized "backroom." Something I could visually see from where I was standing but which he wanted to show me personally by beckoning me to follow him into the drywall cave. I refused and told him that I could see it from where I was and I needed to catch my flight. That's one of the nice things about airports, you can genuinely use the excuse "I have a plane to catch" very easily and actually be believed.
7:40 am	—	There's no Starbucks here!?! What barbaric Hell have I wandered into?
7:59 am	—	Damn, a lot of these tourists look familiar. I swear I have seen many of them when i traveled to Maine. Or have I seen them on the streets of DC or Baltimore? Who can tell? Very strange...
8:05 am	—	When to the terminal and engrossed myself further into Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince while waiting for the boarding call.
8:45 am	—	Boarded the plane and got a nice isle seat. I like isle seats on planes because they lesson my anxiety and claustrophobia because they are more open.
9:15 am	—	Have taken off. It was very smooth which is also a comfort to my nerves.
10:25 am	—	Landed and have gotten off the plane.
10:30 am	—	Standing outside waiting for the shuttle to the hotel. All I can say is "My moment, my Marlboro."

W.W.B.D.

So with the release of the remastered edition of Barbra Streisand's Guilty album I have been looking through the other Streisand merchandise available on Amazon.com. I came across a great t-shirt that had a picture of the singer from the late 60's and the words: W.W.B.D. What Would Barbra Do?

I started howling with laughter and then immediately checking to see what sizes it came in. For reasons unknown the shirt is only available in womens sizes. This pissed me off as I seriously wanted one. Besides that, the majority of Barbra's listening audience are Gay men. Whoever the manufacturer is they are selling themselves short.

I however will not be discouraged. I have a gorgeous portrait of Barbra hanging on the wall of my office. I scanned the picture from the poster that came with my Taiwanese edition of The Essential Barbra Streisand. I printed out in Word a little sign with the t-shirt's slogan and pinned it under the portrait on my wall. It is fabulous and the perfect reminded when dealing with particularly difficult customers on the phone.

Below is the picture I used for the portrait on my wall with the slogan attached so you can not only see it but also have one for your desktop or website. Enjoy and feel free to save a copy of it to your computer.

Give Us Whores Not War

Who Needs Democracy... When you can have PORN!

Yes, people porn. That's what the Iraqi people want. Just see for Yourself:

OK, so it's just the Iraqi men who want the porn. But still. They are part of the populace too and why shouldn't they have their porn? After all, since Big Brother America invaded... er... "liberated" Iraq the people are free to do what they like, right? I mean they have this newly created democratic government they are running and everything.

And since it's all about promoting the American way of life (as well as filling the overflowing pockets of Republican oil barons) they simply MUST have porn. Why, it would be un-American if they didn't!

Caught In The "Jude"

I know it's wrong but there are times I am happy that the paparazzi get the shots they do. This is perhaps every Gay man's dream come true: A FULL FRONTAL nude shot of Jude Law!

I read about this today on the net and then went in search of this soon to be legendary pic. Apparently he was changing his bathing suit on the front porch of his mom's house in the South of France. I don't know about you but if I were as famous as Jude (especially in light of his recent nanny scandal) I certainly wouldn't be changing in the open like that, even if it is a remote location. It's asking for trouble or publicity. Though I'm not complaining. It's a very nice view of a very yummy man!

Ironically enough many very ignorant Americans have been going on about how small Jude apparently is. What they don't realize is that he is uncut which makes his dick look smaller as it obscures his head plus he is bent over. If you look in the photo (which I will show you in a second) you can see that his cock hangs down BELOW the edge of his balls. And having dated an Englishman of sizable proportions I can tell you that Jude is no small guy. I am guessing based on my own experience and the pic that he is 6.5 to 7 inches when erect. That's quite full!

Just to be sure I was right in my estimates I asked John (the sizable Englishman mentioned above) and this is what he had to say:

"Is this the actual pic that they are discussing? If so, then my experienced eye would have to concur with you... that ain't no small dick! Look at the thickness of the head for one. Two he's bent over so most of the shaft is in the 'dark' and three what you can see is already bigger than average! They're jealous because he's also uncut!"

I couldn't have said it better myself. And now, with that in mind I am presenting the very picture right here for your viewing pleasure. ENJOY!

Unfaithfully Yours

Well I've just been given one more reason to look down upon the ignorant mass and spot-urban development that is Maryland (as if I needed any). According to an article I saw today on MSN.com a woman by the name of Cathy Gallagher, who lives in Bethesda, has created a new greeting card line. No, it's not the idea of greeting cards that have me pissed off it's the subject matter of said greeting cards.

The idea behind this new line of cards is infidelity. Yes, infidelity. And not as in "you cheated on me and I'm in pain and can't forgive you" infidelity, but "to the person whom I'm running around on my partner with I love you" infidelity. Yes, this fat (I'm assuming she's fat as most Maryland women are) cow is cashing in on the cheaters market by making cards specially geared for those involved in extramarital affairs.

According to the article Mrs. Gallagher (yes, ironically enough she's a Mrs.) was inspired to create the collection after she saw a lot of her friends marriages being impacted by affairs. She wondered how the adulterers communicated with each other. Hmmm gee I wonder about that myself. Could it be you stupid bitch that they just go to Hallmark and buy a card like everyone else or use e-mail or the telephone!?! I guess that one was too obvious for someone who is a marketing executive of all things.

As you all can tell I am absolutely pissed off to the hilt. If there is one thing that pisses me off more it's people cheating on their partners. I have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to that shirt and an even lower threshold for people who encourage it like this bitch! She should be ashamed of herself making money on other people's misery especially when her very own friends have been affected by infidelity.

I swear Cathy Gallagher should be dragged from her hill-billie hollow in MD and beaten in the street with a blunt instrument. I hope her husband cheats on her and uses one of her own cards to communicate with his mistress. THAT would be true irony and justice. The woman is no better than her marketing demographic. In fact she's worse. At least cheaters try to keep the shame on the down low, this woman wraps herself in and parades around like a beauty pageant contestant.

It really gulls me how insensitive and ignorant people can be about the consequences of their actions especially when the all-mighty dollar is involved. The saddest part though is that people are actually buying these cards and few are complaining. Another classic example of just what is wrong with American culture and society.

The Crime of Spreading Hope

I read an article today about a 78 year old man who is potentially facing charges for passing himself off as a retired US Marine General and attending fundraisers and veterans gatherings. The irony is that none of the veterans groups that he dept with even realized that he had not achieved General status during his 19 months in the army. Apparently the confusion started when the man, William Lawson, was mistaken by the Shreveport Post as a general and it snowballed from there. He was soon being asked to make public appearances. He went along initially thinking it would fizzle out but it didn't and he ended up carrying on the charade until finally someone checked his credentials.

Now this brings up a lot of issues. In the day and age of national security and information non-privacy how was this man allowed to run around impersonating a general? I'll tell you why, because people are stupid, lazy, complacent sheep. Everyone claims to be looking out for suspicious activity and fact checking but they're not. After 911 security checks became very tight and then over the course of a year or so slacked off again. Despite our lack of innocence we are still inclined to take people at face value, especially when they are 78 years old. And while that is actually a nice thought to think of it makes you wonder how many harmful people are running around impersonating persons they are not who are in positions to actually do damage.

But that isn't so much what concerns me about this case. What really bothers me is the way this man is being treated for what he did. True it was rather disrespectful to fool people about such a touchy subject as military rank, especially since so many have died in combat. But Mr. Lawson was really doing nobody any harm in doing so.

In fact he was spreading hope, and because of his assumed status he became the voice for people whose cries were going unheard. William Lawson made hundreds of appearances to vets both young and old, many of which sick or disabled by war injuries, trading stories and giving these men hope and encouragement. He was a hero to those who once were heroes and now had nothing left but memories of days and healthy lives lost. He spoke out at rallies on such issues as the proper disposal of US flags left on the memorials of dead soldiers. William Lawson's methods might not have been technically honest but his intentions were of the highest moral caliber.

The man didn't seek this lifestyle out deliberately, the situation just fell in his lap. And rather than bask in faux glory, which would have been very easy to do, he actually DID something to make a difference in people's lives. He used the societal power people bestowed upon him because of their perception of what he was to spread hope and promote good deeds. that's more than our own government does.

In a day in age in which there are more devils than heroes visible amongst us William Lawson should be praised for his good works, not punished for a harmless mistake. And really that's what it was. The man didn't harm anyone by what he did. The most that can be said is a negative impact is that he bruised a lot of egos when his true military record was exposed because multiple places along the way people fucked up and now look like asses. If that's a crime then everyone on the face of the planet is guilty.

Bye, Bye Bar Harbor

It's funny how quickly one adapts to a new setting. I have been here a week and it feels like it has been three. I have begun to think of Bar Harbor as my "New Home," yet not too far from the surface of my conscious thoughts I know that it is not really my home but I feel comfortable here. Everything has become familiar to me. I found myself over the course of the last 24 hours looking at everything from the perspective that it was the last time I would be seeing it. I have slowly started to shift back into the DC state of mind. After having escaped the insanity that is the city and lived a completely different way of life I need time to transition back into it. Though ironically enough that old comfortable skin isn't so hard to slip back into.

There is a noticeable difference though. While I didn't accomplish everything I had mentally planned out to do in my head, I realize that I achieved the pinnacle of centeredness I came here for. The clarity and confidence I came here to unbury within myself have surfaced and I am a very different person. It reminds me a little of when I came back from my journey of self discovery I went on last year when my previous ex and I broke up. I am a different person than the one I was before I came here. I have turned another corner. While there are many things in my life that aren't the way I'd like them to be I feel within myself the presence of mind and body to tackle them. I have a new perspective, a new agenda, and a new inner peace.

I am beginning the next stage. While sitting at the edges of the sea I thought and felt the emotions entwined around so many painful situations in my life that in one way or another I have been unable to change or unable to confront. It is time to clean house, to finish the work I started a long time ago. I am at a place where I am preparing for the next portion of the journey. Instead of looking outside of myself at every one and every thing else it is time I turn my fixation upon myself, and the portions of my "former life and mind" that have remained at the back of my mind's shadowy closet. In essence it is time I finish taking control of my life.

Here is the list of "Things to do" so far:

1. Continue To Care For Myself Emotionally And Spiritually. Probably one of the most important things I have to do and one of the hardest. I have to take better care of my mind and spirit and not just my body. I stretch myself too thin and give too much to others. I need to step back and make sure that I give myself enough time and space to breathe and relax. That is one of the biggest keys to staying healthy and accomplishing everything else I have to do. I realize that while I have been on vacation I have been doing nothing but caring for myself and being attentive to my needs. In fact I did so much of that I got sick of it! It's all about balance. For too long I have been taking care of others. From now on I need to take care of myself first, then worry about everyone else.
    
2. Get My Weight And Health Under Control. Seriously. I have been bitching forever about this but I have a deeper resolve and conviction to actually bring this under control. I will never be a super model or catalogue boy but dammit I am an attractive man and there is no excuse for not taking care of myself. Cleaning up my eating habits and routinely working out are just as important as anything else I do in my day to day life. I need to take care of myself and force myself to stay on track. No more excuses and false promises. This will be an ongoing project but it is the first thing I can start to do for myself.
    
3. Drop The Partial "Openly Gay" Façade. Let's face it, I am out to everyone in my life that I get along with in addition to strangers. However I am not out to my father and that side of the family. Oh, sure they "know" I'm Gay but I have never actually stated it and I have avoided the issue and flat out denied it at other times. No more running. My reasons for not telling these people range from information control to simply avoiding drama. It's unhealthy and what's the point? These aren't people I really give two shits about so why am I giving them so much power and control in my life. Fuck that shit. It's funny, this was a realization that came upon me in the middle of the night during my vacation. I had a dream about finally telling these people off. I woke up suddenly and just stared at the dark room and it was like, "Dude! You've gotta do this. If you don't you'll never be free." So there you have it.
    
4. Buy A Place To Live In. It will be rough. It will be scary. I will be stretched to the max but God Dammit I have to move out and quite frankly I don't like apartment living. With that in mind it is time to get serious about loans and funding and house hunting. The Market is crazy right now and expensive. I am also still a little tight on money. I am going to focus on saving money and training myself to budget and be financially responsible. This is probably my biggest challenge next to maintaining my workout routine but dammit it has to be done.
    
5. Fuck Finding A Husband, I Need A Career And Education! You heard me. No more tears people. It may be rough, it may be lonely, but dammit I don't have anything to give anyone else right now, not on that level. After being with John, and having a healthy functioning relationship for the past year, I cannot except second best. I have standards that must be met.
    
   But more so than that I am just not ready. While I want to be needed and feel that love connection I don't emotionally have any reserves left. Besides that it is just one more distraction that will prevent me from working on my own issues and problems. I need to become more financially secure and stable. I also need to go back to school and get a degree. There is no room for a man right now. Casual fucks, yeah every now and then, but no more boyfriends. I have a lot of work to do and it will take me some time. Yeah it's gonna suck at times and I am going to have my week moments (I spent a considerable amount of my nights over vacation drinking to escape the pain. It only accentuated it.) But you know what, everyone goes through this. And right now I need to be with me and me alone. This is my time to grow. No regrets. When the time is right, Mr. Right will cross my path (and be at the same place to give emotionally). Until then I'm a free agent, and that's OK.

BWI (And I Don't Mean The Airport)

It's my last full day here. Tomorrow I leave around noon. I get to indulge in the infinite joy that is coastal air travel. Thank God I picked up a new book this afternoon: Sex And The City. Yes, the same book that inspired the witty, award winning HBO TV series. So I will be well entertained on my way home.

Last night was another story though. I spent half the day exploring the Bar Harbor Village Green. It was not bad. Busy and full of shops and eateries. The shops pretty much carried identical over priced kitschy seaside/country trinkets. Lobsters of course are the main thing here and there is no end to the litany of lobster related paraphernalia you can buy. And for some inexplicable reason the moose is also a big icon here as well. I'm not sure what that stems from and I didn't want to come off as a stupid tourist and ask someone. But they had a whole store devoted to overpriced moose wear.

After exploring the "downtown" area I got back on the LL Bean bus and headed back to Southwest Harbor. The ride was at least air conditioned but once again I ended up sitting in front of a noisy child that kicked the back of my seat most of the way. Note to self: when coming back to Maine bring not only a lover or a friend but also a car!

I spent the second half of the afternoon sunbathing out on the deck again. I am determined to go back to DC with a healthy summer "glow." This paper white skin of mine needs some color dammit. Nobody likes a farmers tan (which is what I've been sporting all summer), especially me!.

After the sun became monstrously obstructed by cloud-cover I moved to sitting in a chair and staring at the scenery. At about 6 I decided to head over to Beal's again for another lobster dinner and a second chance to flirt with the cute Euro boys that work there. Maybe I would get lucky and score. No such luck but the lobster was good nonetheless.

What happened after that will go down in the history book of "Mike's Embarrassing Drunken Exploits." I had started a fresh bottle of white wine with the Lobster. Because the lobster isn't that heavy and wine goes straight to my head anyway after a glass or two I was quite tipsy. I was still staring at the scenery and feeling bummed about the solitude and the fact that I was going back to DC in 48 hours. I was also missing John terribly. Add another glass of wine to that and we have a BAD situation. I decided I needed to get drunk. Correction that I was going to get drunk and it was going to be good.

In order to achieve this goal one bottle of wine was not going to cover it. I needed a second. That would require me going into the local village 10 minutes away and purchasing one. Problem was I was lit up, so getting there would be problematic and chances are some smart clerk would spot the fact I was potted and deny the sale. I decided to take the chance anyway. Besides I wasn't THAT gone... yet.

Getting there was still a problem. You can walk but it takes forever and it was getting dusk. Biking is really the easiest way. But I had been drinking and my motor skills were watery. You can't operate a bike in that condition, or can you? After giving the situation a few minutes of careful consideration I did what any rationalizing drunk would do. I got on the bike and committed a BWI: Bicycling While Intoxicated. Yeah. I didn't weave too badly and kept the near falling over to a minimum. Actually I think the fresh air helped sober me up a bit.

I got to the grocery store and bought the wine and some snacks. The clerks didn't even notice my "bright eyes" and I was impressed that I was able to have an intelligent conversation with them without slipping up. I got back on the bike and wobbled home. One nice thing about my brain when I drink is that I am still pretty with it. I brought my satchel bag with me so I could get the wine home safely.

However it was not going to be just as easy as that. What transpired next is what happens when you decide to deliberately feed your melancholy by drinking heavily and watching reruns on Nick At Night. I called John.

I swear that man is a saint. He could tell right away that I wasn't myself, not only was I breaking the cellular vow of silence but I was also VERY "happy" sounding on the phone. Let's put it this way, I could hear my own loudness and I was the one who was soused. Yeah... He talked to me and I poured my drunken pathetic little heart out. We talked for a few hours and at the end of it I felt better and was painfully sober. He helped me shed a lot of light on some stuff so I am not too upset about the encounter. I'm just embarrassed that I called him up while drunk and admitted to drinking heavily AND smoking. Did I mention the man is in the process of quitting smoking? *Sigh*

So that was my night. After I hung up with him I drank a bunch of water (to head off the impending hangover) and crawled into bed. I slept relatively well, though even as I dreamed it felt as if I were swimming. The world had an underwater feel to it.

Today I decided to forgo hiking. Of all the activities I intended to do on this vacation that was one that just didn't happen. Aside from briefly passing through Acadia National Park on the bus I didn't go into it. The $20 park permit required to enter added to the list of reasons (the Hellish bus included) why I never made it. I just didn't feel up to it in the end, and while I feel moderately guilty it is something for me to do when I come back. I have bonded a lot with nature during this trip and I have a lot of great pictures already, so it's all good.

State of Maine

Apparently "Rolling Thunder Weekend" is a way of life up here in Maine. In fact I have seen more people on Harley's speeding through noisily than I ever do in the city. Amazing.

Though these bikers are much nicer looking than the ones you see back home. They are all middle aged or older and minus the tattoos, that I can see anyway. They all seen like naturalists gone bad. Even with their otherwise benign exteriors there is something off setting about them. Perhaps it's a learned reflex to bikers in general that comes from my upbringing.

Which brings me to another observation. I notice that people look at me apprehensively, until I smile and say hello to them. At first I chalked this up to the usual assumptions about being Gay but then I realized it wasn't that at all. No, people here regard me with hesitation because I don't smile! I am so used to Washington, city of apathy and oblivion where no one smiles unless they know the person standing in front of them. Generally I walk around with a nondescript or scowling expression on my face. It actually feels unnatural for me to go around smiling all the time. The way of life here is much friendlier and trusting. It has taken some getting used to but I think I am finally getting the hang of it.

And lastly, I have learned that dumb slow tourists who walk in huge clumps and stop on the sidewalks obstructing foot traffic are not just in DC, but everywhere! I swear they are as bad here in Maine as they are back home. Apparently a lack of common sense and courtesy are universal among tourists. I think its part of some kind of coda they have to swear before going on vacation. At first I wasn't too bothered by it, but after a few days I found myself reverting to my typical annoyed behavior when at home. I just have no patience for that shit you know. It is not too hard to walk single file down narrow sidewalks or step to the side rather than halting like a pack of saturated fat fed water buffalos in front of storefronts!

Bird Man of Bar Harbor

So this afternoon I am sitting out on the porch eating gold fish crackers and reading a mystery novel when this beautiful gull lands 2 feet from me on the railing of the deck. I guess my sitting out here the past few days stuffing myself and sunning have attracted them. I think the lobster shells I threw them the other night didn't hurt either.

Well I throw the gull a few crackers and it goes nuts gobbling them up. Then it flies to just a few feet below the deck on the rocks. I got the camera out to use up the last of my pictures, and in that time two other gulls had joined the first. I got some cute shots of them. That helped alleviate some of the boredom. LOL

Honestly I am loving the freedom of this vacation but in some ways I am a little too under-stimulated. I am still craving a man like a bitch in heat. I practically stand at the dock rail and mew at any single, attractive man that pass by on bikes on the shore road. I so need to get laid!

OMG! In just sitting here writing this, the gull came back and landed a few feet away and just stared at me, waiting to be fed! I think I have broken some kind of nature conservancy law. LOL I threw him a few more goldfish and in that time 5 more gulls showed up. They even got into a pecking order fight! This is great! Though I should be careful so as not to domesticate them.

I am pleased though at how they have taken to me. I have managed to lure a few of them from the neighboring vacant dock over here. They just stand guard like my personal sentinels. Is this what big city separation does to a man?

And just on a side observation I think the gulls (at least the one that seems to be my new faithful disciple) REALLY like Janis Ian's classic album Between The Lines. What can I say he has good taste! I have influenced the evolution of nature!

Coupling, Coping, & More

Something I have noticed about Bar Harbor is the contrast between isolation and that of families and couples. The majority of the other vacationers here are families with a good slice being older (50+) married couples. Of the other younger people here they are also coupled and that is 100% true of the Gay men here. I am, I think, the only single Gay man in the whole of Southwest Harbor, maybe even the entirety of Bar Harbor. Who can tell?

Despite the fact that I came here seeking solace and quiet I find increasingly more that I am lonely for companionship. And not just any companionship, but that of a man in my bed. The room I am staying is very cozy but everything in it is just big enough for two, in fact it almost seems geared towards couples. Everything comes in sets of two except me. I like being alone, it's great but there are times I wish I had someone to share my time with. A reflection of my own deeper desires. I enjoy being alone and having time to myself but ultimately I want and need someone else in my life. Someone whom I can share my solitude with.

I realize more and more just how much my relationship with John meant to me. Oh, I never took it for granted or misunderstood it, but now that we are just friends and I am here alone I feel more deeply than before just exactly what it meant to me. The man is my soul mate I know that indefinitely, but he was more than that. He understood me and made feel not alone even when we were apart. He really did complete me.

I know we can never go back to that again. Our lives came together for as long as they needed to. We will forever be best friends and soul mates. He will never be my husband. That honor will go to another, but I find thinking about that hard. John raised the bar so high for a life partner that I wonder sometimes if anyone else will be able to meet those high marks. Sure I date and enjoy the company and sex of other men, but it's not the same. John filled my life to the point of overflow. That kind of love and feeling doesn't come along everyday and I find every new man inevitably becomes measured against that.

I find myself viewing the couples here, particularly the Gay ones, with envy and pain. I am painfully lonely but also glad to be alone. It's a double edged sword. I am learning and understanding more and more about what I want in a partner. I also must accept that most men will not live up to my high standards completely and that I may never find another who completes me the way that John does. Which is a problem because I don't want to settle yet at the same time I don't want to pass on a guy who could make me happy if I just let him. I don't know, it's such a jumble.

Funny, every time a guy stop along the coastal road that runs by my cabin I entertain these fantasies of him coming over and sweeping me off my feet. Yeah, I'm looking for some vacation prince to magically appear. I'm lonely. I want to feel the companionship for a man in my arms. The touch, the sensuality, the feeling of care and warmth that comes when you share your body with another. Sex is not love but it certainly helps pass the lonely hours a little easier.

