FITTING OUT

still hanging...

2010-02-01T15:39:00.000-08:00

I know I've totally ignored this blog of mine and I honestly don't intend to jump right back into it anywhere near where I used to be, but I just had to get Giada off the top...

The last few months have been kind of a blur for me: In October I finally started the job I got in May only to suddenly loose it in November. December was spent back on the beach with warm temps, sunny skies and high hopes. I visited far away family and long lost friends and celebrated that the year was over. January brought new ideas, new friends, hopeful prospects, cooler temps and rain- lots and lots of rain.

February is still young but my visions remain strong even though some of my hopes somewhat banished. My bank account is depleted, my hair is much longer and as of yesterday my wine cabinet is now empty...

I'll be one year older in two more weeks and probably 1lb heavier in 20 more days. (planning a huge wine and cheese party to get that wine cabinet filled up again)

Southern California living has totally brought me to other levels- I'm more relaxed than I've ever been and I'm unemployed; I'm feeling stronger than I ever have and I haven't been running in quite some time; I've been more creative visually than I even knew I could be and I've stopped blogging; and I've learned how to connect with my spiritual and intuitive side a whole lot quicker and I feel strangely connected to those homeless folks living on the beach- I get it.

The views still amaze me, the weather still warms me while the sun feeds me and the air still quiets my mind. Living without a net is really hard... but unbelievably beautiful (the view is from Giada's bedroom) and I'm looking forward to March when my wine cabinet is full again. Hope you all are well-

Cheers

hot mom #1

2009-08-05T17:16:00.000-07:00

She already made one list but after this photo we're starting a new one...

HOT MOM'S:

First up, Giada De Laurentiis. I know the ketchup's not sexy, but come on now...

wine of the month

2009-07-27T15:45:00.000-07:00

July's wine is this little delicious gem.

It's good "recession" wine coming in at $10.99 or less.

It's got an interesting label.

A good choice to bring to a group of women because of it's name.

Substantial enough for a meaty pizza or some olives before dinner.

Available in fine retail and grocery stores nation wide.

It tastes smooth and feels mellow going down.

Looks good in a gift basket.

Great basic wine to have on hand and pop open when the guests need another.

manhattan beach: more than a beach

2009-07-21T16:04:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday it was off to Manhattan Beach for the day. I figure since I have the time these days I might as well go sightseeing and Manhattan Beach is a mere 13 miles from my house. After a lazy morning at home, I hit the road around 11:00 and was on the beach by 11:35- not bad. I had never been to Manhattan Beach before, all I knew was that it was very close to LAX and for some odd reason I was under the impression that it was going to have a crazy-busy, very "LA" feel to it- more so than a hip, Southern California, beach volleyball feel to it. Well, it proved to be all of the above, and more...

Before I left I had read that the Manhattan Beach Open was starting there that day so I was a little worried about the parking but thankfully I ended up finding a spot on the main thoroughfare-Manhattan Beach Blvd, where the parking was free and the walk down to the beach was a breeze. The Blvd leads down to the pier and when I got down there I found out there's not much on that pier except a small cafe, a free mini aquarium and tons of people fishing- not so exciting, especially compared to some other piers in Southern California. It was however a great view for me to gain some perspective on this whole LA beach scene thing: Surfers to the South of the pier, Boogie boards to the North (that's the 'rule') with the Volleyball tournament scattered all over the south end of the beach. It was still early in the day when I made my way off of the pier and over to the sand with the athletes to watch a few minutes of the preliminary rounds, but it wasn't long before a guy walked by me with a Subway sandwich when I got really hungry all of a sudden. I peeled myself away from that very relaxing, sunny, mellow volleyball area and headed back up Manhattan Beach Blvd in search of some food.

Downtown Manhattan Beach is a dining, drinking and shopping mecca and it's all a 1/2 a block away from the beach which I guess is what makes this particular "beach" town so popular with the little Missie's, family vacationers and Hollywood types who feel they want a breath of fresh air but don't want to stray too far from chaos. I grabbed my sandwich and made my way through the sweaty crowds to get back to the beach. This time I was headed over on the North side of the Pier away from the games so I could eat my turkey sub in peace. I must have walked for at least 10 minutes; the beach was packed with groups of campers, families with little babies and packs of young giggly teens - I wanted no part of any of that so I walked, and walked until I found a quiet place to sit. The beach front itself is about 2 miles long and equipped with all the essentials: lifeguards every 100 yards, semi-big surf , plenty of sand and volleyball nets as far as the eye can see.

After I scoffed down my sandwich and lounged a bit, I strolled back over to watch the ladies play some ball, then took a leisurely stroll around town to soak up the Manhattan vibe. Oddly enough, this place wasn't doing it for me. The crowds were too thick, my feet were dirty from the sand (not the cleanest beach in Southern CA), the retail frenzy felt way too enmeshed with the actual beach and I got a sense that take away the US Open and this area could easily drift into more like a Hollywood cocktail party feel and less like a beach volleyball town feel (unless you stick close to the shore). Manhattan Beach may be known as the beach volleyball capital of the world but with it, has also been tagged as one of the wealthiest and politically conservative zip codes in California. I do believe I may have been feeling that when I wandered the streets which is why my day was cut short and I was on the road and home again by 3.