It's sick and funny at the same time. I keep thinking that if I go out and get amongst people I can meet a man. What a laugh. You know I also wonder if they perceive me as unavailable. That I am giving off the "I want to be alone" vibe. Who knows? Besides most of the men here are quite ugly and the good looking ones of course are taken. I do want a man though. Just for a night. Someone to give me a magical experience. What a waste of energy that is. Yet I find it hard not to yearn for it. Sigh...

I said many times that I would be content to be alone and not sleep with anyone on this trip. For the most part that is true. But I also have an oversexed and vulnerable nature so I yearn for the company, the feeling. I am quite certain I will be celibate throughout this trip. My intuition tells me that will be the case and that deep down it is the best thing for me. I know as soon as I get back to DC I'll be chomping at the bit to hunt down a man. LOL. Such is my life and my nature.

It's not like I'm completely ignored here. I do get looks when I go into the main town. I occasionally get flirtations from men, but they are always attached. I stand out to everyone. I am the antithesis of a tourists. Tourists dress badly and act stupidly and look out of place. I am dressed well, fashionably, and act intelligently and carry myself with a presence not duplicated around me. I am clearly an outsider and stand out even more than the average tourist. I don't fit in here. I mean I REALLY don't fit in. Many of the visitors are from other parts of Maine, which doesn't help. I guess I look silly and foppish and quite queer yet not many people seem to mind, they just stare at me, as if I am an exotic display piece in a museum. I guess in many ways I am.

Sometimes I question why I came here. Many people, like John who know me well were like, "WOW that seems so not like you. It's so isolated, what will you do?" I like it here though it is obvious this way of life is almost completely opposite from my own. I love the sea and the solitude. The peacefulness and the quiet. Yes I get bored sometimes but it's nice to just sit and be. To do absolutely nothing and not have to be anywhere.

I definitely want to come back here someday. Though next time I want to come with a lover. Someone I care about a lot. This is a magical experience in and of itself but it is truly meant and more meaningful for two.

My thoughts are so scattered. I find also that I tire easily. I have taken to naps in the afternoon and I have little desire to leave my room even though I know seeing people and new surroundings is good for me. I feel a bit guilty too because it's like I am here to hike and see stuff and I am just content to sit around doing nothing. I want to get it all in while I can. I want no regrets you know.

Still despite my ennui I'd love to just go somewhere and be with people who aren't families you know. I guess like what I get in the city. You can take the boy out of the city but you can't take the city out of the boy. I could never live here full-time, the solidarity and lack of activity would drive me crazy. No the simple life is one I am content to visit and experience every now and again.

Travel Log: Dulles To Bar Harbor

I stayed up all night last night. By the time I finished packing it was 3:30 am and the taxi was coming at 4 am. So there was no point in going to bed.

The following is my travel log:

4:00 am	—	Taxi arrived and took me to the airport.
4:30 am	—	Arrive at Dulles Airport
4:45 am	—	Called Jay and roused her out of a good night's sleep because I was a dumb ass and didn't write down the flights I was taking. My printer at home conveniently ran out of ink this morning and I forgot to print the info at work. Sigh... Jay is such a sweetie. I had forwarded her the info so she would know when I'm getting back next Saturday.
5:00 am	—	Got to the correct ticket counter (I was standing at the wrong one before), get my tickets, and reluctantly check my suitcase. Am praying it makes it to Bar Harbor OK.
5:15 am	—	Get in line to go through security. We had to take our shoes off and place them in plastic tubs along with my precious laptop. I held my breath and breathed a sigh of relief when I went through the gate without "the boys" setting off the metal detectors. Security gates were one of those things I never took into consideration when I got my nipples pierced.
5:30 am	—	Began the long walk to my gate.
5:35 am	—	Where there is Starbucks there is salvation. They truly are everywhere and the only place open at this ungodly hour of the morning. To paraphrase from Mari Iijima, "Ah! Shiawase wo Café Latte—Ah! Happiness is a Café Latte". I was literally shaking by the time I got the coffee. The adrenaline is running high and I feel as if I could collapse from exhaustion.
5:40 am	—	Commandeered a wall plug and set up my laptop and began this log. Am dreading the 3.5 hour layover at the Newark, NJ airport. Hoping I can get some sleep or some good blogging in.
6:30 am	—	Began the process to board my plane headed to Newark. Shared a flirty smile with the attractive boarding clerk.
6:40 am	—	Have Realized that people with claustrophobia should NOT travel in tiny planes, especially when it's been over ten years and in that time there have been many crashes reported all over the news and terrorist hijackings. This plane is so tiny it's like a futuristic flying coffin. Yeah...
7:00 am	—	We have taken off. I had to keep the shade pulled down until we were mostly done with take off. I had a minor level panic attack that lasted the entirety of the flight. Thank God the flight was only 40 minutes.
7:40 am	—	Began descent. It was bumpy and I got more agitated. Was nauseous most of the flight.
7:50 am	—	Have landed. We are very early so we are sitting on the runway waiting for a terminal to open up.
8:20 am	—	Finally got off the plane and into the Newark Airport. The NJ scenery is just as ugly on the ground as it was from the air. Called Jay and chatted about my anxiety while looking for a place that has an open plug for my laptop.
8:45 am	—	After much searching I have finally found a plug in a coffee shop. I only had to pass the place 3 times before I spotted it. BTW the tourists here are extremely ugly, though there are a few hot men randomly walking about. Some have given me flirty smiles. I am delighted but too exhausted to register much. Have had maybe a broken hour and half of sleep. Why didn't I do a better job a planning for this last minute trip?
9:17 am	—	My stomach is killing me. Not very feeling hungry but wondering if I should try and eat something. Everything here is very greasy and heavy and I am just not inspired by what I see. Am having casual thoughts about smoky treats. This is not a good thing.
9:20 am	—	Despite extreme exhaustion and fatigue I have been fantasizing about some random attractive man approaching me and having a conversation and maybe a quickie in the airport bathroom. Ironically enough the exhaustion is over riding the physical libido but the mental seems to be quite charged. Still thinking about smoky treats. Hmmm this is very bad.
9:21 am	—	JESUS! These tourists are REALLY UGLY!
9:22 am	—	I am really fucking tired and I want to sleep very badly but I am afraid to go to the terminal and do that because it took me forever to get this table with the outlet for the laptop and if I leave and someone else takes it and then I can't sleep I will be very irritable. And yet I am really too mentally gone at this point to coherently write as this stream of consciousness log shows.
9:23 am	—	Am I actually conscious? Because you have to be conscious to have a stream of consciousness yet at the same time not cognizant. Oh, shit which am I? Conscious or cognizant? I know I'm existing at least I think I am. Well I am pretty sure I am. Can't say 100% for certain. Damn this sucks.
9:25 am	—	OMG! Am I going crazy!?! Have I GONE crazy already!?! Must stop this insanity. Ugh...
9:26 am	—	I wonder how [insert name of casual fuck buddy here] is doing....?
9:27 am	—	Did I just write that? Of course I did. Fuck I am so GONE!
9:28 am	—	Shit I wish I was able to carry my nail file with me (airport security regulation) I seriously need to file some uneven nails. They are driving me nuts.
9:29 am	—	FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!! I forgot to pack my backpack for hiking. Shit! Fuck! Hell! Dammit! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
9:30 am	—	Oh Holy Jesus! Hootie and The Blowfish are attempting to make a comeback. They have a new single and it was playing in the airport. What company is stupid enough to give them a record deal! More evidence of the lack of taste, quality, and integrity in the modern music industry. Glad I have my iTunes on my laptop, even if I don't have my Rio Forge portable MP3 player. I have good music. Ohh! ABBA's Dancing Queen just came on.
9:32 am	—	I WANT COCK! (Don't ask because I am certainly not going to tell or provide further details)
9:33 am	—	I want to bang a pilot. Dammit now I just gave you people details...
9:35 am	—	OK I am pretty sure now that I am very hungry, but my tummy still feels bloated and I am afraid to eat anything before I get on this next plane because I don't want to get sick. Even though it will be a proper sized plane I think I will still be nervous.
9:39 am	—	OK am leaving the coffee shop and talking a nap. This is ridiculous I am like a fucking zombie. I am due to arrive in Boston at 12:30 pm. I will eat when I get there. Hmm I need to pee...
10:30 am	—	Just woke up from a much needed nap. I feel better now. Am gonna read some now. Tired...
11:10 am	—	Boarded plane. This one is bigger than the other one. I feel better about it, but am still a bit nervous.
11:17 am	—	Hello, gorgeous! OK a VERY hot steward just winked at me! Too bad he is wearing a ring on his all-important finger (Right ring finger - It's a Gay thing). But still. I feel much calmer now and just a wee bit horny. LOL His name is Christopher (Chris) and he's slim, tall, shaved head, blue eyes, with a great smile. His cologne is nice. It reminds me of CK One: sweet and pungent with a slight citrus tone. OK despite the extreme fatigue I am totally in heat now. LOL
11:18 am	—	Feeling very calm. Am not sleepy now so I think I'll read.
12:30 pm	—	Landed in Boston and proceeded to call D and then try and find my gate.
1:15 pm	—	Hello Cute TSA worker who was checking me out in the line of Dunkin Donuts! We made intense, flirty eye contact and smiled. He seemed a bit shy. Unfortunately he went outside and I had to catch my plane. Oh, well. Am feeling good.
2:10 pm	—	Boarded plane to Bar Harbor. It's TINY. Like 15 seats and has no bathroom. Am feeling nervous again
3:30 pm	—	Landed in beautiful Bar Harbor. The scenery is stunning. Blue skies EVERYWHERE. And TREES! Even the light poles are shorter here. LOL
4:00 pm	—	Arrived at the Harbor Cottage Inn, checked in, and headed down to the Pier One Waterfront Rentals where I am staying. It is gorgeous here, simply gorgeous. The sea is literally 10 feet from my door. In fact the side with the door actually sits on the pier. Am feeling very relaxed.
4:15 pm	—	Taking a shower and then taking a nap.
7:45 pm	—	My nap was good. Still very tired. It's hot in here. Heading out now to get food.
8:45 pm	—	Just got back from the center of town which was literally an intersection with restaurants and 1 tiny convenience store that sells cheap wine. I am using a bike provided by the inn to get around. It has no hand brakes so you have to peddle backwards to stop. Am getting used to it. It was a challenge getting the wine home.
8:50pm	—	Turns out the yummy Lobster place that is next-door closes at 8:00 pm!!! So I ended up eating frozen yogurt and watching TV. Ah, well tomorrow is another day. The theme of this vacation so far is "The best laid plans." Most of my plans haven't worked out the way I planned. Guess this is the universe trying to tell me that I need to let go and just let things happen.
9:00 pm	—	Called the main house to enquire about getting the AC turned on as it is 80 degrees in the cabin. Turns out there is no AC and that I just need to leave the windows open and the fan on which I have been doing. The only thing that has helped cool the place down is leaving the sliding glass door open. I feel quite unsafe, not sure how I'll manage that one when I actually go to sleep. I sleep in the nude so leaving the blinds up is not an option, but it gets hot easily in here. The openness of this place is a little off putting. Like with the bike. I just leave it outside. No chain, no nothing. And nobody seems to bat an eye about it. I am not quite comfy with that. Been living in the wicked big city too long. This vacation will definitely be a new experience...

Screen On The Green '05: The Way We Were

Just got home from the Screen On The Green film festival in DC. Am exhausted. It was held down on the National Mall and started at sunset, which was somewhere between 8:30 pm and 9 pm. The festival runs every Monday from tonight until August 15. Tonight's movie was the Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford classic, The Way We Were. There was no way in Hell I could miss this!

I organized a small viewing party consisting of Jay-Anne, Daphne, Myself, and Big. Unfortunately Daphne ended up having to work late and couldn't come. But Big and Jay made it which was great. I hadn't seen Big in a while so that was nice. He has been going through a rough time of late, so coming out tonight was a nice distraction.

The three of us had dinner before the movie then found a spot on the backside of the crowded on the lawn. We bought blankets to sit on. It was hotter than Hell. The screen was big but really far away and they were having sound problems so you couldn't always hear what was being said.

Before the movie started we got to watch a classic Bugs Bunny cartoon, just like in the old days. People were still streaming in during the cartoon and very beginning of the film. In fact there were two very stupid and annoying preppy guys that showed up a few minutes before the start of the film and proceeded to stand on a clump of ground in the middle of some people deciding if they should sit down or not. Mind you they were about 10 feet away and everyone sitting behind them couldn't see around them. People started whispering in annoyance and trying to delicately signal for them to sit down. This was lost as they weren't paying attention but contemplating the grass. I guess Abercrombe & Fitch doesn't sell brains along with their clothes.

I was getting seriously pissed as the movie was about to start on top of the fact it had been a bad day and it was hotter than Hell out. Finally the inner bitch in me completely snapped and I cupped my hands to my mouth and shouted, "Oi! Clueless wonders in front, SIT DOWN!" That got their attention and they shot down to the ground within seconds. I was quite pleased. Jay and Big were starring at me open mouthed in astonishment as were the people around us. I admit I was a little embarrassed but over all was quite proud of myself for being assertive. Besides it got those dumb-dumbs to sit down and everyone else to shut up.

The movie itself was fabulous. I had a really great time, as did Jay and Big. After it was over we followed the crowds back to the Metro then headed home. I'm sweaty and exhausted. Time for a shower and bed!

Hello, Hangover!

Well it has been a full weekend to say the least. Jay got up this morning at about 9 am horrified and embarrassed. I comforted her and then insisted she take a shower and get prettied up before I took her back to Tash's to get her car. Apparently being a good friend has resulted in me being crowned "an angel."

I took her back to Tash's and from there we went to breakfast. I was pretty exhausted as I didn't get much sleep because I kept being interrupted by a very irritable Merlin who was NOT happy about his daddy commandeering his bed. Breakfast BTW was at Hell's Kitchen, I mean Denny's. It was Tash idea not Jay's and mine. We would have preferred the lower-middle class sophistication of IHOP.

After hanging out there for an hour we all went our separate ways. I wanted to go home but I had a brunch date with John and his best friend Alan and some other friend of theirs from church. It was pleasant but I wasn't too hungry and groggy to fully enjoy it.

It was kind of odd seeing John again in this situation. While I know he told Alan about our decision to just be friends it almost felt like Alan was looking at us with this hope in his eyes that we would reconcile. Romantics never die, they just become cynical. And I admit I was entertaining similar thoughts myself. I love John more than anything, and sitting there across from him it was apparent to me that the rift is unbridgeable. We will never be what we were, only best friends and soul mates. It hurts. I don't know what else to say.

I know that we made the right choice but I can't help but feel a twinge of regret and longing. How do you move on after something like this? This is a man who I was ready to marry and move in with. Now I am left with a big hole in my life that he used to fill so perfectly. We are still friends and I am happy for that, I just wish that it could have worked out. I know no matter what happens and who comes along in our lives I will always love him and he will always love me. He really is my other half and I am his. But the truth is we aren't ready for the other. And in a way I doubt we ever will be. My intuition tells me this is as good as it gets.

After brunch I went home and took a nap then called Kaul. We chatted. He is nice and all but I doubt we will ever hook up. I am may be wrong about that but I doubt it. The intention is there I think the desire mutually weak. Last night was the right place, time, and situation. Now, it just feels like a courtesy. We said we'd call each other and we have fulfilled that promise. There's nothing more to be said.

Mike & Jay's Apex Adventure

It's some time after 4:00 am and I am waiting for the washer to stop so I can dry Jay's clothes. No, that wasn't a typo. It's almost daybreak and I am still up while Jay is passed out in my bed. How did I get into this situation you ask? Well I'm about to tell you. It's an amusing story and hopefully I can get it all out coherently before I collapse from exhaustion.

It started this afternoon. Jay was meeting up for dinner with Tash, a mutual friend of ours from high school. Jay and I only recently made contact again with Tash and her sister Karen. We all basically lost touch after graduation.

Anyway so they were getting together and Jay invited me along. We met at Tash and Karen's place and then headed into Old Town where we had dinner. Tash mentioned a "warm up" party she had been invited to along with Karen being held by some other former acquaintances from high school. Turns out these people were of the Republican WASP variety. As you can imagine they were all disturbed when the lesbo (Jay) and the fag (me) showed up along with Tash. We were glared at and gossiped about. It was amusing.

While Jay chatted with the host (a man who is very tight lipped about his life and has ALWAYS screamed of being Gay yet is very closeted and full of issues - my Gaydar went off immediately. To quote Eve Tokimatsuri from Megazone 23 III, "You can't fool the creator's eyes."). I interjected myself into almost every conversation making witty repartee. The WASPs were ruffled by that, not only was I fabulous and flaming but I was intelligent and could keep up with the best of them. Closet Host Boy was VERY intimidated by me (probably afraid I would out him) yet the other hetero guys didn't seem to mind my presence too much. The women were more threatened by me. Guess they were afraid I'd start recruiting or something. Silly bitches.

We left the warm up party and headed over to the pub Front Page in DC. There we met up with even more former high school WASPs. I'm telling you it was a WASP reunion that quickly spiraled out of control. After about an hour and a half Jay and I were bored and ready to have some real fun. Standing around sipping cocktails and making dull conversation with dull young Republican yuppies is not our scene. So we made our goodbyes and headed over to the Gay club Apex.

Neither one of us had ever been to Apex but we'd heard it was a heavy Lesbian hangout. I'm still not sure if it is or if it was just Lesbian night because a good number of Gay men go there. Either way there were lots of Lesbians and Jay was lit up and ready to get her groove on. The poor dear is having game issues and needs to get some confidence back after her break up 6 months ago.

It was pretty crowded and after we got some drinks we proceeded to try and mingle and dance. Problem is Jay was very nervous and not drunk enough yet to totally venture out on her own. So she clung to me while dancing, so much so in fact that the handful of cute single Gay boys there were getting confused or turned off. This was unacceptable. Also the Lesbians were confused and didn't do much other than eye Jay up occasionally, which was also bad as the purpose of going there was for her to practice flirting and hooking up.

So I did what any good friend would do: I ditched her ass! I just slithered into the crowd and made my way to the balcony where I kept an eye on her. I figured she'd sink or swim. If she sank I would come to her aid, if she swam I would leave her to enjoy the experience. I wasn't gone long before she found a mildly homely mullet girl to dance with. It wasn't great but you have to start somewhere and this showed she was OK. That being squared away I turned my attentions to hunting for a man.

I had spotted a cute guy earlier but he kept migrating all over the place and I was sure he had left by the time I separated from Jay. Lucky for me he hadn't and I found him near the back. It was time to go to work. I have never really successfully seduced a man in a club before. I rely on internet dating for hook ups and such. What can I say? I can be very shy sometimes. Besides you never meet good guys in these places so what's the point. With the net you get more of what you really want. At least that's been my experience.

Anyway I finally tracked this cutie down. He was about 6ft, Latin, with a goatee, glasses and a little chubby. He was ADORABLE! I see him sitting alone in a corner on a love seat. Talking a moment to focus I slipped into full blown sex mode, sporting a seductive Sharon Stone-esque walk straight out of Basic Instinct. I glided over to a love seat diagonal to him and slowly and sensually lit up a cigarette, then sat down and crossed my legs. I made intense eye contact with him, which he responded to with a nod of his head.

All systems were go! Only problem was I wasn't sure how I was going to strike up a conversation with him. He couldn't hear me from where I was and I had nothing subtle to do that would get me over there. Talk about poor planning.

The fates were smiling on me though because a woman sat down next to me, and her girlfriend stood in front of her. I took the opportunity to offer her my seat and then I crossed over and sat next to the guy and said, "hello." This was a bold move and I was very nervous but careful not to let it show. He said hello and introduced himself as Kaul. We started chatting. Seems he had come there with a female friend of his who was going through the same situation Jay was. Within five minutes of conversation I was straddling his lap and we were making out with the intensity of a mid-summer hurricane. What a MOUTH! He sucked on my tongue so hard I swear he was going to tear it out of my throat!!! I was both aroused and in a little pain.

We carried on like that, shifting from love seats to dance floor to bar, to a different set of love seats. BTW he speaks seven languages fluently (English, Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese, Chinese, and Arabic). Let me tell you he left three of them on the side of my neck! I sure hope that clears up by Monday morning.

Before we parted ways we exchanged numbers. After that I found Jay who was seriously plastered and took her outside, as we had to catch the train back. She was not in a good way. She was so drunk she was weaving everywhere, was half disoriented and become sick in some ornamental shrubs. I got her a hot bagel and some water at a late night café and then took her to the train.

She slept most of the way home and I knew there was no way I could take her back to her parents place in that condition. So I took her home with me and put her in my bed. I stripped the majority of her clothes off of her and threw them in the wash. She fought me, but I mostly succeeded and gave her one of my old white oxford shirts from high school to sleep in. I figured it was the most appropriate thing considering our earlier encounter.

Which brings me to right now, which is about 5 am. The clothes have stopped and I need to throw them into the dryer and get some rest. Merlin is very confused by her presence here and he's not going to like me sleeping on the couch (which is his bed practically). Tomorrow will be very interesting.

Sounds of Soullessness

So I took some time at lunch today to listen on Yahoo! Music to some of the new songs that have come out recently and are topping the charts. Wow. The music industry really has gone to shit. None of this mainstream crap is good at all. It's more manufactured and over-processed than Madonna's coif. There is no style or originality to today's music let alone talent. Is it any wonder more people are turning to indie artists?

Of the new top songs and their respective videos that have come out I have selected five and have written a commentary for each. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Mariah Carey — We Belong Together

There is a reason people have dubbed Mariah Carey, Mariah Scarey. Over the years she has become not only emotionally unstable but severely musically challenged not to mention engulfed by her fried, head-consuming weave. I guess she and Beyonce Knowles are competing over who will be the next young artist to succeed Diana Ross as the queen of monster weaves. Currently they are tied but Mariah is mentally ahead in the race as she speeds towards greater heights of career insanity with her crazed divadom.

Poor Mariah, she used to be so unique and had such a pretty voice. And her high-pitched vocal gymnastics were impressive though they did grow old after a while. These days she sounds exactly like every other R&B and Soul singer on the market. If it wasn't for watching the video I would have no idea who was actually singing the song.

Mariah has become yet another canned act. This is evident in her new single, We Belong Together. While mildly catchy melodically, Mariah's singing is flat and emotionless. She spends more time concentrating on making her vocals smooth and lovely. The result is in-key singing that has absolutely no emotion to it whatsoever. When it comes time for the parts that are really emotionally charged she does this whole affected but controlled yell-thing with her voice that results in the lyrics being mushed together.

The video itself is another manufactured tragedy. Apparently when "Mimi" was emancipated she had to flee so fast that she didn't have time to grab her pants, let alone a bottom of any kind for that matter. Mariah spends the entire video in heals and a slip, sometimes a pull over sweater, singing heartbrokenly about how she and her man belong together. Well put some pants on woman and maybe you can actually go out in public and see him...

When Mariah finally does decide to put on something more substantial she opts for a ginormous white wedding dress with a train so long it makes Princess Diana's wedding train look like a table cloth. The dress itself is so huge southern brides with Texas big hair obsessions would be terrified of its ability to actually swallow Mariah's dead mane whole. There is so much material in and under the skirt that she can barely walk let alone run down the steps of the fairytale castle where the wedding takes place.

I don't understand the appeal of Mariah's new hit. It's completely uninteresting and isn't unique sounding. Yet people are eating it up like ice cream on a hot summer day. What the fuck? Am I the only one who sees that this song is nothing more than a total fluff piece?

Kelly Clarkson — Behind These Hazel Eyes

Kelly Clarkson is a very talented vocalist, the problem is that she is controlled by a big name record label that is more concerned with making money and hollow songs rather than quality works. The woman has a voice and stage presence that can sell records people, why don't you stop holding the leash so tight and actually let her make music that is actually good!?!

Her latest single, Behind These Hazel Eyes, is yet another emotionally orchestrated Top 40 Delight that demonstrates once again how sad it is when a true talent is controlled by a record label. The song itself is good but Kelly's singing suffers from a lack of genuine emotion and sincerity, which can be directly linked to her lack of experience both artistically and personally. You don't get the sense that she is truly feeling the emotions and meaning of the songs that she is singing. With less stylized coaching and more time she could be a truly knockout talent. Unfortunately American Idol and the record company's desires to have a quick buck will drive her already faltering career into the ground. Truly sad.

As for the music video, runaway brides and broken marriages are apparently in vogue this season as both Kelly Clarkson and Mariah Carey both used this motif in their latest vids. For Mariah it's leaving some stable looking dude at the altar for a young kid in a tux and high-tops. Yeah that's a good move. For Kelly it's leaving a cheating fiancé at the altar and running through a graveyard and then diving face first into the mud and trashing about. Guess the female pro wrestler couldn't make the shoot so Kelly had to hold her own.

Shakira — La Tortura

Does anyone remember the last really huge Brazilian female vocal act to take the US by storm and then fizzle out faster then grease flames on an open burner? No? Let me remind you then: Carmen Miranda. Yes, Carmen Miranda, the ruffle skirted, fruit basket hat wearing samba soultress from the 1940's and 50's who came to America with a dream to achieve greatness. Instead she was sold as the top sex act of the day, made canned Americanized salsa songs and overnight became hated in her own country and tossed aside by the US when they got bored with her. She also tragically died a few years after her career crash, but I digress...

Shakira hit the scene several years ago and shook her tits and ass into the hearts of horny wanker boys everywhere. Armed with a Spanish-English dictionary she penned an album of unoriginal bilingual dance hits and gained instant cult popularity. Think Jewel but Latina, with a tight body poured into skin tight leather jeans and lots of open leg, cooch exposing moves a-la-a Lil' Kim. After her big debut she went silent on the music scene and those of us with good taste hoped her flash in the pan career was over.

Looks like we hoped to soon. Shakira is back, and this time she's armed with a two album project. The first album is entitled Fijacion Oral Vol. 1 and is all in Spanish while the second is entitled Oral Fixation Vol. 2 and is all in English. Again the overt sex theme is apparent from the beginning, which doesn't really bother me, except that with Shakira her sex image somehow comes off being dirty like a back alley hooker or Madonna circa Erotica. Take your pick. It's not sexy but trashy. Very trashy.

So anyway, I listened to Shakira's new single La Tortura and watched the video. For those of you who don't speak Spanish, "La Tortura" mean "The Torture" which is exactly what listening to Shakira's music is: torture. She doesn't really sing so much as speak the words along with the melody. Multiple "aiy's" and guttural grunts make up the staple of her musical compositions, replacing the vernacular one would expect from a bilingual singer songwriter. The song itself isn't even good. It's just sub-par, manufactured Latin rythms married with pounding bass and Shakira's overtly husky (she sounds like she has bronchitis) vocals.

To make things more interesting she has made the song a duet with some really hot Latin singer by the name of Alejandro Sanz. He's about the most interesting thing to watch in the video, though his player antics and multiple simulated rapes of Shakira are extremely disturbing.

Which brings me to the actual "content" of the video. Shakira's "role" in the video is basically to get rapped and hump anything with and without a pulse while showing us that she can spread her legs really far apart. Apparently pumping one's breasts and abdominal muscles to the beat like Tom Cruise pumping his fists on Oprah's couch while covered in motor oil(!?!) are supposed to make up for the bad cinematography and lack of followable, let along disinteresting content of the music video. I could put on a porn movie and see less solo furniture humping and more believable fabricated sex. Shakira getting dry humped by Alejandro against the counter while slicing vegetables is real classy. I'm sure her legion of hard-up wanker boy fans are thanking her at this very moment for those visual images. Just think, somewhere out in cyber space some guy has just shorted out his keyboard watching this video. You know I honestly I kept waiting for her to slice her hand off or stab the guy and actually bring some element of surprise to the video. Guess I hoped for too much because it never happened.

I also love the message conveyed by the video itself. Apparently we need more justification for voyeurism, breaking and entering, and rape. Yeah. You've come along way in helping to empower women Shakira. In case you hadn't noticed it is illegal, even in Brazil, to rape someone. Though when you are a green card crazed nymphomaniac I guess that doesn't really matter.

Shakira's act has always been, and will continue to be cheap and flashy with a shelf life of your average orgasm. You only have to look at her to see that she is $2 away from being a red light district special. She'll more than likely go the way of Carmen Miranda. Hmmm could Shakira be just a tutti-frutti hat and a flamenco skirt away from making history all over again? Hopefully Shakira's "Oral Fixation" or "Fijation Oral" will stay with her through the next stage of her career: as a McDonald's drive thru cashier. Aiy-aiy-aiy would you like a some fries with that?

Jessica Simpson — These Boots Where Made For Walkin'

Time and again I ask myself how long Jessica Simpson's last second of fame can last? You know when her career started to cool down at the end of the 90's along with The Backstreet Boys I had hoped we would be released from the clutches of yet another untalented, dumb blonde, hack. Though stupid me I know for a fact that when one blonde goes brunette three more brunettes jump in the bottle to take her place!

Let's be real people, the girl is about as dumb as an entire ward of post-lobotomy patients. On top of which the bitch can't sing! The only reason she has risen to fame is because she is some horny straight man's idea of sexy. Her most recent single, These Boots Were Made For Walkin' demonstrates this perfectly.

The song is a "remake" (try total desiccation) of Nancy Sinatra's 1960's pop classic. Jessica's version is a disaster as horrific as the sinking of the Titanic. In a matter of seconds she successfully proves without a shadow of a doubt that she is a little bit country and a whole lot white trash, and reaffirms what we already knew: she CAN'T sing! Is it any wonder that people in other countries are willingly strapping bombs to themselves and detonating them? I have a theory their attempted take down of America is solely directed at the virally bad pop entertainment that has become our mainstream...

Almost all of the lyrics have been rewritten for no apparent reason, though you'd hardly know it since Jessica mushes all the words together to the point of near inaudibility in her attempt to sound trailor trash sexy. Not helping matters is the noise from the honky-tonk brawl going on in the background. You can barely make her voice out at all, though this is really a blessing from the sound engineers who are apparently trying to spare the masses by drowning out her twangy, sticky-sweat vocals. The addition of Willie Nelson on guitar and backing vocals is enough to drive listeners to the razor blades they keep in their bathrooms so that they may be put out of their misery.

As for the video it is completely floated and based around Jessica's Daisy Dukes. You can't even see her red boots for 90% of it. As the country freak show continues soon all of the women in the video are sporting denim hot pants, and given the fact they are all in a very dirty and nasty honky-tonk bar I hate to think what that set must have smelled like after their collective vaginal infections (produced by the skin tight denim panties—I mean "shorts") flared up. And just to add an extra level of pukability, Jessica gives Willie a big ol' kiss on the mouth!

The video and song are so painful to watch and listen to that I had to turn it off halfway through. I had seen more than enough to finish casting judgment. The original song was not musically brilliant but Jesus Christ it was 100% better then this shitty, half-baked, country calamity. I swear, if this doesn't kill what remains of Jessica Simpson's faux-career nothing will!

Black Eyed Peas — Don't Phunk With My Heart

And last but not least Black Eyed Peas, more evidence that a stupid band name conotates stupid music. The "dance" music they attempt to create is so completely mindless not even Britney Spears would try to cover it. And yet despite the obvious, the public seem to be eating them up (no pun intended) anyway.

Their latest single, Don't Phunk With My Heart, showcases the very best (try very worst), of their faux-funk sounds. Not only is this song and its composition un-enjoyable, but it is also unoriginal and down right annoying. You can't dance to it, despite it being a "dance" song, and the endless litany of dialogue makes you feel like you are listening to poorly dubbed Mexican talk radio.

The music video is bizarre, and set up like Love Connection on crack. The female singer (Sorry I don't know any of their names because their website has ZERO info about them but tons of advertisements for contest and merchandise...) basically spends the whole video laying on a couch rubbing her legs together a-la Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct and sporting hideous Heidi of the Mountain braids which are in desperate need of a cut and cream rinse. The primary male singer is dressed like the typical gansta rapper wannabe playa and attempts to woo her with such gems as , "I always want you with me, I'll play Bobby and you'll play Whitney." Yeah, that's a turn on, because those two are such a stable, healthy couple, minus the drugs and domestic assaults that is.

Adding insult to injury, or in this case bad to worse, is the main lyric of the song, "No, no, no, no, don't phunk with my heart" which is delivered in the most unbelievably lame way. The chick doesn't even make an effort to put any emotion into it on top of which it sounds like she is sporting a faux-Latina accent when she delivers it, though it's hard to tell. The song by itself is just plain awful and coupled with the video is worse. This is another one I turned off half way through. It was just too painful.

With any luck someone will realize soon that the Black Eyed Peas have long since hit their expire date and will be purging them from the shelf shortly. Perhaps the Jolly Green Giant will do the honors personally. Until then, cover your ears whenever their crap comes on the radio or is spun in the clubs.

BONUS SONG! Destiny's Child — Cater 2 U

This one's a quickie and quite frankly an easy one. After all anything with Beyonce Knowles in it is an easy target. Over all Destiny's Child is a hit or a miss with me. Some of their stuff is good and some of it isn't. Their final single Cater 2 U is beyond bad. In fact it pisses me off, not just because it's a bad song, but because it's so ANTI-feminist it sets the movement back to the 50's. I swear, this song is worse for women's lib than Shakira's entire catalogue of clothing and music videos combined.

The lyrics basically go on about how they want to worship their man like a God and give him manicures, prepare and serve his meals, wash his clothes, draw his bath, help him dress, and serve him like slaves all for the sake of keeping him happy. I shit you not!

Destiny's Child should be ashamed of themselves for even agreeing to sing such despicable lyrics. Do they not realize that as strong, independent, African-American women they have a social obligation to be a positive example to all of their female fans, especially the young impressionable ones? Gloria Steinem should scalp all three of them and burn their weaves (instead of a bras) at her next women's lib rally!

Is this really it? Is this what we have come down to as a society musically? Soulless, over-sexed, unoriginal, sexist garbage?! Urgh! I don't know why I let myself get so upset over this. I know better than to turn on mainstream music. I know from experience it is all trash. Once again, this is why I listen to independents and not so famous mainstream artists who actually CARE about what they put out there. I strongly encourage all of you to do the same.

New American Past Time

So today is the 4^th of July. I am not one who gets really worked up over holidays, particularly national ones. For me these celebrations have become overshadowed by consumerism and the desire to get "free time off work." As a society we have lost touch with the true meanings of historical traditions and instead focus on the immediate gratification of ourselves and the picture that we see in front of us. Though in defense of this ambivalent worldview, it is a little hard to keep the sentiments and emotions genuinely fresh after 200+ years of remembrance.

No, holidays like this one are merely short-lived breaks from the stress of our everyday lives. Though more often then not we use the "free" time to try and make headway on projects and work that we have not been able to focus on due to the demands of other project and work.

Kind of a vicious cycle when you think about it. We work so that we can play and when we have the luxury of play we choose to work instead. Guess that's the way of the world. Ah, to be young, innocent, and naïve again. Back then the world was a simpler place. Life wasn't so tough and the realities of impending adulthood were farther away than the stars.

Instead of chilling out and just enjoying life, I spent my holiday dealing with the emotional turmoil that comes with ending any relationship, even amicable ones. And as soon as that pressure was dealt with and managed I had to focus once more on my freelance work. Because holiday or no, I have deadlines I have to meet. Then there was the surprise of yesterday's 4^th of July party hosted by Mari and Ian. I had a good time but wasn't expecting it so I lost out on work and alone time. Then of course this morning and early afternoon I had to march in the final parade of the season. It has been one Hell of a weekend, but at least that obligation is at last over. My life can return to some degree of normalcy.

I guess the point I am trying to make through all of these ramblings is that we are pressured to bust our asses constantly for the sake of earning relaxation time that is then spent working. It used to be that the American past time was baseball or cooking out. Now it is organizing the family, doing side jobs to make ends meet, and berating ourselves for sleeping an extra hour when we have a 14 hour work day ahead of us. As much as I enjoy being a healthy, functioning adult, there are times it really sucks dirty ass. This holiday has reminded me of the less-than-stellar side of growing older and more responsible. So with that in mind I think I am going to drag my tired ass back to bed and not think about it!

A Good Time To Say Goodbye

Last night John and I mutually ended our relationship on friendly terms. We have been dating for about a year and in that time have both grown as individuals. We have become better as a result of having the other in our lives. But that alone was not enough to sustain a romance. We love each other so completely that words cannot describe the feeling. But right now neither one of us is at a place in our lives to be in a relationship with the other. For so long we have been trying to force ourselves into fitting in to a situation that wasn't right.

There is a tremendous sense of relieve we both feel having made this decision. having made this decision together. One of the predominant fears that we have had has been losing the other. And even though we are no longer lovers we are still the same close friends and soul mates that we always where. We still love, appreciate, and complete each other. We may have lived different lives but we are one and the same, like twins separated at birth. He means the world to me and I know I mean the world to him.

There is a very wise old saying that goes something like this: "If you truly love something, sometimes you have to let it go in order to preserve your love." Until last night I never understood what that meant. How could you let go of something if you love it? And how can letting go of it save your love? It's hard to explain, you really have to go through it to understand completely.

For me understanding this very valuable lesson happened over a long period of time. Little things built up until one day I had a huge epiphany that scared the shit out of me. I literally woke up one morning and thought "You don't want to be in this relationship anymore." The power of those words was enough to send me into a tailspin. I started doubting everything about my love and relationship with John and about myself as an individual. I couldn't bear the thought that something so right could have been based on false emotion.

Denial is a very powerful mental force. In the end I finally understood and accepted what I had known all along but refused to accept. It is easy to blind ourselves to the things that hurt the most. When you find someone you love and they embody everything you are looking for in a mate and in a relationship it is shattering when something happens to shed an imperfect light upon them and the relationship. For me I wanted to believe that everything was perfect because the love I had found was everything I had ever wanted.

It wasn't just me. John had done it too. True to ourselves we have always been on the same page, even when we didn't tell the other what we were looking at or the pain we where feeling. In the end, it all worked out well. We are better people and our relationship is stronger now than before. The only difference is that we aren't lovers.

I feel good about all of this. For the first time in my life I feel like myself again. I am ready to face the world truly healed from some of the worst pain from my past. I am secure with myself in a way I never have been before and I am happy and content with being by myself for a while. I no longer need a relationship in order to survive. I am fine being single. In fact I don't plan on looking for another relationship any time soon. No, for the time being I am going to enjoy life and men for what they are and the pleasures they both can offer me. Today is the beginning of a new day and the horizon before me is limitless.

Praise For Pastis

I was shocked today to see that Stephan Pastis actually named the Family Circus family by name in his Pearls Before Swine strip today. I didn't think you could do that without getting in trouble.

I did a Google search on Family Circus and Stephan Pastis to see if I could find any news clips about it. I figured crazy ass Bill Keane would go ballistic and seek legal action once he discovered that Pastis had called out the Family Circus family for being the clueless wonders that they are. Alas my search came up empty.

However I did find some lovely praise of Mr. Pastis's recent parody strips. I think this blog entry from notes from the front lines expresses very well how I feel about this weeks Pearls strips and the Family Circus:

Tuesday, 28 June 2005

Stephan Pastis Is Still a Comic Genius
Yes! Yesterday's takedown of "Family Circus" wasn't a one-shot deal for "Pearls Before Swine"! There's more today! Here's hoping this series runs the rest of the summer. Just think, Pastis hasn't even gotten around to flogging those sidesplitting "Family Circus" cartoons where the meandering dotted line follows Billy around the neighborhood, or the ones with the kids' grandparents in heaven, or the ones with those laff-riot ghosts "Not Me" and "Ida Know." Oh, I'm shaking with laughter just typing this. I know making fun of "Family Circus" is kind of like the crack cocaine for humorists -- it's cheap and easy -- but keep it coming anyway, Stephen; I'm begging you. Unless you want to turn your attention to, say, "Hi and Lois" or "Mary Worth."

I too hope Stephea Pastis continues to do these parodies. They are brilliant and refreshing compared to the content of other strips on the comics page of the paper. Additionally I also have found a couple of funny quotes about the Family Circus which are quite amusing and oh-so true. Enjoy!

"The clean cartoon lines are a semblance of order waiting to be violated by intimations of the fearfully glimpsed...."

From a dateless entry on Destiny Land

 

The only thing that "The Family Circus" is good for is as fodder for parody.

September 23, 1999 from Looka!

Ranted at 07:58 PM | Permalink | Rant Back!! (0)

Family Christian Cult Circus

I love the comic strip Pearls Before Swine! But this is no secret. Stephan Pastis (the artist and author) is a bloody genius! His topic this week is Rat's theory that Osama Bin Laden is hiding out as an exchange student with a clueless American family.

I'm sure you're wondering the same thing Goat wondered, "What American family could be so out of touch?" The answer is simple, that clueless, 50's-style, Christian cult family from the comic strip Family Circus. The past two day's Pearls strips have cracked me up. Mr. Pastis has pegged that antiquated, pathetic, anachronism of a "family" perfectly! Totally clueless!

I have been laughing about it all day. God I Love Pearls. That strip always cheers me up. I need to buy myself a Rat t-shirt. I found one online of Rat sitting at his computer smoking and cigarette and writing. The caption reads, "Angry Bob Was ANGRY!" Hahahahaha I love Rat. I totally relate to his bitchy, meanness.

Dim Bulbs of the Future

I am really terrified now by the prospect of today's youth. Daphne and I had lunch today in Flake Circle at Subway. The place was crowded as some young business people's seminar that was being held in the area somewhere at let out. We felt like the oldest people in the place as these kids were YOUNG and all wide eyed and innocent in their oversized suits and ill-conceived attempts at grown up fashion. I am guessing these kids were in like their first or second year of college.

So D and I are eating and these kids are being all noisy. This Subway is tiny mind you and has one bathroom (which we were sitting next to). The bathroom is kept lock for security reasons and you have to get a key up front. There is a big ass sign on the door that states this very clearly in large print.

Well a line of kids forms at the door. The guy at the head of the line tries to open the door and finds that it is locked. He stands there and continues to giggle the handle before turning around and shrugging to the kid behind him. The second guy then tries the door followed by a girl. Finally they turn and look at D and I and ask us, "Do you know what's wrong with the bathroom door?" D and I looked at each other and then I responded, "The bathroom is locked, see the sign? You have to get a key up front." They thank us and act as if this is like the most amazing concept ever. D and I just shook our heads and went back to our conversation.

The first guy comes back and lets himself into the bathroom and shuts the door. Then he pops the door open again and then shuts it. He does this about five times before asking us how to lock the door. I said to him, "The door automatically locks when it shuts, hence why you need the key to open it from the outside." His face lit up and he's like, "Oh!" I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I wondered, could he really be that clueless?

A few minutes after he left the restroom one of the young women from this conference group comes up with the door key in hand. She stops in front of the door and just stands there looking pensive. She hesitantly turns to D and I and asks, "Is there anyone in there?" I really couldn't believe what I was hearing. There is one bathroom and one key. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure this one out. Plus if she was really that unsure she could just knock on the door and find out. I just looked at her and calmly said, "Well there's only one bathroom and one key, so if you have the key then it's empty." Again another bright eyed look as she thanked me.

Honestly, if these kids really are the future business moguls of America then I'm terrified. Books smarts are great but if you haven't even enough common sense to navigate a public restroom then you're in serious trouble. Guess the economy really is going to Hell in a hand basket. *Sigh*

Whole Lotta Questions

I saw this on Ryan's blog and couldn't resist. It's basically a profile questionnaire consisting of a bunch of seemingly random but fun questions. So I filled it out (with a few minor edits and additions of my own). Enjoy!

1. First Name?
   Mike
2. Were you named after anyone?
   Yes, but I am not saying who. I come from a Catholic background originally, you figure it out.
3. Do you wish on stars?
   Generally, no. But if I see a shooting star yes. What can I say I'm a romantic at heart.
4. When did you last cry?
   Ooh, that would have been about 3 weeks ago. I finished re-watching the Macross TV Series. That last episode always makes me cry!
5. Do you like your handwriting?
   Not really. That also goes for my signature. I wish they were more artistic looking rather than just being sloppy and illegible.
6. What is your favorite lunch meat?
   Turkey.
7. What is your most embarrassing CD?
   Hmmm good question. I'm really not very ashamed of what I listen to. Let me think... Ah, yes there is that US Sailor Moon Soundtrack CD, "Luna Rock." I don't listen to it but keep it around for sentimental Otaku reasons. Those can't be justified!
8. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you?
   Absolutely! I may be a raving bitch but I am a good person who is very caring.
9. Do you have a journal?
   Not in the traditional sense. I used to keep a proper diary but pretty much everything get's put here, though when I do write non-published entries from time to time which I keep saved on disk.
10. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
    What the Hell do you think?
11. What are your nicknames?
    I have several. My favorite is so far is Yoda Master Manwhore. It's funny.
12. Would you bungee jump?
    Oh, Hell no! Mama didn't raise no fool.
13. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
    Yes.
14. Do you think that you are strong?
    Physically, not so much. Emotionally, yes. I have gone through a lot of shit and come out still alive. That counts for something.
15. What is your favorite ice cream flavor?
    Chocolate and Vanilla mixed.
16. Shoe Size?
    US size 11. And yes I have big hands too. You do the math...
17. Red or pink?
    Red.
18. What is your least favorite thing about yourself?
    My fluctuating weight and body shape.
19. Who do you miss most?
    I don't miss any specific person more than another. There are many people I miss.
20. Do you want everyone you send this to, to send it back?
    Well seeing as how I stole this from Ryan's blog that question really isn't applicable. I'd be interested in other people's answers though.
21. What color pants and shoes are you wearing?
    Black on black, baby!
22. What are you listening to right now?
    Stevie Nick's album "Trouble In Shangri-La"
23. Last thing you ate.
    Deep dish veggie pizza (with Jay).
24. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
    Crimson, or as D would put it, "Whore Red."
25. What is the weather like right now?
    Mild.
26. Last person you talked to on the phone?
    Jay
27. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
    Whether or not their outfit is tasteful and coordinated or is just an atrocity constructed from every piece of couture that is currently in vogue.
28. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
    Again I stole this from ryan's blog, but yes I like him. he is a nice guy.
29. Favorite Drink?
    Softdrink: Pepsi. Alcoholic: Strawberry daquiri.
30. Favorite Sport?
    I only like bedroom sports.
31. Hair Color?
    Brown.
32. Eye Color?
    Blue-green.
33. Do you wear contacts?
    Nope but most of my friends do.
34. Favorite Food?
    Pizza.
35. Last Movie You Watched?
    The Hitchiker's Guide To The Galaxy.
36. Favorite Day Of The Year?
    I don't really have one. It used to be Christmas though.
37. Scary Movies Or Happy Endings?
    I don't like scary movies so happy endings.
38. Summer Or Winter?
    Between the two, Summer. I prefer Spring and Fall though.
39. Hugs OR Kisses?
    I like both, but if I had to choose hugs.
40. What Is Your Favorite Dessert?
    Strawberry Cheesecake.
41. What is your favorite pair of shoes?
    That would be my kicky black ankle boots with side zipper and faux belt straps.
42. What is the most trouble you've ever been in?
    I really don't remember, besides that is relative to where you are in life. I've never killed anyone or committed any real crimes.
43. What should you have gotten in trouble for but didn't?
    Again subjective. I haven't gotten away with any "crime" that i feel should be prosecutable.
44. How do you feel about laundry?
    It piles up too quickly but smeels nice once it's been washed. I don't mind washing it, it's the folding that bothers me.
45. What Books Are You Reading?
    I'm not reading any currently.
46. What's on the wall to your right?
    Nothing but stone.
47. What was the last thing you watched on TV?
    The news.
48. Favorite Smells?
    Wet earth. flowers like lillies and gardenias. Summer rain on hot asphalt.
49. Favorite Sounds?
    Rain falling on the roof and against the windows. guitars, pianos, saxaphones, and drums.
50. Rolling Stones or Beatles?
    Beatles. They knew when to break up and not drag out a dead carear.
51. What's the furthest you've been from home?
    Approximately 850 miles.
52. Do you have a special talent?
    I have many special talents.
53. Do you have a dishwasher?
    Yes and I love it.
54. Have you ever had sex?
    Well I didn't acquire the nickname 'Manwhore' by accident did I?
55. What's your favorite board game?
    Monopoly, especially when I play with Miriam. She is ruthless at that game like I am.
56. What's the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning?
    How much longer can I sleep before I'm late?
57. Do you screen your cell phone calls?
    Sometimes depends on my mood and the circumstance.
58. How do you feel about marriage?
    It is a beautiful concept that has been blown completely out of proportion by society. I believe all people regardless of their gender and sexual orientation should be allowed to marry. Marriage is meant to be the highest acknowledgement of commitment, period.
59. What is most important in life?
    Love.
60. Do you like to drive fast?
    Yes but I am trying to be better about not doing it.
61. Storms?
    What about them? I like them. Is that the question?
62. What was your first car?
    My Cherrypopper of course! A gorgeous 2004 berry red Saturn L600.
63. Do you eat the stems of broccoli?
    Yes, they are yummy.
64. If you could have any job...?
    Making phat-ass cash via all of my artistic pursuits (drawing, writing, web, music, etc.)
65. Is the glass half empty or half full?
    The glass isn't completely full period which is not good cause my buzz is wearing off!
66. Do you type with your fingers in the right keys?
    No. I never could master home position. So just stuck with visual touch typing. I'm sure I can smoke the average typists ass too. I average about 65 or more words a minute, so there!
67. What movie do you hate?
    Jesus, just about every one that comes out of Hollywood these days. there are just too many to name.
68. What's under your bed?
    Don't ask, I don't. It's dusty and messy and not good for my Fung Shui but I have no other place for the crap.
69. What's your biggest "irrational fear"?
    No fear is irrational if you ask me, there is always some rational basis for it.
70. If you were a Smurf, which would you be?
    Smurfette. Not only was she the only "normal" one but she was also getting action from ever straight male smirf in that village. Talk about working it!
71. Worst roommate experience?
    I have never had a roommate thank God. I despise living with other people, I need my own personal space.
72. Worst line you ever heard?
    "How could you do this to me if you loved me!?!"
73. What's the funniest rejection you've ever served or received?
    "There's a sewer cover over their. Go slither back from wence you came."
74. Who's your coolest relative?
    My brother I guess, I'm not a big "family" person.
75. Do you have any pets?
    Yes, a highly neurotic sheep dog named Merlin. I love him though.
76. What do you think about abortion?
    Nothing wrong with it so long as you excercise the choice responsibly.
77. What's your favorite wattage of lightbulb?
    100. I like really bright light.
78. How do you feel about racial slurs?
    They aren't nice but they are a reality that will never disapear completely no matter how much people try.
79. Are candles cool?
    Yes, very. I liked scented candles a lot.
80. Do you like your mom and dad?
    I love my mother even though she drives me crazy at times. My father is nothing more than a sperm donor as far as I'm concerned. The man is an honest-to-God sociopath.
81. Have you ever smoked a cigarette?
    Yeah, I took up smoking for about a month then quit. Haven't touched the cancer sticks since.
82. How do you take your coffee?
    With lots of cream and sugar. Taupe is the best flavor.
83. AOL Instant Messenger: overrated or underrated?
    So in need of a retirement home. I fail to see how such an obsolete and limited messenger program is able to survive compaired to Yahoo! and MSN Messenger.
84. How do you feel?
    Tired.
85. What element or natural force is a constant in your life?
    The rain.

A Death In The Extended Family

I woke up to some rather unpleasant news this morning. John was on his way to church and he woke me up long enough to give me a kiss and let me know he'd be back in a few hours, and also that a man we had dinner with at a social event was dead. Yes, dead. The gentleman in question was a friend of John's best friend. Last Christmas John's best friend had his annual Christmas Day dinner party. The recently deceased gentleman, Rick, was one of the guests. I had never met the man before but John had at a similar function. As it turned out I ended up sitting next to Rick and having an enjoyable conversation with him. He seemed nice enough if not a bit angry and surly but not in such a way that was offsetting.

That was the first and last time I met him and just yesterday his name came up in conversation between John and I. We were discussing another guest at that party and I had confused Rick with this other person. What a shock to be told that he was dead this morning.

I'm not sure why John felt compelled to wake me up and tell me this distressing news first thing in the morning (especially while on his way out the door). He basically brought it up because his best friend called him that morning to see if he was still alive and alright. When John asked him why he would call asking such a bizarre question, his friend informed him that Rick (who was in his early/mid fifties) was found dead in his apartment last Thursday. Apparently he had been there three weeks before anyone noticed he was missing.

It's bad enough to think that 6 months ago I was drinking wine and having witty conversation with someone at a party and that now they are dead. But the fact he was not found for three weeks is too terrible to contemplate. Rick wasn't socially isolated but he was self employed. You'd think though that SOMEBODY would have noticed him missing sooner than this. Guess it just goes to show you how wrapped up people can become in their own lives that they stop paying attention to everyone and everything else around them.

We don't know the details as to how Rick died, hopefully it was natural causes, but still… It makes me wonder, did he suffer? Was he aware of how alone he was in his final moments? And on top of it to not be missed for such a long period of time. Does anyone feel bad about that? Is he watching from the great beyond and silently grieving the lack of concern or interest by everyone until it was too late for his well being and whereabouts? It makes me profoundly sad to think about it and very grateful that I am surrounded by so many people and so much love in my own life that if I were to go missing for more than two days somebody would notice and start asking questions.

Maybe I feel too much or put too much melancholy emotion into every situation that can be viewed as tragic. Am I perhaps making more out of this than there is? I don't know. All I know is how I feel, and how shaken I am by this. I didn't even know this man other than that one encounter last Christmas and yet I feel like a link in a long chain of social disconnection. You can't guarantee that people won't die alone but there is at least something that can be done about making sure they are at least missed. Perhaps I am thinking too much about this. I don't know. I can't help thinking that wether we like it or not we are all connected and in that way are one big extended family.

Stranger At My Door

It's funny how people come in and out of our lives over the years. You get to know a person intimately, and your friendship becomes close, then for one reason or another things change and one or both of you go your separate ways. I have had many friendships over the years that have gone this route. And while some friends have come back into my life, and those friendships have become stronger, there are many that have not. Once again I find myself faced with the reappearance of an old friend.

This afternoon I received an e-mail from a friend of mine whom I had met in high school, and had a strong friendship with up until about three years ago. At that point in time we were both going through some major life changes. It was literally one of those situations where one day we were friends and the next day we were estranged.

The last time I spoke with her was on a Saturday, I believe around this time of year. We had made plans to have lunch. She never showed, never called me, never e-mailed, and when I sent both letters and phone calls of inquiry never responded. And that was that. I didn't pursue it any further and after a reasonable amount of time gave up.

I knew she was going through some crazy shit and so I chalked it all up to that. I was angry and hurt for a long time but I eventually made peace with it and forgave her. I made a vow to myself that she would never be a stranger at my door. Ironic that after all this time I am now being faced with making good on that personal oath. Even though my sentiments were genuine and I still feel that way, I honestly never expected her to make contact again.

I know that this is all part of the path and that things happen for a reason. Perhaps this is the only way our friendship could grow and flourish. Sometimes you have to lose something you love in order to truly appreciate it when it comes back again.

A part of me is skeptical about why my old friend has made contact after all these years, but she is still my friend and I will take her reappearance at face value. True friendship after all is about loving and forgiving. We all fall down at sometime and we all make mistakes. This is what makes us human. And friendship and love is what makes us better people.

End of an Era

Tonight Daphne and I attended Cathy's farewell happy hour party. On Sunday she leaves for her new home in Key West. It was good to see her again, and see her looking so happy and well with all of her friends, but at the same time it was also very sad.

For Daphne and I, Cathy was the first working professional in DC around our age whom we met and made friends with. In many ways she was our role model and ideal. She embodied everything that we hoped to one day achieve as young professionals; success, financial stability, good social standing, etc. And yet here we are, older, wiser, and watching as our role model sets sail for the next stage of her journey.

Somewhere in the goodbyes and the promises to keep in touch and see each other again, we are acutely aware that there is a danger of being left behind or not following through ourselves. We are without the image of someone to look up to, and at the same time beyond that. It is our turn now. As one person moves away, two more move forward, filling a place at the table of life and growth.

Nobody said it would be easy, and yet nobody ever said that it would be this hard either. We will stay in touch, and our paths will cross again, but this moment in time will never be repeated exactly the same in the future. No, change is a significant moment, and moments are as unique and individual as the people who live them.

Good Luck Cathy!

Foaming At The Mouth

Forgive me God for I am pissed off. It has been three days since my last rant, and let's just say I am madder than Hell... again! This time it is my orthodontist who is at the focal point of my inconvenience induced fury. What has he done you ask? What hasn't he done!?!

First there are his office hours. I am currently on a flex schedule at work for the summer. This means that if I work extended hours I get to take off every other Monday. This worked out perfectly for me as I can get errands done like going to see the orthodontist for my routine examinations. As it is now I have to take off almost three hours from work to get to my appointments, which last less than 10 minutes, and then come back again. I only live 15 minutes from the man's office for Christ sake! Damn Metro, if they actually used my dollars more efficiently I wouldn't have such a fucked up commute. Anyway...

Well, apparently life has another plan in mind. I called last week to change my existing appointment from today to the next Monday as that is my first flex day. They informed me that they are only at the office location I go to every other Monday. The Monday they are not there is the Monday I have off!!! I wish they had told me this sooner. I didn't even know they had another location. When I asked them if I could just go to the other location they told me no, because since I had seen the doctor at this location and all of my files were there that's where he had to see me. Never mind the man has a very high tech practice and all of my exam photos and files are on a server...

But it gets even better. So this morning I planned to get up extra early and go to work so that I could put in at least an hour before I had to take off for my appointment. Well I didn't push the switch on my alarm clock over all the way so the damn thing didn't go off and I overslept. The result was that I had to drive to the Metro station and get a parking space, then take a bus to my appointment, which I was too early for, and wait.

I didn't get any breakfast so I was very irritable. The appointment went over well but when it came time to pay they hit me with a bill for over $700!!! I went off. They guaranteed me that my payments would be locked down at a fixed rate, so how did this happen? Well apparently unless I fill out yet another form (which they failed to tell me about) they won't automatically charge my credit card. So since my last appointment in February they haven't charged me anything. If looks could kill the receptionist would have been splattered against the back wall! Confronting me with asinine shit like that before I have been caffeinated and fed is a BAD idea.

After that I stopped at Starbucks and got a coffee and muffin then proceeded to wait in the heat for the bus so I could go to work and begin my long day. The rest of this week will be spent playing catch up with my hours in addition to the already extended hours I am working!

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr

Anniversary

So it's been a year already... A year since the madness and heartache that has lead me to the place that I am at today. What a year it has been and what a road it has been to travel down. I am ready now to strip away the veil. To release what remains of the pain and the sorrow and live openly and freely with what has been and what is.

In actuality, today is the last part of a three-part anniversary. The first part was on June 1. That was the day I discovered that a man whom I truly and deeply loved, my first love to be exact, was in his heart and mind not true to me. I did not know at that time, or want to fully realize, what his true feelings were towards me, and had I known earlier things would have turned out much differently.

I remember how completely devastated I was in that instant. The anguish I felt both mentally and physically. The world as I saw it shattered but the world surrounding me kept on spinning, ignorant of my pain. In my grief, and in part shame, I hid the truth of what was happening from all but a select few.

On June 4 I made the long trek to where my beloved lived so that I could get answers and ultimately closure. Where that is exactly is not important. It was a long drive filled and fueled by a constant waterfall of emotions: anger, sorrow, pain, regret, broken heartedness, love.

I took many wrong turns along the way and became lost and scared at times. There was one time in particular when I realized the magnitude of what I was doing. The reality of my own limitations and weaknesses overcame me, and for the first time in a very long time I hit complete and absolute despair. I was so very alone and so very frightened, and in that moment I called out to something, anything, greater than myself for help and I received an answer. In that moment I understood the true meaning of faith and to feel the presence of something divine. After so many long and painful years I had found myself and my spirituality again, perhaps for the first time.

Which brings me to today, the final part of this anniversary. I arrived too late on the 4^th to see my love. So I spent the night in his strange and cold Midwestern city. I didn't dream. My body ached and I shut down more than anything. The following morning, June 5, I went to his home. And there I had one of the hardest but most important and positive experiences of my life.

My ex and I talked. We laughed and cried and in the end we parted ways without animosity and without regret. I still had a broken heart and there were promises made that were never fulfilled, but in the end I had peace. And even today, after all this time, I still feel that same peace. It is over now, but the memories and the experiences I learned will stay with me forever. They helped me grow and become the man that I am. For that I am eternally grateful.

And so I drink a toast to you, my former love, and the fantasy that we knew and the beauty that I found called love. A part of me will always love you, but I can say that in all honesty I am no longer in love with you. Here's to us, and the brief space that we occupied in time together. I wish you well now as I did then. I hope that one day you can find peace and happiness.

Retreat

The past two days have been spent in forced socialization with my coworkers on our annual company retreat. I have been dreading this event for a while and for very legitimate reasons. And while no one was killed or maimed, there was rampant stupidity, ill planning, mayhem, and minor injury. Was I surprised? No. Was that any comfort? A Little.

Day 1: Welted, Wet & Ready To Kill

The two-day (ship of fools) extravaganza kicked off with our combo paintball/white water-rafting trip. We had to drag our asses out of bed at insane hours of the morning (for me, 5:30 am) just to get to the office at 7 am. By 7:15 they packed us onto one of those luxury tourist buses and sent us barreling up I-270 to western Maryland, just on the border of "Wet & Wild" (more like Inbred & Ignorant) West Virginia.

The trip lasted about 2+ hours and consisted of some of the worst coffee this side of 7-11 and an individual serving of apple fritter with one, (count 'em) one whole strawberry and 4oz of yogurt. Um, what happened to the "continental breakfast" we were going to be served? I and certainly everyone else who received the e-mail memo from the retreat committee remembered that unfulfilled promise.

To help choke down this oh-so-appetizing combo of high fructose corn syrup and crude oil we were shown The Breakfast Club as our in-transit movie. Nothing like watching the tragedy that is Molly Ringwald's acting while chewing on apple fritter and trying to kill the taste with coffee that tastes like it was French Pressed using a dirty athletic supporter as a filter (and that was WITH lots of cream and sugar added!)

Sleeping on the bus was impossible, at least for most of us. For those who can sleep through the apocalypse it was a breeze. Being poorly caffeinated and snarky from lack of sleep Jenn and I amused ourselves by sharing a notebook filled with our bitchy but frighteningly truthful observations. It was the best way to pass the time.

By the time we got to the "River & Trail" place that was our primary host destination, unpacked the bus, packed the new one, snapped photos and got underway to the paintball field it was well past 10.

The paintball field was across the border in West Virginia, located on the backside of a hillbilly shack compete with legion of mean, uncared for dogs chained up outside and a huge confederate flag tacked up over one of the windows. Ironically enough, over half of our organization is of multiethnic backgrounds and all of us save five are staunch Democrats. Yeah, good times... It amazed me how shocked people were by this. I was like, "No shit people, WHAT did you expect!?!" Even the dummass retreat committee was appalled. Stupid people, I vow to not let you all go unchecked again next year...

Anyway, so we get there and the guy that runs the place starts doling out equipment: holsters, guns, helmets and chest plates for the women. Well chest plates for 8 of the 20+ women. Seems the guy was low on equipment and meant to order more, but forgot. Adding to this lovely amount of bad planning was the restroom accommodations. There was one very large, very green, wood outhouse with NO DOOR! I shit you not. Again something else the retreat committee failed to check and follow through on. Pure stupidity!

By the time everyone got suited up and had the rules explained it was 10:45. We were scheduled to leave at 11:45. Yeah. We all could have just slept in and left later and just gone rafting all day. Whatever. I was just happy that they gave those of us who were uncomfortable participating in the activity the option to sit out. Jenn, Angela, and myself all stayed in the bus and slept for an hour. It was nice.

Over an hour later everyone returned, hot, sweaty, and thoroughly exhausted. They stripped off their gear and piled back on the bus. No one was too severely hurt, except my boss, who had 6 tennis ball sized welts all over his body, mostly inflicted in part because multiple members of the staff didn't follow the "20 foot rule." And people wondered why I wanted to sit out. If only it had been the President who had gotten pegged like that. That would have been beautiful. He would have killed the retreat committee if that had happened...

After that loveliness we headed back to the River & Trail place, except that when we were on a very dangerous mountain curve one of the back rear tires blew out. I happened to be sitting right above the tire so I felt it blow. Fortunately these busses have double tires, meaning there are two tires back to back on each axle end, so we were able to limp our way to a gas station. We called the River & Trail place and had them send their other bus. The bus we had was apparently the "good" bus yet the back tired blew out because it was a cheap retread. Brilliant. The other bus they sent seemed to be identical to the first and the tires on it didn't blow out so that was good.

From there we headed to the shores of the Shenandoah for our white water rafting. But first we were "treated" to a lunch of over-fried, cold chicken and runny, tepid potato salad, with the optional side of Utz potato chips and watermelon slices. Yum, yum! We suspect the food came from Ma and Pa's chicken shack, but who thought to order it so early in the day is beyond me. The River & Trail place people were the ones who provided this shoe leather masking as poultry. That shit was more burnt batter than chicken. And talk about dry! There are deserts moister than that "chicken" was. I don't eat potato salad but even I could see that what they served was not good. This was confirmed by the individuals who did eat it. I gnarled on two pieces of chicken, before giving up and grabbing a few fistfuls of Utz and some watermelon slices. At least those couldn't be fucked up.

After 30 minutes of chewing and bitching, we changed and got geared up to raft. This was actually fun. I enjoyed the white water rafting a lot. There was never any doubt in my mind that this part was going to be good (lunch excluded). We paddled upstream until we came to the faster waters and had some water fights with the other boats. Our guide was very good and was very knowledgeable about the area and the various attractions we saw.

But this event did not pass without incident. First there was the team building exercise, where they attempted to pile the entire company (about 40 people) in one raft! This was fun but also very scary as they decided to use the raft I was in as the central raft. They also neglected to tell the people in my raft what was going on. We nearly sunk the boat before they decided that we had gotten as many people on as we were going to get. I believe the number was somewhere around thirteen.

After that we moved onto the faster rapids. Once I bounced out of the boat but fortunately the people in my boat caught me and yanked me back so only my ass got soaked. By the way the company president brought his 20-something daughter along on this trip. She ended up in my boat. She's a nice girl but there is nothing like having the Presidents daughter in your raft to make you feel nervous!

After about two hours on the river I had to pee badly — VERY BADLY! I asked our guide how much longer until we made it back to shore because I had to go and couldn't hold it. He told me it would be another hour if I had to go that badly to just hang off the side of the raft! I was horrified and desperate. So I ended up hanging over the side of the boat, my ass just cresting the top of the water, while my department's VP held one arm and the President's daughter held the other so I didn't get sucked under the boat by the current! Jenn was in my boat and got a huge laugh out of it, as we all did. I was completely humiliated. Worse still most of my coworkers in other boats saw me and later enquired what I was doing. It's didn't take long for the story to circulate. *Sigh*

After we got back to shore we headed over to the River & Trail lodge and changed into dry clothes. That was nice. We had a little happy hour before we crammed back into the luxury bus and headed back to DC. On the ride home the stupid retreat committee popped in our return voyage movie: Gladiator. Few were pleased with the choice of this cinematic disaster and many of the women in the bus were disgusted by the violence. I can't say I blame then either.

Day 2: Eat, Drink, Drink Some More, & Be Merry (Then Hung Over)

The second day of the retreat consisted of indoor activities. We all were allowed to get up at a normal hour and met at the Galileo restaurant in DC. The day's activity was breakfast, a tour of the restaurant, then off to the Art institute of Washington where the owner of Galileo's was going to give us a cooking lesson.

We were all seated at tables for about eight and there was lots of fresh, very yummy gourmet coffee. This made up for the toilet bowl brew from the day before. On each table were six little almond biscuit things that were devoured very quickly. There were not enough of them to go around but nobody minded as we had been told that they were going to serve us breakfast. Turns out those tarts were it. There nothing else served to us other than that, which pissed everyone off, especially me. After the fiasco the day before you would think they would have learned something. Apparently not.

This was completely unacceptable. Another coworker of mine (Hello, Gorgeous to be precise) was also irate. We decided to skip out while everyone was given a tour of the kitchen to grab a bagel around the corner. Despite an incredibly slow service and getting lost when we got off the Metro, we made it to the Art Institute just as everyone else did.

Once at AI, we were taken to the test kitchen where we met the Chef and Owner of the restaurant. He was really a lot of fun and very entertaining. We started out making some appetizers that all looked the same so the vegetarians couldn't tell which ones had meat and which ones didn't. Brilliant thinking retreat committee!

After we finished the appetizers, the two on site waiters started pouring us white wine. Very yummy white wine I must add. After that it all turned into an alcohol induced blur because they just kept pouring and pouring and refilling every time the glasses started getting empty. There was laughing and cooking, and lots and lots of drunk people. And pictures! They should not have let us cook over open flames like they did. Not only were we weaving about but if any one of us had breathed on the stoves and the whole place would have gone up in a fireball!

The meal was yummy but there wasn't all that much left available to the vegetarians in the room. And despite the planning the retreat committee said they did, apparently they didn't plan hard enough.

When we were finished cooking and started to sober up it was about 3 pm. Everyone was hoping that we could go home early but apparently the committee had more entertainment planned in the form of improv comedians. This was a bad idea as the comedians were mediocre and we were all coming down off our wine buzzes fast and hard.

After two hours we, and the massive headache hangovers we all had, were allowed to head home. Fortunately the AI is at the Metro station where I catch the bus home, so I was home within the hour. It was about 6:30 pm when I arrived at home and by 7 pm I was in bed and dead asleep. I slept the entire night through.

All in all the retreat was no worse than what I had expected. It lived up to its reputation for being a hodge-podge of good and bad things, accented with ill planning. I have made up my mind that no matter what I will be on the retreat committee next year. If it's one lesson I can take away from this experience it's this: never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.

And The Dumbass Mother Fucker Award Goes To...

... My company's staff retreat committee! This small little group of geniouses decided it was a good idea to schedule us to play paintball for half the day during the two-day company retreat! For those of you not familiar with the "sport" paintball is basically simulated combat warfare that uses gel-cap balls filled with brightly colored paint. Not only does it sting like Hell but it can also leave HUGE bruises and welts on you depending on where it hits you and at what velocity. Yeah.

I am so fucking irate right now I could literally kill! I don't know who is the bigger dumbass on the committee, the person who proposed this activity or the ones who approved it!?! I guess I should have joined when I had the chance. I'll be sure to do so next year. Perhaps I can help avoid stupidity in action. Clearly this year's committee didn't know what they were doing.

I have been dreading this company retreat ever since they announced it. I ABHORE forced social company events. This is one of those "attendance mandatory" gigs. It's wrong is what it is. What irritates me more is the fact that they keep the details of the retreat a secret until about a week before. Apparently the reason for doing this is to keep the bitching among the staff down to a minimum. Never mind the fact that these retreats are usually ill received and often times turn out disastrously.

And of course because of the nature of this event, in addition to my own personal and professional interests, I have to keep my mouth shut and smile. Nothing pisses me off more than having to sit quietly and pander to stupid people in positions of authority.

Above all, my biggest concern is getting badly bruised. I am going to be on public display in shorts and a short sleeve shirt at pride. I can't afford to be black and blue.

I will be very happy when this is all over. In the mean time I have to start preparing. This means altering those shorts I bought last year and never altered in addition to purchasing a special pair of athletic support shorts and plastic cup. I have to protect my boys you know. I bust my balls enough at the office as is!

Changes

Well it's official. I had lunch with Cathy today and returned the spare condo key to her. She leaves for Key West on June 13. Her going away party is June 10, the day before pride...

It's all a little depressing really. So much is changing. Friends are moving away, the urban landscape is metamorphosing at break-neck speed, and my own emotions are both changing and confused.

I have always known to some degree or another what exactly I want out of life. And over the years the goals, hopes, dreams, and priorities have constantly changed. Ever revolving, swirling... I'm tired. It's not enough to play exciting games and be a shooting star in the night sky. I want something simpler yet more meaningful. It's time I make yet another change.

It is time I reprioritize the relationships and situations in my life. I have to focus and see more clearly than I have before where I am going and what exactly I want. My world has changed and I have to finish changing with it instead of being changed by it, which has been the case of late.

There is so much to think about. So much to consider and explore. I just wish I could get away and be alone and decompress. There is too much noise and confusion in my brain and above all I am tired. VERY tired. I need to rest and recharge...

Of Mouse And Angry Gay Man

I smashed my mouse on the floor last night. It shorted out when I was in the middle of an important project. I lost my data. I was pissed. It shattered into many pieces. I felt vindicated. Sort of...

This unfortunate event has taken place at the worst possible time. My schedule is extremely crazy and I am in the middle of doing a website redesign for Bob's musical Rumpelstiltskin's Daughter. It has gotten picked up for the Play festival in Edenborough which a very prestigious accomplishment. However the site he currently has for the show is very outdated and thrown together. He doesn't have the time to seriously devote to it so I offered to rebuild it for him. I'm happy to do it as he is one of my closest friends and the musical is wonderful. However that means my free time is even more restricted.

Now that the mouse is dead I have no choice but to set up my new computer. That in itself is a process that is going to be very time consuming. My old PC is a piece of shit so transferring the files on it to the new one is going to be a problem. The other major obstacle, and the reason I didn't set up the new unit sooner, is that I don't have a copy of the Photoshop to install on it. D has a copy of 7 but hasn't been able to get me a copy. My brother has a copy of 6 which is what I have been using so now I have to make a special trip to get it from him as well as borrow a mouse compatible with my old PC (it refuses to acknowledge my new USB one) so I can get at least the essential files transferred.

All in all this is a major pain in the ass and I am very frustrated and tired. I need a drink... and a vacation!

Suffer The Little Children

I am both sickened and numb at the news of the two second grade girls who were found murdered in Zion, IL yesterday. The girls were described as best friends who went everywhere and did everything together. They were riding their bikes on Sunday which was Mother's Day when they disappeared. They were found by relatives yesterday. They hadn't been sexually assaulted thank God but they had been stabbed repeatedly in the neck and left to die in a ravine.

What kind of sick fuck does such an abominable thing to children?! Children for Christ sake! You can understand adults killing each other a little more, but these are innocent kids who have their whole lives in from of them, who were just living and being.

I don't understand how a world so beautiful as this can be filled with such ugliness and pure evil. I am a person who tries to look at the higher good but it is hard for me to see the higher good in the senseless death of innocents, especially children. Where is the justice? What is the necessity? It is situations like this that test one's faith in humanity and life.

I am overwhelmed. I feel so sick to my stomach having read that headline and at the same time so very angry. It really puts things in perspective. Here we go along with our daily lives and even bitch about our troubles. But we still have our lives, and for most parents they still have their children. Can you imagine losing a child, especially that way? It's just too sad. I don't know what more to say other than that...

Different Drama

Tonight's rehearsal for Flag Corp was "interesting" to say the least. There were more tears, bitchiness, near catfights, and smart-ass remarks than a Dynasty reunion special. I was honestly expecting things to just completely burst into flames. It wasn't that it was a bad rehearsal it was just so full of anxieties and tensions.

It started when all of the Flag Corp participants were assembled. Apparently, because of our small numbers and rag-tag assembly, we may be disbanded by the artistic director. Oddly enough this was a little upsetting to me, but at the same time I had the very evil thought of "Yes! Let us be disbanded! Let me have that excuse to escape." While I am doing much better with the maneuvers, my heart just really isn't in this. It has become for all intents and purposes an obligation. As you can imagine some people were very upset by this. It was not a good way to start rehearsal.

Things only deteriorated when we all had to assemble and march in front of the band. The Drum major was having enough trouble keeping the band members together and we sort of became broken off and left to our own devices. Which apparently is a bad thing as we are at least supposed to be marching in time with the band. Now people I can do a lot of things but marching in time is NOT one of them! Like I have said before, dancing is what I do best, not marching while spinning a big stick!

Naturally I kept falling out of step. Oh, I was keeping up I just wasn't on the right foot with everyone else. Though in my defense nobody else in our party was following along that closely either. All the while our poor, battle-weary leader was shouting out the correct step to try and keep us in formation. It wasn't working. It was very awkward trying to walk that way and I ended up half gimping along in order to remotely keep in time. Like I said, disaster.

Well, we weren't disbanded but we have a lot of work to do and despite the pressure to be perfect we are going to have to settle for being "good enough." I say fuck the coordinated marching and just get the flag routines in order. Nobody is really going to be looking at our feet. We don't even have any routines finished and practiced. It's all been a hodge-podge of moves. Pride is a month away! I know that it will pull together in the end and I will be OK. The key is not to let it stress me out.

In other, related news I have a juicy "Oh, how the mighty have fallen" tidbit. After practice I joined a bunch of the band members at a local Gay bar/restaurant for dinner and drinks. Well apparently one of the very pretentious, snotty people, who I mentioned was part of that group of catty individuals who were being nasty from afar towards me when I joined, has suddenly changed his tune quite a lot and is in fact not so high and mighty anymore.

After the first few rehearsals I began giving this individual the cold shoulder, as he was one of the primary catty bitches in the pack. I noticed shortly after he started making efforts to insert himself into my presence. It was childish but I basically talked around him and just refused to make eye contact. When dealing with such individuals sometimes you have to stoop to their level to convey the message. I was NOT going to be intimidated by his pompousness and certainly would not award such behavior with my attention.

And while my intent was to just be cold and make my disgust of this individual known it seems to have resulted in a reversal of behavior. He actually went out of his way to be nice to me tonight! I was polite in reciprocation but I'm not so easily swayed. I don't care for this man's personality period, but it is better to at least have a civil interaction than a completely uncomfortable one. I also discovered that while he puts on the airs he is not living high off the hog. My financial situation may even be better than his if you can believe that. It wasn't a direct conversation about the topic mind you, but enough information was revealed that it didn't take much to put all the pieces together and see the big picture.

It made me chuckle to myself. It really is all about the appearance. If you carry yourself a certain way and wear a certain mask and are convincing enough people believe what they see. I knew he was a catty disingenuous person, but this new revelation puts a lot of things into perspective. As very immature as this may sound, I don't feel so threatened. In fact I feel like the playing field has been leveled. I know my enemy's weakness. He obviously isn't living the fabulous lifestyle he wishes he were so he has to inflate his ego in order to compensate.

Though in the bigger and more important scheme of things, I really need to work on some of my own insecurity issues, in addition to a number of other things swimming about in my mind and life presently. But breaking the fears and thoughts of the past is not easy, and certainly not a quick process. Time has a way of making us grow and I hope that if I continue to focus on learning and growing that in time I will.

Little Black Shirt

I had a very fun and enlightening conversation with a coworker today about "The Little Black Shirt." This all started as a result of a conversation I had with Ryan. He had mentioned that I was always wearing the same black shirt in most of my pictures. I explained the reason why as simply, "It's my little black shirt."

This extended into a conversation with a fashion forward coworker of mine. And we concluded that all (or most anyway) have (or should have) "a little black dress" in their wardrobe. And sometimes even more than one. For Gay men it's "the little black shirt." It looks great with everything, it makes your figure look it's most flattering, and you have an emotional and spiritual attachment to it more than any other garment in your closet. Plus it is one of the pieces of clothing you wear most.

In testing out this theory it was concluded that all of the Gay men in my office own a little black shirt, which they adore and wear constantly. I am yet to extend my inquiry into my circle of friends. Please feel free by the way to weigh in on this topic. Do you have a little black shirt in your wardrobe?

Venti Break Up With A Shot of Fuckwittage

Tonight I was sitting outside at the café tables at one of the Starbucks's in Flake Circle waiting for Rick (the head of the Flag Corp) to show up for our scheduled rehearsal.

While I am sitting there drinking my coffee and working on some admin stuff for the site I notice a man three tables over. There was nothing special about this guy, he was in his 40's and rather plain looking wearing nondescript work out pants and a t-shirt. What drew my attention was his overly loud conversation on his cell phone. He had sat down and then dialed a number and proceeded to talk to someone (presumable his boyfriend) whom he addressed as "baby." He asked about his day and said that he looked stressed earlier that day. I didn't hear the rest, it wasn't a long conversation, and then he hung up.

Well I took another look at this man and remember seeing him talking to one of the guys that worked at the Starbucks, who was rather striking and in his early to mid-twenties. They seemed to know each other and sure enough a few minutes later this same employee came out and sat at the table with him. I knew immediately that they were lovers but something was definitely off about this. And it didn't take long to figure out what.

The older man took on a reserved tone and body language and started looking at the ground as he calmly explained to his boyfriend that it "just isn't working out." I nearly dropped my drink when I caught the first line. It just trickled forth so easily from his lips. And as I watched a very painful and gruesome picture unfolded.

Here this young guy obviously cared about this man a lot and as his boyfriend proceeded to lay it all out of why he breaking up with him he just stiffened and tried to act calm and collected. I knew that reaction all too well. The classic "try and play it cool while your world is spinning out of control and exploding inside your chest" reaction to a break up you didn't see coming. What angered me more was how his boyfriend was behaving in his breaking it off.

Here he had shown up at the guy's place of work and is telling him in the most cold dispassionate way while on his break that it's over! This man's excuses were classic fuckwittage, pulled from the Top 10 List of excuses to use when breaking up with someone in an awkward manor. They included, "the differences in our ages" "our schedules," "it was just bad timing," "I'm sad it didn't work out," and my all time favorite, "Nothing's wrong it's not you, it's just... not working." Jesus, George Bush is more sincere sounding and less obvious when delivering a political speech than this asshole!

Worse still this guy obviously has another man already lined up, just based on his earlier phone call, so this break up is really just a formality. FUCKWITTAGE! I felt awful for his boyfriend and furious at him. I wanted to go over there and dump my drink down his pants and call him out for the insensitive pig that he is. I didn't mind you. I just sat there taking notes on what I was watching so I could write about it here. Hmmm documenting other people's public tragedy... Yep! I'm an American alright!

It just makes me sick how immature, recklessly insensitive, and just heartless men can be to each other. Joe and I talked about this tonight and neither one of us was able to come up with a good explanation for why so many men can't seem to communicate properly to one another and when they do why they do it in the worst ways possible. It is very disheartening.

As for the gentlemen in question here, I hope the wheel of karma spins around hard and kicks him in the ass. As I have said so many times before about people like him, may someone leave a flaming bag of poop on his doorstep!

After The Glitter Fades

I have been doing a lot of thinking since I read Heather's LiveJournal entry from Saturday. I was really surprised at how depressed she is and moreover that to hear I have become more distant and unapproachable. She mentioned that I have changed a lot over the years (which is true and not a bad thing) but that I come off a lot of times as a bit of a Diva and that I have changed so much that she doesn't feel like she knows me anymore. That really made me stop and think.

True we have grown apart in many ways over the years and certainly our lives have taken different directions, but underneath it all the core always seem to remain the same, or so I thought. In examining things more closely I realize that I have not been as good a friend as I could have and that the projections I sometimes give of myself, even to those close to me, are not always accurate and potentially misleading.

Heather and I had a chat on AIM about it. Our friendship is not ending, nobody's feelings are hurt, and it is not a crisis situation yet. But it is certainly something that needs attention. Over the years our friendship has been changing and evolving as we have, which is what all relationships do over time. But because of the lack of tending to, our relationship to each other has become very estranged and just undefined. New ground and a new center of balance need to be found and I am confident that now that the issue has been addressed we will be able to reestablish who we are to each other once more.

Even still, it has triggered a string of introspection into my life and how I nurture my relationships with people. The more I look at it the more I begin to see in frightening Technicolor that I have become so busy and so overstretched that I am losing sight of the people and things in my life that are important to me. And I have been wearing so many masks and doing so many routines to keep up the pretense that everything is fine when it is really on the brink of chaos that people are beginning to believe the lie and respond accordingly. And in turn I am beginning to believe the masks that people I am close to are wearing that say they are doing OK when they are really in a lot of pain.

Bottom line: I have lost touch with the reality of the world around me and the people in it. And that really bothers me. I am not the kind of person who values themselves more than everyone and everything else. But lately I have been so caught up in jumping through every hoop and taking up every social cause that I have become completely self involved. I have strayed from my path again.

But everything happens for a reason and the recent chaos I have been feeling in my life is symptomatic of this. Subconsciously I have known for a long time that things have been off-track. On a conscious level I was too distracted to see it and only registered the signs through mental and physical fatigue.

The question now is, how do I sort it all out and find harmony again? Obviously I have to spend some serious time nurturing certain people and relationships in my life, but that is easier said than done. I have overbooked myself to the point where I am walking on a tightrope, and the walk will not end for some months to come. There is a solution and I will find it. I just need to concentrate on making due with what is in front of me and not on what lies on the next horizon. I guess this is what happens after the glitz and glamour of your current lifestyle wears off. The ugly, marred veneer of reality that lies underneath shows through. And despite how you feel orr how would like to believe things are, you have to accept it and do something about it. It's time for me to start refinishing the wood underneath rather than continue to slap coats of paint on top of it in order to hide the damage.

F³: Frantic, Frustrated & Furious

Today we had an all day Flag Corp and Marching Band rehearsal. It was grueling to say the least. Only three of us in the Flag Corp showed up which was very discouraging. Even more discouraging and frustrating is the fact that I am not good at handling the flag. All the basic movements are easy, but the spins and tosses are very difficult and I find it almost impossible to follow the specific hand movements we are supposed to follow while twirling that damn flag and going at full speed. The instructors are helpful but not the greatest of teachers. Over all I am tired, sore, irritated, frustrated, and overwhelmed.

In retrospect I am really wondering if this was such a good idea after all. I am not very confident that I will be able to perform adequately in time for the pride parades. And of course now it is really too late to pull out. After all I have committed myself. Well I could always pull out, but that would be disastrous not only for the band but my image. I wouldn't be able to volunteer with them again without being subject to criticism and catty comments and behavior. And there is PLENTY of that already.

While most of the band members could care less about my presence there are several members of thee group, particularly in the head of the organization, who have made it quite clear that they think I am a complete joke and beneath them. These stuck up cowards have not had the courage to say it to my face, but their standing around in groups like high school cheerleaders looking in my direction while smirking, gossiping, and laughing speaks volumes. Especially since these are men in their 40's! But I guess some people never grow up.

And while some people in the organization have made efforts to be nice to me and make me feel welcome, these other elements are a complete turn off on the whole. Especially since they are in some of the top positions. If they were just regular members I wouldn't care but they are pompous assholes in positions of authority so there is no getting around them. And quite frankly I don't need that kind of shit.

It makes me grin evilly when they bitch and complain about the poor turnout and lack of support and funding they get. After all you reap what you sow. But at the same time there are many good people who are also hurt by the band's misfortune so I should be careful about how much ill will I relish in. I'm just pissed off. Their behavior is wrong and people like that NEED AND DESERVE to be publicly humiliated and knocked down into the mud with thee rest of us. But that's just my un-humble and self-righteous opinion on the matter

I know I should try to rise above this but it is very hard. Once again I am reminded of my own insecurities and social "place" in the DC Gay community. I get along with a lot of people and am able to hold my own in terms of conversation, but I don't "fit" in anywhere or with any group. And in many cases my presence is not wanted. I don't demand attention or special treatment but I will not tolerate being treated like some kind of joke. It all goes back to my childhood and the fact that I was rejected by my peers and forced to live as an outcast who was constantly taunted and the butt off every joke.

But that is part of life in general, not just Gay life. There will always be times and occasions where you don't fit in and are treated as a social misfit. The key is to find the higher ground and seek what is true while not compromising who you are. If I run away I will never learn to face my issues and obstacles. I will never win some peoples praise and there are certainly plenty of minds I won't change. But I can prove to myself, the only person I need to prove anything to, that I can make it in an adverse environment. I have done that all my life, no point in giving up now.

There is a higher purpose and meaning in all of this. There is a Buddhist philosophy that states, "To live is to suffer." I believe that. Life is never without suffering but it is not the meaning or purpose of life, just a part of the experience the same as joy and happiness. My pain and suffering are part of my journey and experience that help to shape who I am and teach me the lessons I need to learn.

So for now it will have to be enough that I am in the situation I am in and that my only choice is to continue to try and make the best of it. I will be a better person for at least trying rather than giving up because the road is a little rough. I may not choose to relive this experience next year but I certainly will complete the experience and journey I have begun this year. I will get through this damn it, even if it kills me!

On an unrelated side note, it those of you reading this who actually get the reference in the title of this entry, let me just say that you are big perverts and I approve!

A Rainy Night In Providence

It's raining again here in Providence. This morning when Miriam and I woke up it was coming down in buckets. Luckily it stopped and turned into a wonderful day. It is still chilly though. Tonight we visited two artist friends of hers and spent several hours just talking and having a good time. I really enjoyed it a lot.

I don't know what it is, but tonight I feel very down. Everything around me feels out of control. I feel out of place in my own life. I am really looking forward to coming home. While on the one hand I wish I could stay here longer and really soak up the atmosphere and experiences, it also feels like I have been away too long. Part of me is longing for the familiar chaos of my everyday life. The ignorant bliss.

I need to come home again, to be in my own element. I have had many wonderful experiences while I have been here in providence, but I have also felt a sad longing. These past few days I have seen glimpses of paths my life could have taken, paths I will never be able to walk, not in the same way. It's hard to explain. Maybe I'm just rambling nonsensically. I feel lonely and a bit lost. For the first time in a long time I feel as if I'm not sure where I'm going or what moves to make. Perhaps I am searching too hard for a sign. I don't know... I just don't know...

All I know for sure is that I feel like I am running. Running away from things unknown while at the same time running towards something equally unfamiliar. Everything is happening so quickly, I feel swept up. Have I perhaps become the kind of person who is so busy and consumed by work and life that I have forgotten how to relax and let go and simply vacation and rest?

I don't regret taking the time off and coming here. I only wish I could visit Miriam more often. I am more painfully aware than I was before just how scattered many of my close friends are. It's not so easy to just jump on a bus and get in the car and see them. There are too many miles and complications between us now. We have left our adolescences behind and embraced the open world of our growing adult lives. And in the process we have all left something behind. Knowledge and growth is never without cost. When one thing is gained something else is lost. Nothing ever remains unchanged.

And so here I find myself, alone in the ambient glow of my laptop monitor, searching my conflicted heart and mind for answers and solutions to hidden questions and problems. I know that things are unfolding in the way that they need to unfold. I am on a path headed to somewhere, and when the time is right I will know the name of my destination. For the time being I have to find the middle ground as best I can and hold on. Enlightenment is only as far away as the next horizon. Right now I'm on the road between yesterday and tomorrow.

The Beat of Different Drums

I am fucking exhausted. Last night was my first rehearsal for DC's Different Drummers Flag Corp. The Flag Corp accompanies the DD Marching band in the pride parade and do dance routines while maneuvering large flags. It is a lot of fun but a lot of work. I am really looking forward to being in the local pride parades. We will be performing in three total: DC Pride, Baltimore Pride, and the July 4^th Palisades. I can't wait!

And speaking of things that march to beat of a different drum, I see that the Catholic Church has at last elected a new Pope. I must say that is a quick appointment, but really very sensible. After all, you can't run a huge organization without a head for a long period of time. And while I am not Catholic (having long since cut those ties) I am very disappointed and disgusted with their choice of a new Pope.

Yes the holier-than-thou Benedict (or is that "Been-a-dick?") XVI. I don't know about you but he reminds me of the Rat King from the Nutcracker Suite. Though an ugly appearance is the worst of this man's bad qualities. He is an outspoken conservative and quite frankly more of an intolerant nut job than John Paul II.

Ah well, that's the Catholic Church for you. God forbid they actually be progressive. No instead it's better to bad mouth the Jews, segregate women as second-class citizens, and preach hate against Homosexuals. You know the Catholic Church really blew it with progressive rights in the church. They had the perfect opportunity to increase their membership and rejuvenate their image. They could have set the standard for all other Christian religions in the areas of tolerance, fellowship, and unconditional love. Instead they are choosing to stay mired in anachronistic rhetoric and ignorance, while the rest of Christianity moves forward and leaves them behind.

It is a good thing that Benedict XVI is as old as he is. Hopefully he won't be in office very long. Though I'm sure regardless of how short a period of time he is in office he will do more than his share of destruction. His views are so backward and fiercely conservative that the church's already restrictive and alienating dogma will only be taken to greater levels. And you better believe all those "good Christian soldiers" will be turned into an army of hate mongers and hypocritical sheep, tended by a Shepard who in his own right is closer to the fires of Hell than the demons he preaches against.

You reap what you sow, and chances are the Catholic Church will be reaping a very sparse and bitter crop in the years to come. I hope that its followers who find themselves displaced and shunned by the church will be able to find alternative and more fulfilling spiritual paths. Everything happens for a reason, and sometimes for things to get better they must get worse. For those affected by this new order, whether directly or indirectly, that the outcome is in the end positive.

Gun Control For Nut Control

Am I the only one frightened by the reports of Ted Nugent's gun-slinging antics at the National Rifle Association's (NRA) annual convention on Saturday? We all know this man is a complete nut job, but it takes on a whole new level of concern when the man openly admits to it with classic, all-encompassing statements that urge NRA members to be, "hardcore, radical extremists demanding the right to self defense." The statements only get worse with the addition of, "Let's next year sit here and say, 'Holy smokes, the NRA has 40 million members now,'" he said. "No one is allowed at our barbecues unless they are an NRA member. Do that in your life." Excuse me Mr. Nugent but Osama called, he wants his rhetoric back.

It's time to be afraid people. Be very, very, VERY afraid. With crazies like this running around, the Bush administration in the White House, and an ever encroaching right-wing religious extremist movement interjecting its beliefs into our government we are all on the fast track to Hell via an out of control police state.

I am all for citizens rights to defend themselves and bear arms, but like anything there needs to be some level of restriction for the safety of all. Gun control isn't about citizen control, but nut control. Do you really want someone unstable and trigger happy at liberty to shoot first and ask questions later running free on the streets? Once you're dead you're dead. It's too late then. And with crazies like Ted Nugent spouting such fascist rhetoric is it any wonder people are pushing harder to restrict gun rights further?

If the NRA truly wants to be affective they need to reshape their image and their attitude that the ownership and unrestricted use of guns is some kind of God given right. Killing criminals in the street won't solve problems, if history has taught us anything it's that looser gun controls only increase the level of violence in society and crime. Crime is the symptom of a much larger problem. You want to stop crime, target the causes of crime, like poverty, hate, and ignorance. You take care of those issues and you'll see a drastic reduction in the number of crimes committed.

Unfortunate ignorant hicks like Ted Nugent and the other NRA members don't want to listen to sound reasoning. Instead they behave in just as pig headed and misguided a way as the anti-fire arms extremists they purport to fight. Two wrongs don't make a right and two groups of ignorant extremists only create further chaos and destruction.

We need to start finding alternative and more effective ways to deal with our problems than pulling out a gun and popping someone or starting wars with other people. Everybody only has one life they will live, at least in their present incarnation, and no matter what the children are the ones who will live to see tomorrow and inherit all we have left for them. Instead of trying to change the world through force we should be changing ourselves through enlightenment. It's easy to flow with the tide; it's much harder to rise above to higher ground.

Sex And The Piercing

I was feeling a bit bored and stressed so I decided to kill a few minutes but taking some more personality quizzes. The two that I took today were about what Sex And The City character and what body piercing I am. Odd I know, but hey that's me. So here are the results:

This is so very true. What I like most about this quiz is that it breaks down what percentage of each character you are. After all people don't fit into singularly categories and if you've ever watched this show you realize that each of these women have a part of the others in their personality. Very cool.

 

This one is both interesting and gross. I never thought of people as having body piercing equivelants, but I guess they do. This description is pretty accurate. Hmmm...

Paths To Enlightenment

Well this just cracked me up. I was reading Heather's blog today and she had this great little quiz from the people at Quizfarm. I love their quizzes and posted some of my quiz results in past entries. This quiz is designed to pinpoint which religion your personal beliefs more closely follows. It also gives you a breakdown of how well you scored in each of the given religions. Take a look at my results.

I never considered myself much of a Buddhist. Interesting...

Actually what cracked me up was that given the percentages of each religion's values that I associate with, I have a three-way tie with Christianity, Agnosticism, and Santanism. What the fuck kind of line up is that. How in the Hell did I even have marks that HIGH in Satanism. Craziness. Though all of these quizzes have a certain amount of grey zone, so that is what I am chalking up that bizarre split to.

All in all it was a lot of fun. And who knows, maybe I'll check out a book on Buddhism from the library someday soon. Does the Tao of Pooh count?

Ding-Dong! The Pope Is Dead

After what almost seems like an eternity in office, Pope John Paul II has at last passed on to the next stage of his journey. Yes, people in case you missed the two weeks of 24/7 media coverage (in whatever cave you might be living in) the Pope has kicked it.

This is a sad time for Catholics around the world. As for me and the rest of the non-Catholic populace, we are sad that they have lost their leader but certainly not grieving in the same way. If at all. I'm certainly not. He was no "great leader" to me or anyone else who fell on the shadowed side of his beliefs.

True he did many great works for the poor and for children, but for every good deed he did, he did just as many bad ones with his messages of conditional love, intolerance, and sexism. This is a man who told parents to love their Homosexual children for who they are but at the same time told these same parents to make their kids conform to a lifestyle that banished all Homosexual thoughts and actions. This intolerant and separate but not equal view only came further to a festering head when he came out a few months ago with his comments about Gay marriage being an "Ideology Of Evil."

But lets also not forget his ever-reoccurring missteps towards the Jewish community. He claimed to embrace them and not view them as a people who were going to Hell, but then would come out with statements such as the killing of fetuses through abortion is the same as the killing of the Jews by the Nazis during World War II.

And last but not least his policy towards women in the church. To Pope John Paul II, women were good enough to be mothers and nuns but not good enough to be alter maidens and conduct Mass. When asked about this topic all he would ever say is, "We're not even discussing that." Hmmm sounds like a classic sexist "Go away little girl" remark to me.

And yet, people continue to idolize him and purport him as this great figure of Christianity. Bullshit. He was just as big a hypocrite as the rest of the Church and the bulk of its followers; the only difference is that he had a big hat, shiny robes, scepter, and a palace to set him apart from the madding crowd. I find the entire papal institution to be a laughable anachronism of suedo-royal hierarchy. And for an institution that prides itself on being so pious and humble, it sure does suck up the media attention and money easily enough.

I am quite frankly sick of hearing about the Pope and his death. Every time the man hiccupped it was practically written up or blasted all over the TV. And his final days drew as much media coverage as 9/11. You know the Catholic religion and its icons are the only religious institution and figures that would garner this much media attention. If the Dali Lama were to become ill or die sure we'd hear about it, but it would not be covered the way the Pope's passing has been covered and will continue to be covered in the weeks to come, with 24 hour reports and a plethora of news special and memorial programming. So much for bipartisan news coverage.

It makes me crazy just thinking about it. Enough is enough already. It is time we get back to covering the OTHER events of the world. You know there is more happening around us than the burial of one religious leader. The media may have come to a stop over this, but the natural forces and events that move this world every second of every day have not. It's time to start putting things back into perspective. Continue to cover him if you like, but for Christ sake start reporting on something else as well!

I May Just Be A Super Hero

No matter how many times I watch Lila, something amazing or just out of the ordinary always seems to happen. Maybe it's Lila, or maybe it's the energy of the city. But whatever it is it always seems to find me and give me some interesting stories.

Today is the perfect case in point. I was running Lila around the block for the second time after work when we came upon a couple and their daughter. Lila was very excited and when the little girl caught sight of her she shrieked with delight and came running up the street. This little girl was so cute, about a year and half maybe two years old, and just the happiest child you have ever seen. Well all of her enthusiasm spooked Lila and she took off like a shot, first running past this little girl then quickly snapping around and running away in the opposite direction.

Well the leash caught this little girl around the neck, who was still very much an off balance toddler, and sent her flying to the ground. It all happened so quickly yet as I watched it seemed like it was happening in slow motion. Before I knew it I shot forward, grabbed the kid around the waist and spun, thus preventing her from hitting the sidewalk and dislodging the leash from around her neck. The little girl just giggled, she wasn't even startled.

I barely even registered what had happened when her parents, whose mouths were on the sidewalk, exclaimed, "Wow! Thank you! That was a nice catch! You looked like a dancer!" I blushed. I didn't know what to say and I was amazed at what I had just done. But I felt very proud.

I am still beaming and in a state of shock. Guess despite my normally clumsy nature I can be very agile and coordinated when it counts. Guess all those aerobics classes have paid off once again.

Irony of Ironies

Well the Florida House Of Representatives has passed a bill entitled the "Stand Your Ground" bill that will allow citizens to kill in self-defense on the street, with particular regard to hand guns. This bill has been endorsed and heavily backed by non-other than Governor Jeb Bush himself. Wasn't this the same man who was trying to keep a brain-dead woman alive?

I swear, the longer we allow these Texas hill-billies to run wild in our governments the worse deterioration our country falls into. I am all for being able to protect yourself, and even being able to use deadly force in case of a life or death situation. But legislation such as this, while good in principle is just plain stupid. This law with it's pro gun bent will only give trigger happy loonies a license to kill.

True they will still have to defend their actions in court but that won't make much of a difference if an innocent party is dead. Think about it, the next time you get into a fight with someone on the street in Florida you could be blown away. Yeah they would have to defend their action but you'd still be dead and given the nature of our judicial system they could very well end up getting off.

This all just more classic backwards Republicanism at work again. They will fight to change the law to keep a vegetable alive but they will endorse free killing in the streets. I swear they are just trying to turn the entire country into the State of Texas. Backwards, self righteous, and antiquated archaic and barbaric in its methods of problem solving.

I like what the Florida Democratic Rep Irv Slosberg said. His comments were, "All this bill will do is sell more guns and possibly turn Florida into the OK Corral." Sad to say, but he's right. Guess we should all start practicing our hill-billy hollers.

Home Is Where You Find It... Literally!

Day two of my search for a new home. It isn't looking any better, though then again it is still early on. I did get some good news from an acquaintance of mine. Apparently I may be in a position to GASP! BUY a place instead of renting one. I didn't believe this at first, because I don't have a penny to my name, but apparently it is possible.

From what this man told me if my credit score is high enough I could qualify for two mortgages. One would pay for the down payment on the property and the other would pay for the rest for the cost. I couldn't believe my ears, but apparently this is what he did just a few months ago. I have a stable job at a VERY successful company and I have no debt other than my car plus I have a very good payment history.

I have been mulling this over and it may just not be as crazy an idea after all. I asked him for the info of his realestate agent. Apparently she's fabulous and walked him through every step of the process. I only need a one-bedroom place, but if I qualify a small townhome would be nice. And I don't mind something that is a little bit of a fixer upper, provided it doesn't involve plumbing...

So now I have a whole new avenue ahead of me. I'd rather buy than rent and the idea of owning my own place, even though it means I'd be hocked up over my head, would be wonderful. I will have to give this some serious consideration as well as get the info for this fabulous realestate agent. After all she'll help me determine if I'm even eligible for such an investment right off the bat.

It's true you learn something new everyday. Although this means that I have a lot more work to do than I initially anticipated...

A Crawl Space By Any Other Name

I have come to the point where it is necessary and financially do able for me to move out of the cheaply rented confines of my mother's home. I should have been gone a long time ago but my financial circumstances as well as a few life-altering dramas prevented that from happening. However upon reviewing my current expenses vs. my monthly income it is a doable situation for me to move out BY MYSELF! This has been the key, as I detest roommates and living with people other than a serious love interest. I am fiercely territorial and I NEED my own space, damn it!

And so, in keeping with this newfound direction I have begun my great search for a single person dwelling in which to live. So far the results have been very disheartening. I looked at a basement "studio" apartment this afternoon in all places, Flake Circle (a.k.a. Dupont Circle). The rent was dirt-cheap and according to the present occupant, who was moving to another city, the place was fantastic and she would never move if not for her knew job.

Sounds good right? WRONG! If it's cheaply priced and in the city it's a piece of shit. Or as the case here was, a cleaned up rat's nest with uneven floors, cracked but clean bathroom titles, sagging closet shelves and enough room for a bed or a coach, your choice! I was disgusted when I saw the place. To add insult to injury it was teaming with Rain today and I had to wait ten minutes in line to see this crawl space the landlady (who wasn't present) called a basement apartment. The place was like some hovel out of a Dickens novel complete with entrance UNDER the stairs of the townhouse above, which was very dark and the perfect place to get mugged and or raped.

I left irritated and severely let down. But this was the first place on my small but hopeful list of rentals to check out. *Sign* I know that everything happens for a reason but this kind of incident makes it hard to keep one's eyes fixed towards the horizon. Something good will come when the time is right. Though the more I think about it, the more I become convinced that I will be forced to stay in dreaded NoVa. AT least it's not the ghettos/suburbs of Maryland...

For Responsible Adults Everywhere

I have not stopped laughing since I saw this. Jenn scored big time in the "Free Stuff From Street Nuts" department last week. This is an advertisement for the new Volkswagen Jetta. It's a seven page "activity book" entitled: The Very Responsible & Totally Sensible Adult Activity Book. Being April Fools Day I figured now was the perfect time to share it with you in the form of a PDF document. Enjoy!

If you don't have Adobe Acrobat you can download the reader version of the software for FREE from the Adobe website.

Full of Grace

So the end of the grief and misery that has for so long been the life legacy of Terri Schiavo has come to an end. Early today, she passed away in the hospice center where she has been kept alive for the past 15 years.

I don't really have much in the way of mixed emotions about her passing. For so long she had been sustained by artificial means in a perpetual stasis of stagnancy. She didn't get worse and she didn't get better. She went from being an active, energetic young woman full off dreams and hopes to being a living corpse who in the end became the center of an unwanted media and political circus, and the feuding line between two families.

No, for Terri's sake and that of her family, both extended and biological, and her friends her passing is a good thing. It is a blessing veiled by an unpleasant disguise. If her husband and his family are to be believed, which I believe they are telling the truth, Terri never would have wanted to live like this. And so, in the end, she was liberated from an existence prolonged by technology. She is at peace now and with God.

I feel sorry for her family. While on the one hand their single minded determination to keep Terri alive more for their own sake than hers, is disgraceful, I can understand that their overwhelming grief and inability to let her go drove them to the extremes that they went to. Emotion and grief are strong forces, perhaps even stronger than the wind itself. As aggravating and irksome as it all was, I can't fault them for their humanity. They truly did what they felt was the right thing. I hope that now that it is over, they will be able to find peace and closure.

What now of Michael Schiavo and his family, Terri's extended family? I think they came to terms with the situation a long time ago. But the struggle is still not over. There will continue to be legal attacks and battles from Terri's family and on top of that, they must mourn her loss all over again. For even though she was gone, she wasn't really gone completely. Now, she is truly dead and passed on to some other, better place. They too still have a long road ahead of them and I hope that they will be able to find the strength and peace of mind they will need to forge the coming years.

And what about Terri Schiavo? Is this all what she really would have wanted? That's the question everyone has been trying to answer for years. The truth is we will never really know for certain. Without documented evidence all we can do is base our beliefs off of our own moral and ethical views, what we think she would have wanted, and what we consider most compassionate. I do know one thing though; Terri Schiavo would not have wanted the national attention she received. She never would have wanted that. The exploited details of her private life have told us that much.

No matter how you look at it, it is at last over. EVeryone can finally begin to move on and in time this entire event will become forgotten except to those who it personally touched and future legal cases that may benefit from it's outcome. But more importantly Terri Schiavo can finally begin the next part of her journey. And to answer the cries of all the fundamentalists who were looking and praying so hard for a miracle to occur, let me tell you that the miracle has been here all along. You know what it was? The miracle was Terri's life and death, the world and people that surrounded her. She was an individual who was truly loved, for if she wasn't, people on both sides of this debate including strangers, would not have gone to the lengths they did. True, there were the unscrupulous press and politicians who used human suffering as a vehicle for their own advancement but that is an everyday part of life and to be expected. That aside, an entire community demonstrated over the past decade that they loved Terri Schiavo and in that sentiment came together for better or for worse. Ask yourselves how many people would rally like this for you if you were in the same situation.

Despite the loss of privacy and dignity that Terri Schiavo suffered as a result of this tragic situation, there is one thing she never lost. Despite it all, including the heart attack that claimed her life, as she knew it, Terri Schiavo never lost her grace. That is another miracle unseen. In the end Terri Schiavo embraced death shrouded in love and full of grace.

So Last Season

Some of my coworkers and I got into a very interesting discussion today about the practices of modern journalism. The recent events regarding the life and death of Terri Shaivo have only helped to remind us of just how insensitive and shameless the American institution of journalism has become in its constant quest for money and high viewer ship.

Today's Post is a good case in point. Recently there was a huge earthquake in Indonesia. You would think this kind of news would make front-page headlines. Instead it was passed around like the homely stepchild nobody wants. Only 1/3 of the realestate on the front page was devoted to it, while rest was given to a feature on the rained out White House Easter Egg Roll. The Business section had nothing on it; they were too busy talking about the lawsuit that might sink the Sony Play Station 2 game console. Likewise with the Metro section. No, where the Indonesian tragedy ended up mostly was as a sidebar on the front page of the Style section, quiet, unassuming, and hopelessly outglammed by a massive page consuming article about the personal life and passions of Prince Charles. After all he's due to be remarried early next month so it's time to begin the countdown to the big event. Besides, hurricanes and earthquakes were so last season. That's when we had about half a dozen of them in the world. They dominated the headlines and our societal hearts then, but now that sort of story is passé.

It's sad, it really is. I blame our over commercialized society and the onslaught of reality TV for the increasing decline in good journalism. Five years ago natural disasters would have dominated the headlines regardless of the time of year or the proximity of others that had come before. And the press certainly would not have been exploiting poor Terri Shaivo's personal life to the extent that they have. But no, in a day when millions race home to watch the latest show about somebody else's personal life, there is no privacy or respect for those who are unfortunate enough to find themselves as front page news. And there is certainly no justice for those who are the victims of tragedies that should be reported on but are ignored in favor of something more sexy and alluring.

We are a nation of fickle vanity. Few people care about the rest of society so long as they are kept constantly entertained. When you consider almost 50% of the programs on TV are reality based shows that barge into every aspect of people's lives and exploit that knowledge for profit, it is disheartening. The big bust for this kind of programming that was predicted almost two years ago has not occurred. Instead reality TV shows have continued to thrive, twisting and de-evolving into newer and more exploitive entities that command a cult-like following and more importantly generate an insane amount of money. And we all know how money talks.

I'm not sure what can be done about it, if anything at all. I'm no saint. I follow my fair share of celebrity gossip but I can at least take heart in the fact that while I follow many of these scandals I do so in more of an informative manner rather than for the shear allure of gossip and entertainment. I am curious as to what is going on in the world and what our societal idols are up to in general.

In the big scheme of things I don't care if Ashton and Demi are trying to have kids or if Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston are filing for divorce. That shit isn't important. I don't even care what Michael Jackson does in court. I am interested in the heart of the matter, which is, did he molest the kid or not? The rest is merely distraction and needless window dressing.

I really hope that our society begins to turn itself around soon. And while I sincerely hope it will, somehow I doubt that things will improve. If recent trends are any guideline, then we are on a path to Hell that in the end will be paved with our own greed, vanity, and disinterest. I wonder what we'll all do and entertain ourselves with then?

Death Without Dignity

The media circus surrounding the Terri Schiavo right-to-die case reached an all time low today with the publishing of an in-depth article about her life in the Style section of The Washington Post. Is there nothing this woman has left that is considered sacred? With the courts upholding Michael's decision to remove the feeding tube and all subsequent appeals being rejected isn't it time we let this woman die with peace and dignity?

It made me sick reading the article which detailed every minutia of her life including the actual figures of her fluctuating weight and the events that led to her eating disorder induced heart attack. There were pictures and quotes from members of both families. Tragedy is not a strong enough word to describe what has been made of this woman's life and her imminent death.

Ironically enough according to the article she hated public attention and was a quiet and shy person. And even with that knowledge the Post didn't feel the least bit discouraged from going ahead with writing a full page detailed biography of her life. The Washington Post and the article's writer should be ashamed of themselves. The flimsy thread of concern carefully woven throughout the piece was not enough to conceal the blatant exploitation of this woman's plight.

I commend Michael Schiavo for not dignifying the scandal hungry media with many comments or press releases. God knows this must be the Hardest thing in the world for him to bear, and only someone who truly loved their partner would hang in there for 15 years and continue to try and do the right thing even at the cost of their own privacy and image. Unlike these righteous zealots who are standing around with their protest signs and trying to bend the government to their will, he is a true Christian. This world needs a lot more Christians off his caliber instead of these lunatics who parade themselves off as the religious right hand of the law.

But really when you get right down to it, the true victim here is Terri. The most private details of her life have become fodder for public debate and speculation. Jesus Christ people start practicing the moral beliefs you tout and throw about so freely and let her die with whatever dignity and grace she has left.

You know it is said that God is a loving and forgiving entity and that no soul is forsaken. When I look at Terri Schiavo it is sometimes hard to continue to believe that. But when I really stop and think about it, and add up all that I know of her physical condition, perhaps her soul is already in heaven. If her thoughts are gone and her body is merely existing then why is it necessary for her soul to linger within an empty shell? Maybe it's just a romantic way of looking at the situation, but the more I think about it, the more firmly I begin to believe that God has already taken her away. All that remains is for her mortal vessel to finish breaking so that we mortals can release her soul in our own hearts and minds to her creator.

Site Seeing In Washington

Most people think that the end of winter is marked by the emergence of a small mammal from the ground that catches sight of its own shadow. And as colloquial as that is for the rest of the nation, for Washingtonian's there is only one event that marks the final days of winter: The arrival of tourists.

Yes indeed those lovely folk who come from all over, dressed to stand out in a crowd, filling the Metro tunnels and jamming the sidewalks with there large numbers, slow pace, and excessive baggage. And while Washington is known for the visual attractions it offers its visitors, it is those same visitors who give the locals something to look at themselves.

Case in point. I am walking up the broken upward going escalator towards the station exit when what comes barreling down the wrong way, two tourists! And while it is true that at stations where the escalator is under construction you have to share an escalator, this was the only escalator out of service. The down escalator was working just fine. These nimrods were either (a) too stupid to tell the difference or (b) too much in an ignorant hurry to care. There are reasons I am aggressive towards tourists, this is one of them.

And while it is common to see tourists everywhere at this time of the year it is a rare opportunity that you get two really good sightings in the same day. Which brings me to my next observation of the day: Boy Scouts.

Just last month the evil entity known as Girl Scouts (The nemesis of all weight conscious individuals on a diet) descended upon the masses peddling their PMA's (Pastries of Mass Accumulation). And let me just take a moment now to say that those hussies are SHAMELESS! I had to run past their table, avoiding eye contact with their adorable little faces as I made my way into the gym. Did I mention the table was right in front of the gym doors? Yeah...

So anyway, Boy Scouts. This is the time of year that they start touring all over the place and going out on all these camping trips etc. And of course Washington is one of the hot spots on their travel itineraries. And it was one such minivan caravan of Boy Scouts that I spotted as I exited the Metro station tonight. There must have been 20 of the plump little troopers along with their Scout Masters. They even had on little black felt cowboy-style hats with colored bands to identify their rank. I didn't get a look at the plates on their vehicles but based on appearances and accents these gentlemen were from somewhere down south. And as totally catty and mean as this is going to sound, if the chubbiness of these Scouts and their leaders are any indication of the Boy Scouts of America's food plan it's high time they developed a partnership with Weight Watchers. After all Jenny Craig is already profiting as a result if the ruthless tactics of their sister organization.

And last but not least, just to prove that I am equally discriminating about all strangers on the street, I have a Washington fashionista disaster to share. I was standing on the platform waiting for the train when I see that the woman next to me is dressed to kill. Literally. The sight was so frightening it could have caused instantaneous death. Think Delta Burke's hair from Designing Women meets Valley Of The Dolls. Or as the case may be Madame Trousseau's Wax Museum. This poor woman who was easily 65 if she was a day was dressed in a 60's style black fur coat, and sporting hair so black I swear all light passing into it was lost forever. On top of that she had rose pink eye shadow, eyes lined in thick black liner, and skin that was as pale as a fresh corpse. The really sad part is that she was actually a rather attractive woman, and had she been sporting a lighter, more natural hair color, and earthier eye shadow she would have looked years younger and certainly more alive.

But who am I to judge and criticize? After all, to each his own. Though twisting that around, these are my gut reactions and brutally honest opinions. So I guess in the big scheme of things I'm not doing anything wrong by expressing them.

Justice & Tragedy

I am glad to see that there is at least some justice in this world. The courts have ruled against the reinsertion of Terri Schiavo's feeding tube. It won't stop her desperate family from filing appeal after appeal, but at least it will give provide more time in which for her to potentially pass in. Given her condition I think this woman has suffered enough. Her legacy shouldn't be dragged through the court systems and the public eye. People live and they die, if all you nutters out there really care anything about Terri then allow her the freedom to die with dignity and peace.

And yet as the battle rages on for the ending of one life, several more have been taking. I am referring to the recent school shootings in Minnesota that is, like everything else, starting to take a back seat to the Schiavo maelstrom.

While the Schindler family is squawking about keeping a corpse alive, there are other families who have had their children violently taken from them. And at the center of it is a very troubled young man who in the end took his own inner demons with him to the grave as well as the lives of his classmates. It's shameful that we give a person in a coma so much attention while at the same time we neglect an individual who is fully functioning but in desperate need of help.

That kid that committed those shootings didn't just wake up crazy one day. It came from something else, earlier on in the road. Someone wasn't listening, someone wasn't paying attention, and look what happened? He not only plugs himself but 9 other people as well. Did we learn nothing from Columbine?!?

It's time we wake up people and get our priorities straight. People are born and die everyday, and while it is important to fight for justice for those who can't fight for themselves we must not neglect the others who need our help and require attention in more acute ways than maybe we are willing to give. Some tragedies just happen and some are created. You can't stop the ones that happen but damn it you can at least try to prevent the ones that are manufactured.

The Way We Live Now

I am thoroughly outraged and sickened by the media and political circus surrounding the right-to-die case of Terri Schiavo. As all of you are probably aware of by now, this poor woman has been in a vegetative coma for 15 years. Her husband has been trying for seven years to disconnect the feeding tube that keeps her alive, claiming she was against being kept alive through such artificial means, only to be blocked by her family.

What should be a private matter how now become a zoo, with the Evil entity that is the Bush camp and all Republicans have jumped, attempting to pass legislation to keep this woman alive. I am outraged that they are being allowed to carry on this way. This is NOT a government matter, it is one of many cases across the nation about when to let someone who is being kept alive through artificial means die. Is this what our world is turning to? Is this how we want to live our lives?

I am so mad I could scream. This is just plain WRONG. Not only for her poor husband who is obviously trying to do the right thing, but also for all Americans. The government should not be allowed to jump into our private lives for political gain, especially when prompted by the religious right.

Terri Schiavo's family should be ashamed of themselves. The woman they all knew and loved is no longer there, just her shell being kept alive through tubes and machines. She will never be the same, and if they were such good Christians as they claim to be then they would let her go be with her/their God. No, instead the Schindler family has chosen to allow their own grief and selfishness blind them to what is best for their daughter. They can't bring themselves to accept that she is gone, that she is as good as dead. They can't bring themselves to let her go. They are trying to keep her alive not for her sake but for their own.

The battle is on, as the feeding tube was finally disconnected last Friday and the matter is being battled out in court to have it reinserted. Doctors say that she could live up to two weeks without it. I am hoping for her sake that she passes quickly. It has been long enough. Terri Schiavo isn't living, she is existing. And there is a big difference between the two. Anyone with even an ounce of compassion could se that and know that while not the easiest choice to make, the right choice is to euthanize her. If you'd do it for a sick pet that has no hope of recovery why not do it for a sick human? It is the same principle, as far as I am concerned.

Mystery of Coincidence

I took Lila back to Congressional Cemetery today to play. I was a little nervous that we may run into more nut cases but we didn't. She had a lot of fun playing with all the other dogs and was a very tired little girl by the time we left.

And while the visit went off without incident it was not altogether uneventful. For while Lila was playing I stumbled upon something I had never noticed before. Within the cemetery there are at least two graves that hold the remains of Gay vets, one of whom is quite well know.

The first one I spotted was for a WWII vet who had a wonderful message (which I can't recall now) inscribed on his headstone along with an upside down triangle. The other grave is huge, consisting of both a double headstone and stone slab and caused a lot of controversy when it was erected. The man who is buried there is Leonard P. Matlovich, and he served in Vietnam. He would have been buried in Arlington National Cemetery but was bared from being buried there because it was discovered he was Gay. On one side of his double headstone he had inscribed, "When I was in the military they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one." Those words are both humorous and all too tragically true.

I first read about his grave in an article in the Washington Blade about a movement that is underway in DC to erect a memorial for Gay and Lesbian vets. They had a picture of his tombstone in the article but I did not register where we was buried, until today.

I remember how touched I was when I read that article in the Blade about Mr. Matlovich and the vet memorial. It inspired me to start write a song about the sacrifices and discrimination that Gays and Lesbians in the military face. Unfortunately I never finished the song. I think it is time that I did, or at the very least begin working on it again. Perhaps that is what I was supposed to learn from my visit.

As cliché as it sounds, when I saw the tombstones it was as if I was the only one standing there. The world took on a surrealistic quality for a moment. Maybe it was the discovery itself or maybe it was the reality that it touches upon. The relevance to my own life as a Gay man. While I will never be in the service (not by my own choice anyway) I still face the same persecutions and prejudices from the ignorant members of society.

No man is an island and no life is never left untouched by the evils of society. I don't believe in coincidences per se. But I do believe everything happens for a reason. Perhaps there is even more I am to gain from this experience than just a song. I wonder though, exactly what the lesson is that I am supposed to learn?

Melodies of My Memories

Music is a wonderful and powerful emotional vehicle. It can make you laugh, cry, dance, rejoice, grieve, etc. Music is perhaps one of the most pure and universal languages next to love. It knows no boundaries and is as diverse as the people who listen to it.

But music is also closely linked to memory. There are so many songs that remind of times gone by, be they happy or sad, and the people that have come and gone in our lives during those periods. Music can bring them all back again in our minds, along with the memories...

Case in point, tonight I was listening to Sarah McLachlan's album Surfacing while doing some updates to the site. It has been years since I have listened to this CD and I had forgotten just how beautifully haunting and timeless it is. But more so, it brought back memories of my best friend from High School, Megan.

Megan and I were inseparable. We shared everything from philosophies, to passions, to dreams of creative freedom and success. My friendship with her was one of the happiest times of my life. Even when things were rough, we had each other.

Sarah McLachlan was one of the artists we mutually loved, and Surfacing was the album that seemed to encompass the legacy of our deepest joys and pains. So listening to it again after all of this time there were emotions released that have been silently encapsulated for a long time. Out of sight and out of mind.

I will not go into detail, it is not necessary, but the end of my friendship with Megan was long, volatile, bitter, and painful. We both had problems we were dealing with at the time, both in our lives and with each other. Our friendship twisted in upon itself and strangled what remained of our love for each other. In the end we parted ways without really saying goodbye. On the one hand it felt unfinished yet on the other it seemed very apropos. We had become so close over the years that certain things didn't need to be said. Looking back, I guess our last goodbye was one of them.

I have no more bitterness left in me about it. No more anger to vent, no more tears to shed. It is what it is. Life moves like the tides to the shore, always going forward, only drawing back upon itself briefly in preparation of the next wave. Megan and I had a wonderful relationship for the most part, and neither time nor its unpleasant end can ever take that away. It was what it was, and it ended the way it ended.

Perhaps my not listening to this CD for so long was more subconsciously deliberate than simply forgetful. That period of my life was very painful and after a while it was necessary to block it out completely in order to heal and move on. I have long since made peace with all that happened, but every now and again I drift back in my mind to those carefree days that while dramatic were so very innocent. We all had hopes and dreams. We all had plans for our futures. In the aftermath some came true, though most not as we had expected, some became other things entirely, and others simply died. We've all traveled roads we never thought we would, many of which we never knew existed. And through the dark, twisted jungles surrounding those paths we have come to the place we are today. The journey has helped forge us into who we are. I have no regrets.

Be it destiny or choice, this is where we are all meant to be at this very moment. There are lessons still to be learned and treasures still left buried in the tombs of the past. There was a time I would have looked back and become sad or even cried. Now, I look back and I feel a sense of peace and I smile. You can't go back again but you don't have to grieve forever either. There is joy and beauty to be found even in sadness. You just have to open your heart and mind to it in order to find it.

Adventures In Lila Sitting

I took Lila back to Congressional cemetery today so she could run wild and wear her little self out. She loves going there and playing with all the other dogs, and I enjoy taking her there. There is something calm, and enchanted about that cemetery. I can't say that about every cemetery I've ever been in, but that one definitely has a special quality about it.

So we're there and she's running around off leash, which is OK because the place is fenced in. Well all of a sudden she starts barking at this woman who is on the backside of the cemetery, at the bottom of a hill. Mind you Lila is about 80 feet away from this woman on the top of the hill and starts to run in circles barking. This lady panics and starts running from the headstone she was standing at back to the car she and her husband came in.

I of course had immediately started calling Lila back but she thought it was some kind of game and continued to run around barking, though she never actually went near this women. Well the husband gets out of the car and starts yelling, "get your damn dog!" I became very flushed with irritation, which was only made worse when he continued to scream at me from afar while I was obviously trying to get Lila back. I was practically stumbling down the hill, while calling to her, trying to get her back.

I finally get a hold of her, but this isn't enough for this guy because then he then starts going off about me being there with a dog off leash and then has the audacity to tell me that this is "not a dog sanctuary." Based on his accent by the way, I placed him from the lower industrial side of Baltimore but I'm not totally sure about that. He was a hick none-the-less and clearly an uninformed one because that cemetery is supported through association fees that the dog owners pay. The fees are high, but for that price you are allowed to bring your pet there and let them run around off leash provided you don't let them bite anyone and you pick up after them.

So he's screaming and I begin yelling back at him telling him that we have paid our dues and have a right to be there. He tells me that is bullshit so I decide to just take Lila and leave. I am furious and not about to let this go. I go to the custodian's house, which is at the entrance of the cemetery, and tell him what is going on. He confirms what I attempted to tell this man and asks me to point this gentleman out so that he can resolve the matter.

We didn't have to wait long because this hillbilly and his moll come rolling up the driveway in their red hatchback and I immediately pointed them out to the custodian as the lunatics in question. I'm serious, I was very worried this man was going to get violent he was that crazed when he was yelling and his getting out of the car and making movements like he was going to come over to me didn't help.

So the custodian stops them and begins to talk reason to this man. Or attempts to anyway. The guy is at first aggressive and then starts playing up the calm polite routine. He seems all pleased that the custodian is talking the matter over with him, feeling that he will be vindicated. Boy was he surprised when he was informed that in fact I was the correct party and had every right to be there. In fact, the custodian even said that I hadn't done a thing wrong.

I just stood by and held Lila. She was very agitated but not sure what was going on. Meanwhile the custodian straightened things out with the hillbilly holler. The guy didn't seem to pleased that I was not some egregious perpetrator as he had thought and the custodian was very calm and explained to him the circumstances of the cemetery and the dog owners, and told him that there are no dogs allowed on holidays and that if the two of them would even like a custodian to accompany them to the graveside the next time they come that it could be arranged.

With the situation diffused, this odd couple drove off and I had a brief chat with the custodian in which I thanked him for his handling of the situation. After that Lila and I drove back to the apartment and then we walked up the street for lunch at an outdoor café. I was still rather upset. That man had raised my blood pressure like you wouldn't believe. But it all ended well, so I can't complain too much. But that dude really upset me. Ah, well, all's well that ends well right? It was certainly an eventful day!

Buck The System, Fuck The Filter

I had a very amusing chat with John today followed by a hilarious e-mail. Apparently he had been trying to send me e-mails since yesterday and none of them were getting through. He has been in a foul mood the past few days because of craziness at work and an upcoming business trip. Mind you, this is a man who can rant and rave just as much as myself and we both share a mutual love of the word "fuck." We throw it around freely when really irritated or pissed off. But if you are a regular reader of this blog then you already knew that about me.

Anyway, he called me this afternoon to discuss the contents of the missed e-mails. As it turns out in his heightened state of annoyance he actually used the word fuck, and a few other expletives, in his e-mails to me. I laughed at this, especially when he was genuinely surprised that they got filtered. He knew some companies had e-mail filters that would block vulgarity but he didn't think many used them. As he put it, "it's perfectly good Anglo-Saxon English, how dare they block it!" He is so silly sometimes.

Anyway, he did resend the information in his previous e-mails to me in a "cleaned up" version. A "cleaned up" version as only John could clean it! I immediately started laughing out loud as soon as I opened it. I have to hand it to him, he is a genius. A man after my own heart. Where there is a will there is most certainly a way!

The following is the e-mail he sent to me, which has been edited down for content. the important content. Enjoy!

Dear Mike,

So lovely to hear from you. How have you been? I have beFen very busy and running around like a chicken (the animal kind) without a head.

(...)

So, to answer all your various emails tUhat were stripped clean (Oh dear, I do hope stripped won't cause a problem), here’s a resend of the pertinent information:

(...)

Tell the receptiConist that I have referred you.

Assuming this afternoon’s meeting is not a lengthy event, New CarrKollton at 7 pm? That’s the Orange Line :-) Does that work.

J

Czech-Mate

I am absolutely convinced now that we live in a world gone mad. This morning while scanning the headlines I saw an article about Bobby Fischer getting into a scuffle with Japanese detention officers over a hardboiled egg.

I'm sure you're asking yourself, "Who the Hell is Bobby Fischer and why is this important?" Well, Bobby Fischer is a 62 year old man who is/was the "World's Greatest Chess Player" and apparently helped to revolutionize the game in the modern era. Anyway, Mr. Fischer is being held in a Japanese immigration detention center for some reason or other and got into a scuffle with guards because he wanted another hard boiled egg at breakfast (so scandalous!). He is facing deportation back to the US, even though Iceland is trying to get him clear passage to their country.

And here's where it gets interesting, it seems that back in the day in 1992 Mr. Fischer committed the egregious sin of playing Chess in Yugoslavia (gasp!). Apparently this violated some UN sanction and now he is a wanted man. Get this, if he is deported back to the states he faces ten years in prison and a $250,000 fine.

Give me a fucking break people! Ten years in prison for playing chess!?! What is this Nazi Germany? For crying out loud he is an eccentric old man who has a passion, and the mental prowess, for chess NOT some bomb making terrorists or communist leader. Is this really what our world has come to? Everyone preaches about global peace and harmony and yet they want to imprison innocent people who attempt to bring people together through safe, non-threatening activities such as chess.

I am not a chess fan, I barely am able to play the game myself. I didn't even know who this man was until I read this article. But I am a sensible person with a sound mind and this man is not a criminal. Nobody but the UN's ego was hurt by his playing chess in Yugoslavia and it is ridiculous that they would even waste time, resources, and our money on pursuing this. Let's get real people, he is a chess player, not a nuclear terrorist. It was thirteen years ago, let it go. There are REAL criminals out there, like pedophiles, who have fled to other countries to escape prosecution and extradition. Go after them and leave harmless, belligerent eccentrics alone to amuse themselves.

With these kinds of policies and actions is it any wonder our world is tearing apart at the seams? The UN should be praising Bobby Fischer for helping to bring global communities together, especially during that turbulent time in history, not punishing him. He has committed no crime, only an act of defiance against a system that is behaving ludicrously. The United Nations stands for the unification of all nations. It is not some private club whose mission is to dictate to people how they should live their lives. If Bobby Fischer were selling arms or stolen intelligence then it would be justifiable to go after him. He played a game of chess. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Quit acting like the inbred Bush administration and get your priorities straight. Your stupidity, not Mr. Fischer's endgame, is what will put us all in jeopardy.

Tiptoe Through The Tombstones

This afternoon I took Lila over to the Historic Congressional Cemetery to run around and play. Yes, I took her to a cemetery to play. Don't give me that look, it's perfectly acceptable.

The Congressional Cemetery is very old and very large and in order to keep it up and running the association that runs it offers it for the use of pet owners for a fee. The money helps to keep the place in order and because it is massive and fenced in the dogs can run around and play freely. Such space is almost impossible to find in the city. Apparently this is becoming a bigger and bigger trend in areas with a high development where there aren't any open green spaces for owners to take their pets. I think it is a brilliant idea.

I imagine some people would have issue with this, especially since the dogs tend to pee on the headstones, but really it is a very good concept. A cemetery is usually regarded as a somber place of death. By allowing it to be used for animals it brings a sense of life to the place and if you think about it how many gravesides aren't visited? A lot. If you are the type who puts a lot of stock in visiting the dead then this answers that need. I think most people who have come and gone would rather the resting place of their remains be filled with life and joy rather than death and sadness.

If I were going to go the burial route then I would want my remains laid in a cemetery like Congressional that caters to the animals. After all when we die what is left behind is a shell. We can't give anything to the world after we have die other than the works and memories we have left behind. If we allow our gravesides to be used for the good of others, especially animals, then even in death we continue to give back to our communities. Besides, even if you disallow domestic animals to run free in the cemeteries it won't stop wild animals, and believe me squirrels will and DO pee on headstones!

Hello, Gorgeous!

Today was the first day for a new director we just hired. OMG! I took one look at him and had to bite my tongue from repeating Streisand's 1969 Oscar speech of "Hello, Gorgeous!" OK, maybe not gorgeous but very, very cute! He's about 5'10", I'm guessing around 38, slim but muscular, is balding but keeps his hair buzzed very short and has a matching short buzzed beard, a great smile, and best of all is Gay!

He's just my type in terms of beddableness. Too bad he works here full time (office dalliances are a no-no in my book unless it's a part timer or intern) and given the fact he's an attractive, Gay, twink-like man living in DC chances are probably he is partnered (despite the lack of a ring). *Sigh*

But still it makes for nice eye candy though this may prove to be a distraction. And yes, I know what many of you are probably saying, "But you have a boyfriend, how can you be talking about another man this way!?!" Let it be said here and now that Gay relationships are almost always complicated and seldom singularly defined. Just because I am dating a man I love very much doesn't mean that I am not entitled to admire what's around me. John isn't the jealous type who gets hung up on that sort of thing and neither am I. Hell we both check out other men together! And as for having a fling, my relationship is still open and those sorts of things mean nothing to me. To quote Tennessee Williams from Night of The Iguana, "Even I know the difference between loving someone and going to bed with 'em." I am still free to indulge my passions and curiosities, but where it really counts my heart belongs to one man, and that is John. He has everything I have to offer. Anyone can lie down with a shell, only a truly special and worthy person can have the whole.

Besides, nothing will happen with my new coworker. The aforementioned reasons aside, I can tell that sort of thing almost off the bat. The potential sexual chemistry is there but the reality of being is not. No, he is only office eye candy and I am content to leave it at that. That being said I have work to get back to...

Ideology of Insanity

OK, kiddies, Uncle Mike is about to unleash some very irreverent, anti-organized-religion fervor. For the religiously sensitive among you (especially the Catholics in the audience) I suggest you stop reading now. This is going to be highly offensive and not pretty, so don't say I didn't warn you.

Let's talk John Paul. As in Pope John Paul II and his latest Catholic coffee table reading, Memory And Identity. Let me just start with the first of many offensive comments by pointing out the humor factor in the title of this tome. Certainly Pope John Paul II has identity. He is after all the head of one of the largest religious organizations in the world. As for the memory, well given his current state-of-being one wonders if there is any cognizant memory left? Let's face facts people, he looked like an embalmed puppet on a stick at his last press conference. Can we really trust the "memories" that emanate from this fragile, shell of a man? I would find a recollection of what he did two hours ago more reliable than one of what he did 20 years ago, especially when spread over the course of 227 pages.

But my purpose in writing this piece is not to speculate on possible situations but to comment on real events that have ensued since the release of this work. This new book just hit stores in Italy last night and is due to be translated into 11 languages for world consumption. After less than 24 hours after its release though its contents have caused much controversy and criticism. The two main points of contention are the staples of religious debate: Abortion and Gay marriage.

According to ol' JP II, abortion is tantamount to the extermination of the Jews during the Holocaust. I'm sorry, repeat that one again? Something must be wrong because I don't understand. Yes, that's it. I must be confused because I, and a huge chunk of the world apparently, somehow fail to see the parallels between terminating a collection of cells regardless of racial identity that haven't even been born yet, and the systematic eradication of an entire racial and religious group of people, of all ages, who had already been born and were experiencing life, through torture and murder. All the while this same group was well aware of what was happening to them every step of the way, where as the collection of cells has only enough cognitive presence to differentiate between changes in environment but not process those changes on a higher level. i.e. know what those changes actually are and what that means to them. Collections of cells merely respond to stimulus. Fully developed human beings intellectually, and emotionally understand the stimulus. But how silly of us all to not see the connection between the two.

Honestly Pontiff, if that isn't an apples and oranges comparison then I have certainly never seen one. Mass genocide of fully developed human beings and the indiscriminate medical termination of a collection of cells are not one in the same. And even if that is not what you mean, which I highly doubt, to make a statement that would even bring those two concepts together in a conjoined manner is outrageous. Me thinks the weight of that oversized pillbox you've been sporting on your head for the past three decades has crushed some integral portion of your cerebral cortex that controls logical reasoning.

Then there is the subject of Gay marriage. Now this is nothing new, the Church and every other overzealous religious group has been touting the evils of Homosexuals for eons. I would have been surprised if the Pope hadn't written a book damning anything Homosexual. But even I have my limits when it comes to accepting the ignorant blatherings of bigots. According to the Papal Head Gay marriage is, "a new ideology of evil, perhaps more insidious and hidden, which attempts to pit human rights against the family and against man." Nice, real nice. This from a man who is the head of an organization that is rife with pedophiles that rape the innocents in their care and then attempts to cover it up. And before someone attempts to misquote me, let me just say that yes the Papacy has declared pedophiliac priests an abomination but only AFTER the "sins of these fathers" have been undeniably revealed and made public.

In the spirit of being outspoken and irrepressible I say we as a community get together and display our new indemnation proudly. I propose for those us who are Gay and Lesbian that we get large buttons that say "Proud Member Of The Ideology Of Evil." We can even have various member levels. I know I am definitely a Platinum Member. As for our Heterosexual supporters I say we give them a button too that says, "Proud Supporter Of The Ideology Of Evil." And in keeping with good will I don't see why they too shouldn't have Standard, Gold, or Platinum levels of sponsorship.

But that little bit of fun aside there is still more to address. It appears that the Pope just had to indulge the curious, reality TV minded masses with the juicy details of the 1981 assassination attempt on his life. It seems to me that in the 23 years since this event he has denied a curious public much in the way of details. And yet in this new book, which is more than likely his last, he caves to the societal pressure to disclose. Which by the way is something he himself has chided democratic institutions for doing, caving to societal pressure that is.

For those of you getting excited about gory details of blood and gunshot wounds you'll be very disappointed. In reading the selected excerpts from his account there is nothing there that tells the reader anything more than what they would derive out of any other shooting victims account. He claims to have been scared and in a lot of pain but confident that he would be OK. Except for the confidence part, most ANYBODY would be scared and in a lot of pain if they were shot by an assassin. The Pope went on to say that he believed it was not an isolated incident and that it was part of an intricate plot and investment on his life. Well no shit Sherlock, you're one of the #1 religious leaders in the world, and you have a tendency to piss a lot of groups off with your actions, is it surprising people are plotting assassination attempts against you?!

When you consider it all in a grand spectrum it seems to me that the Pope is not so much a Pontiff as he is a pompous pontificator who is so crippled by his own dementia that he dares to think that because he is the leader of a large religious group that he is any closer to God than a homeless person in the street. He does not head a religious hierarchy, but an organized hypocrisy whose own notions of right and wrong are as flexible as the immediate situation demands.

I don't care if people call me irreverent or even blasphemous. No human being, regardless of their world status, is holier or more sanctified than another. The Pope is a human being the same as you and I. What makes the difference is the amount of power and celebrity we bestow upon him. He lives in a private city and is not subject to the laws of any nation. He and the position he holds are nothing more than one of idolatry and archaic nostalgia. We as a society and as human beings have turned him into a demigod, one step away from God's own right side. I'm sorry but I refuse to acknowledge an institutionally appointed figure as any more an authority on "God's will" than anyone else. I will not stand in a projected untouchable shadow and remain silent. He is very old, and very clearly on the edge in more than one-way. In my unhumble opinion I think he is one cracked communion jar that has fallen off the altar one too many times and been hastily patched back together again.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion but to enforce ones opinions on people as dogma is self-indulgence of the worse kind. The basic foundation of all Christian teachings, Hell MOST religious teachings, is common respect, love, and acceptance of all people. But time and time again organized religions, especially the large ones, over step their own moral teachings and attempt to rule society as two-faced dictators.

I would be disingenuous if I claimed that the Pope's Holocaust comparison is what fired me up the most to my present state. It angered me greatly but I was more offended by his comments about Gay marriage being an "ideology of evil." As if I, and every other Homosexual in the world who just want the same equality our heterosexual counterparts have, are Satan's Dolls. Ignorant, hateful statements like that are what help to fuel the fire of intolerance in his very followers who then turn violent against the Homosexual community and in many cases perpetrate hate crimes such as murder. And doesn't the Bible tell us that murder is a sin? I would think that by now a man of 84 years of age with the influence that he has would have enough sense to realize that his statements have the power to affect millions of peoples lives in very uncontrollable ways. If he does realize this and makes these statements anyway then he is nothing better than a crazed fanatic. If he does not realize by now the consequences of his actions then he is clearly not of a sound mind to be leading a world organization that attempts to purport the concept of peace, love, and acceptance. Words such as those do not promote peace, love or acceptance. Either way you look at it the Church and the Pope, in and of themselves, are an ideology of insanity.

Undetectable Only From The Outside

This morning I went to the orthodontist and was fitted with my long awaited Invisalign braces. I was told before coming in that they would be mounting some brackets in my teeth to help keep the plastic caps on. I was prepared for everything and just a little nervous when I got there. After all I will have to live with these things for the next 13-18 months!

They mounted brackets on my teeth, which are white and generally blend in. I had thought these brackets would be on the backside of my teeth but apparently what they meant when they said "back of your teeth" they meant towards the back of my mouth but on the front side of the teeth. Ah, well, no big deal.

I was not however prepared for the actual braces. I figured there would not be a problem but I was wrong. They are generally invisible when looked at from the outside but I am constantly aware of their TIGHT, gripping presence in my mouth, squeezing my teeth and gums, forcing the teeth on the top-right to begin their outward rotation. They are not painful per se but very annoying because I constantly feel them and they do make my teeth and gums ache after a few hours. And it does hurt a little when I take them out because they pinch as they pop off (they don't slide out easily) causing a very painful release of pressure on my teeth and gums. Removing them is also not graceful and often times embarrassingly difficult. I had a terrible time trying to get them out while at the orthodontist's office and that was very stressful and annoying. So really they are undetectable only from the outside. And even then you can see them if you are standing really close and looking at my teeth.

I can't chew in them hence the primary need to remove them. After meals, or consuming liquids other than water, I have to brush my teeth because anything left on my teeth will become trapped by the aligners when I put them back on which in turn will cause damage, such as decay, to my teeth.

Every 2-3 weeks I will need to switch to the next set of braces. As my teeth begin to shift, the new braces will accommodate the changes and place additional pressure on the teeth, which will cause them to further shift outwards.

I have come to realize just how active one's mouth is in the course of the average day. It is not something you consider until you have to pay attention to your mouth on a constant basis. Because of the chewing restriction, if I want to have a piece of candy or chew gum I have to take them out. The longer they stay in my mouth the better so removal of the aligners has to be restricted to a necessary basis only. This is a nuisance and puts me off the concept of eating altogether, though at the same time the stress makes me crave food even more. The hassle factor so far prevents me from acting on my cravings. Let's hope this helps me to avoid unnecessary calorie intake.

Bottom line this is not for the rest of my life, just the next year and a half of it. I know this proceedure is necessary and for my own good, and that I will benefit in the long run. But I am also not the most patient of people and dislike inconvenience. I know I will settle into this and it won't be as much of an issue, but it is going to be a very interesting experience from here out.

Lovers Holiday

Last night's Valentine's Day dinner was in a word, WONDERFUL! The meal was excellent, the company was even better, and the whole experience was very romantic.

John cooked me a three-course meal, consisting of shrimp cocktail, followed by salad, then the main course of steak with steamed broccoli and potatoes, finished off by fresh strawberries and chocolate ice cream. He even gave me three dark red roses, which he had already in a vase sitting on the table when I came in to sit down. Can we say keeper? Seriously though, I had one of the best evenings of my life, it was simple, elegant, but very memorable.

It also wasn't without its share of amusing events either. John was preparing two small-medium sized baked potatoes, one for himself and one for me. My potato decided half way through cooking that it wanted to explode and proceeded to do just that. All that was left was the empty skin dangling from the backing rack and a pile of potato chunks on the bottom of the oven. thank God he had put down a pan on the lower rack, or else the potato pieces would have hit the element and caught fire. We have no idea why it exploded. The skewered both of them with a fork before baking them. Very strange but amusing to watch.

But even funnier is what happened after the main course at dinner. We had been taking 10-15 minute breaks between courses to allow ourselves to digest and settle before the next dish. We were too full after the main course for the strawberries and ice cream, so we decided to sit in one of the big easy chairs and relax for a bit and talk.

While we were sitting there cuddling, we dozed off. In fact we fell into very deep sleep, and woke up two hours later sometime past midnight exhausted and embarrassed. So much for the "perfect end to the perfect romantic evening." Tired and groggy we made sure everything was turned off and the biggest of the plates were in the sink and proceeded up to bed and slept until the alarm went off.

It was quite funny. Seems we're are becoming like an old married couple! LOL It was still lovely though and just some comfortable. No expectation, and while a little embarrassing because we both fell asleep, neither one of us was offended or bothered by it. That is perhaps one the greatest aspects of our relationship that I cherish, the mutual comfort level. There is no need or pressure to put on airs or be impressive. We are who we are and it is wonderful.

All in all, this Valentine's was one o the best ever. We do similar sorts of dinners a lot in our daily interactions but there is something more special and magical about a day or night that is specifically set aside and intended for romance. I don't get too hung up about Valentine's Day and it isn't a necessity in my life. But it is a beautiful thought and gesture, and for that I am happy about it.

Hostess Whore

It is official, after 10+ years of avoiding fate and remaining pure I have at last succumbed to sin and temptation. yes, this morning when I entered the kitchen at work I came face to plastic with not one, but TWO boxes of Twinkies!

I have not consumed one of these sickeningly sweet, cream filled, "pastries" (if they can be called that) in over a decade. I have been tempted many times by the site of them in the grocery store, but they were always sealed within a box and I always managed to resist the urge to give in and buy some. Many other delectable deserts I have succumbed over the years, but not Twinkies. I haven't eaten them since I was a kid.

But no, I saw the OPEN boxes there on the table and it was too much. The site of them, glowing radioactively yellow in their individual cellophane packages was too much to be resisted. I took one and I ate it, and it was good. All those warm, yummy child hood memories came flooding back. The first Twinkie was good, even though it was sin. The next three were just gluttony and bad, very bad. In fact I remember now how disgusting Twinkies taste after you have had one. The first one is always alright but the second and third start making you feel sick to your stomach and leave this gross taste in your mouth after a while. By Twinkie number four you just want to hurl.

Daphne has dubbed me a Hostess Whore. It's true, I have a weakness for their desserts. Several months ago I bought a box of their cream filled brownies and devoured it in a week. My digestive track was still recovering a week later. *Sigh* I will pay the same price from the Twinkies. Come tomorrow I will be more bloated than a beached whale. Life is short i guess, as is my ability to stick to healthy eating...

I guess the only pseudo-justification is that it is Valentine's Day. But John is cooking me dinner tonight (no doubt something gourmet and rich) so isn't that enough indulgence for one day? For once in my life I am hoping that I am not about to be gifted with chocolate. He has heard my endless rants about my fluctuating (especially recently) weight so hopefully he abstained from buying me any as a Valentine's present. Quite frankly I don't care if he gets me anything or not. Dinner is enough of a gift. It is the thought and love that goes into it that counts. Though my mother did mention in a very excited way to me the other week that maybe John would propose to me on Valentine's Day. I gave a half exasperated bail stare and just aid, "I don't think so. Trust me, it's not headed there just yet." She looked a little crushed but still hopeful...

I am very much looking forward to tonight's dinner. It has been over three weeks since we have seen each other and it will be nice to have a nice romantic meal together at his place, just the two of us. The perfect way to unwind after a long day.

Ashen Faces In the Year of the Cock

Today is Ash Wednesday. It is also the first day of the Chinese New Year. Ironic how two religious and cultural events so polarly different can occur on the same day. Goes to show you how big and diverse our world is and that while we each have our own traditions that we follow, that at the same time our own special occasions are occurring so are someone else's.

And as with anything there are always things to derive good humor from. For instance, this year is the Year of The Cock, or "Rooster" if you go by the more Westernized translation. Americans don't feel comfortable using the word cock anymore because of its alternate, phallic meaning. I say, "use cock more often." Even funnier is that I was born in the Year of The Cock. Talk about a big event!

And speaking of the Chinese Zodiac I looked up mine and John's. He was born in the Year of the Dog. It's funny how in both the Chinese and Western Zodiacs we are not compatible but in reality you won't find two people better suited for each other. Life is strange isn't it?

Even funnier is the description I found for people born in the Year Of The Dog:

People born in the Year of the Dog possess the best traits of human nature. They have a deep sense of loyalty, are honest, and inspire other people's confidence because they know how to keep secrets. But Dog People are somewhat selfish, terribly stubborn, and eccentric. They care little for wealth, yet somehow always seem to have money. They can be cold emotionally and sometimes distant at parties. They can find fault with many things and are noted for their sharp tongues. Dog people make good leaders. They are compatible with those born in the Years of the Horse, Tiger, and Rabbit.

If that isn't the God's honest truth I don't know what is. Especially the eccentric and stubborn part. But I love him anyway, and his stubbornness and eccentricity actually make him more endearing.

Mine wasn't too far off either:

People born in the Year of the Cock are deep thinkers, capable, and talented. They like to be busy and are devoted beyond their capabilities and are deeply disappointed if they fail. People born in the Cock Year are often a bit eccentric, and often have rather difficult relationship with others. They always think they are right and usually are! They frequently are loners and though they give the outward impression of being adventurous, they are timid. Cock people's emotions like their fortunes, swing very high to very low. They can be selfish and too outspoken, but are always interesting and can be extremely brave. They are most compatible with Ox, Snake, and Dragon.

Though I am not exactly timid at heart. Just in certain situations and settings. But the eccentricity and having difficult relationships with people is dead on. As is the part about the very high and low emotions. Though something this description omitted that I have seen in others is that Cocks are also very vain and like to strut about. That's me. In fact my ego and vanity are better reflected in the Western Zodiac. According to the Western Zodiac I am born under the sign of Leo, the strong, proud, and very vain lion. Hmmm if I add these two concepts together does that me an overbearing dick?

And now for the other half of today's topic. For those of you who are sensitive to the subjects of religion you may want to stop reading here. I'm not known for my reverence and who knows, you may even get struck down for indulging my catty quips by reading them. So without further ado, let's see how fast I can get struck down.

So, Ash Wednesday. I remember this observance from my days in Catholic High School. In fact, up until this afternoon when John (who is Lutheran) informed me otherwise, I believed it only to be a Catholic thing. Apparently so does the news because they were also going on this morning about how the Roman Catholics started the practice. It is in truth a Christian observance, which means most if not all Christian religions celebrate it.

But I digress... When I exited the Metro station this morning I was heralded with the news of what day it was by the sight of many people with the tell tale ash marks on their foreheads. I understand the importance and significance of this event, but I don't understand why it is considered necessary to wear the ashes all day long outside of the church service. Even my mother, who was raised as a strict Catholic, never understood why people insisted on sporting the ashes outside of church. Let's face it, the ashes really have the most symbolic meaning inside the church and during the service and outside look as if you've fallen face down in the mud and not realized your face is dirty. At least with a yomikah or a turban it is relatively stylish and can be incorporated into one's outfit in a manner that compliments and blends in. I see the ashes and I see little smudged, black bulls eyes on people's foreheads ("X" Marks the spot ) that just scream, "Ooh, ooh, pick on me! I'm a Christian!"

I have nothing against organized religion folks but moderation in everything is a good thing. Christians, especially overly fundamental ones, constantly complain about being persecuted for their beliefs yet they do things like walking around with big ash marks on their foreheads, which only attract attention. And for those who are completely anti-religious or anti-Christian it only identifies you to them and thus makes you a target for such disparaging remarks. But what do I know? I'm just an angry, irreverent, Gay man who has lived his whole life under the strain of persecution and prejudice. What could I possibly know about reducing unwanted negative attention?

And yes, I do realize the counter argument is "Well you are openly Gay and don't hide it so why should we hide our faith?" My counter to that is "Don't stand over the stove if you can't take the heat." I am an object for criticism and ridicule by my choice to be open about my sexuality but I don't sit around bitching about it. I know that with my choice comes a consequence. I have learned to live with ill treatment and stand up for myself when necessary. I have encountered few practicing Christians that do the same. Most that I have encountered get huffy and defensive and then whine about being ridiculed and laughed at.

No wonder they hated me in Catholic school. I was and still am quite the outspoken bitch. Hey I went for the education not for the spiritual training. I was once told by an elderly religion teacher I had that I was going to Hell because I didn't follow organized religion. I told him that if that were the case I was sure I would meet him on the other side. I smiled and walked away. He gave me a perpetual D for the rest of the year.

What an amusingly strange day it has been. With any luck the rest of the week will be just as enjoyable. And of course Valentine's Day is coming up on Monday. I am very excited. For once I will actually have a boyfriend to share it with.

Day of the Evil Eye

Well it would appear that the "Evil Eye" was upon me today, both figuratively and literally. It all started this morning when I was late catching my bus and had to wait for the next one. While I was standing at the stop this very old woman in an oversized old car drives by and gives me the most hateful scowl. I don't know why but she just did. I thought nothing more of it until a few minutes later ANOTHER old lady in a similar car drove by and gave me just as sour and hateful a look as the first! I thought, "What the fuck?!" I knew then it couldn't be a good sign for the events of today.

And I wasn't too wrong about that either. Last week this guy sent me an e-mail, which was in response to my seldom used or updated online personal. Turns out he works in my building on the 8th floor and wanted to get together and do coffee. Was basically looking to hook up. I always screen people first so I agreed to do coffee. Well turns out not only was I not interested in him in any way, shape, or form but the bastard is MARRIED TO A WOMAN!!! But he's not Gay, just somewhere in between. Yeah, on the down low! I told him that I couldn't go along with that. I believe in the sacredness of a marital or deep vow of commitment. He said that was very honest and respectful of me, then turns around and asks if there is any possibility of an exception to the rule. I icily told him no and that we really didn't have anymore to discuss.

We parted ways and that was that. I have never run into this man in the lobby or elevators and I hope I never do. His poor wife, married to a slimebag AND being cheated on. I didn't ask if he has kids. I sure hope not. It's ironic because before we met I had a very strange feeling he was "straight" and married. The fucker even had his wedding band on when he met me! It did give me a perfect out though so I am happy. I hate telling people that I don't make a connection with that I don't feel a connection with them and that it isn't going anywhere. They always come to the table with so much expectation. *Sigh*

You know despite my relationship status with John I am still continuing to meet men. After all he and I have both agreed we are not at the point of moving to the next step but I really wonder. Lately I have become increasingly more tired with these extra encounters and more often than not am not satisfied. Hmmm perhaps my life is approaching a state of monogamous, committed bliss sooner than I expected. My biggest concern right now is not settling down too soon, though really I am at the point where settling down wouldn't be an un-welcomed event...

And last but not least I spoke with my friend today regarding her rebounding love life. She broached the subject, not I and I said as little as possible. She is in quite a lot of pain and I am in a lot of pain just watching all of this. There is nothing I can do but hang around and wait and that is very painful. I want to make her struggle disappear but she has to make her own decisions and find what makes her happy. *Sigh*

I did discern from her that her she is fully aware of the white knight scenario that is potentially being created between her and this new man. She says she is proceeding with caution and trying to be wary of not falling into that trap. I think she is already in that trap and to try and walk a fine line between friendship and white knight rescue with a man you have slept with and are interested in is foolish folly. But she must make her own way. I just pray this doesn't rip out friendship apart. I had another friend about 5 years ago who went through an almost identical situation and our friendship ended as a result of it. Though in that case the person I was dealing with was clinically diagnosed as borderline paranoid schizophrenic so there is some accounting for the dissolution. Our friendship was on the rocks before she went off the deep end so it only stood to reason that it would be the final straw. In this situation I hope it does not end that way.

I am endeavoring though not to write anymore on this topic. I have given far too much energy to it and unless something is seriously bothering me it need not be written about further.

Go Crazy Baby

Well my friend has gone in 24 hours from reaching to believing. She confirmed to me this morning that she slept with this new guy from work whom she watched the Super Bowl with last night, something she swore she wasn't going to do. I had a feeling this would happen, but I wanted to believe in her and hoped that some greater rationality would stop it. But alas, this was not to be.

In a period of 48 hours she has broken up with one man and rebounded into the arms of another. She is already talking about a relationship and worse still is only just beginning to see what I and others had been telling her all along about the last guy. My friend is already cataloging this new man's traits and interests and giving me explanations of why this is so much better than the last one. Alibis, excuses, justifications, call them what you will but they are all the same. It is apparent she knows deep down what is going on and how unstable and unhealthy this is but is unwilling to accept it. So she searches for anything that can be used to weave a tapestry more beautiful and artificial than the reality.

Even more frustrating is the fact that my friend wants my full approval and support. In that vain we had lunch this afternoon with her new beau. Believe you me it was all I could do to keep silent and be civil. He seemed nice enough but was ultimately DULL (and a hick) and I failed to see the love (or even lust) connection here. When you get down to it there is nothing very exciting about him. I have very bad feelings about this especially since this guy, knowing full well she is fresh out of a relationship, wants to seriously date her right now. I fact he is showing all the classic signs of white knightdom that the last one showed. It's like watching a domino falls.

My friend is not happy about my disapproval though it isn't so much disapproval as it is concern. I am very concerned for the way she is behaving. It is totally not like her and it is quite dangerous to her mental state. If she had gotten up one morning and decided to be a slut I could have dealt with that better. This is much worse. She is attaching herself to these men with such force and desperation, fully playing up the damsel in distress role, that it makes Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction look rational! This is a highly educated and intelligent career woman who has in a months time become a co-dependant relationship addict, desperately seeking worth and fulfillment in ANYTHING that makes itself out to be a serious relationship. You damn right I don't approve and am scared.

It grieves me greatly. I love my friend very much and I don't want to see her do this to herself. The worst part is that she has taken to constructing faux naiveté, deliberately making herself clueless to the characters of these men and the consequences of her actions and then is devastated when things fall apart. I'm so frustrated with it I could scream.

Worse still is the fact that I can't do a damn thing about it. I can see the tragedy approaching but I am powerless to prevent it. All I can do is stand by and wait for it to happen. And that is one of the hardest things to do when you are close to someone. I guess that's the lesson I must learn from all this. That there is nothing to do but just let her be and wait for things to work themselves out.

A part of me wants to be happy for my friend. I want to tell her, "Go crazy baby. Live it up. Have fun." She is exerting her independence and finding herself sexually, which are good things in and of themselves. But at what price, the other part of me asks. We are alike in many ways, hence why we are friends, but there is a key difference in our personalities. While I can sleep with a man and be completely detached about it, she has demonstrated and admitted that she can't. She goes to bed with a man and that's it. She is instantly attached and unable to sleep with anyone else or see anything beyond it turning into a more long-term relationship. And in that very moment the fantasy building begins. Soon she is envisioning their future plans and outings, placing herself in a carnival of thoughts, fantasies, and emotions. And just like a carnival the lights eventually go out and the attractions pack up and move on. And when that happens she i