But, all in all I will definitely take C.Love back there with me in the off season for a cocktail and some dinner; I'd like to see the place when it's not the height of summer. I did notice a number of very cool looking outdoor bars right on the main drag that were calling for me to sit down and enjoy the view... there just wasn't any room to sit. Next time.

As far as beaches alone go, I rate it a 6 on my scale 10 and I'll explain my criteria soon... (for the record, Malibu and Zuma Beach was rated an 8)

I wonder ...

2009-07-18T14:23:00.000-07:00

If Facebook will ever fade.

If there will ever be a lesbian who opens a women's only bar and the place is busy every night... with lesbians.

If Direct TV will ever figure out how to do the job with less wire.

When these sunglasses will become a thing of the past. And I hope it's soon.

If people that are scrambling to buy Michael Jackson paraphernalia/Cd's ever listened and enjoyed his music when he was alive.

If customer service will ever be important to utility companies.

When people will realize they should never wear these unless they are a little baby. And never wear jeans that look like these ever.

Why the Barefoot Contessa has so many gay men on her show.

If she's ever going to post on this blog again.

Why it really never rains in Southern California and why the hell aren't there any homemade ice cream parlors in this city.

When my girlfriend will come home and what we're going to do for dinner.

The flip side of unemployment

2009-07-17T16:16:00.000-07:00

I think I'll dedicate this post to my friend t2, out there in Atlanta who's sporting a new hair cut... and recently laid off from her job.

I've been officially unemployed for 9 months now; granted it was a voluntary leave but still, I've been without a paying job for a long time. I actually got hired in a new gig about a month ago but I won't start working at it for at least another couple of weeks. It's a new gourmet cafe/market/catering in town that I'll be cooking for and we're having some issues with the city around turning the power on- so until then I wait. Anyway, being unemployed was really easy at first and it wasn't until the dust settled that the issues came up. But through it all, through all of the ups and downs, I can definitely find at least 5 things that not only thrived in this period but kept me sane as well.

Here's my list for the top 5 (in no particular order):

1. No need to take a shower every day.

2. Cocktail hour can start any time you want.

3. Exercising becomes the main focus of the day.

4. 'Time' is irrelevant.

5. Got back to blogging and decided I just can't do the facebook thing...

my day in malibu

2009-07-10T16:41:00.000-07:00

As I was driving around Malibu on Pacific Coast Highway I was trying to imagine how the hell I would describe this place to people unfamiliar with it and asking me, "so what's Malibu Beach like?". Then I drove past the welcome sign that said "Malibu, 27 Miles of Scenic Beauty" and I thought yeah, that's definitely true but what kind of beauty, scenic beauty is everywhere in California and this place feels different. Then I kept cruising down Pacific Coast- stopping at various look-out areas, driving down "coastal access routes" and private drives and thought to myself that Malibu is just 'cool'. Cool like surf city cool; It's like beachy, throw back to the 60's cool; like that California laid back vibe cool; like parking your pickup truck on the side of the road and hopping the fence to surf kind of cool. I know that's what the Malibu coast was once, back in the day when Frankie, Annette and Gidget ruled the beach but to actually still be able to feel their presence? Scenic beauty for sure but 27 miles of it almost untouched by time is the real beauty- how that vibe still washes ashore is totally, well... rad.

While the throw back to the 60's beach blanket bingo vibe definitely flows through the beaches, the cliffs, the mountains and the 22 miles of highway running through it, unfortunately it's 2009, Gidget and friends are long gone and finding a place to leisurely park that pick-up is close to impossible because of it's popularity. But fear not my friends, Malibu's Surfrider Beach remains one of California's premiere surfing beaches and I was actually able to park my Toyota 3 or 4 times on Pacific Coast and hop the rail to the beach. My first stop was Zuma Beach. I've heard so much hype about Zuma , I just had to see what all the fuss was about so here goes: Since I didn't see parking on Pacific Coast right away, I was willing to give up the 7 bucks and park in the lot. I got out of my car and feeling a bit overwhelmed, I stood back behind the crowd for a minute to gain some perspective. As I scanned the 2 mile beach it was umbrellas, families and kids as far as the eye could see. Usually whenever I search for a place to sit on a beach this popular I'll attempt to walk far enough away where the crowds thin out so I have some personal space to just be with the beach but unfortunately there was no space to be had in Zuma land that day. I decided to zig zagg my way through the crowds to test the water. When I turned around to get a different perspective I think I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me- I say I think because it was a strange feeling to have but it definitely felt real. Sure, Zuma is a fairly large beautiful Southern California beach; there's excellent surf, plenty of parking available, there's volleyball courts, snack bars and playgrounds, lifeguards are everywhere, the sand is clean and it was actually relatively quiet sounding considering it was a Friday afternoon in July and the place looked like a 3 ring circus- but my vision of Zuma was now blurred. Malibu Barbie and I used to lay our blankets down next to each other and talk about Malibu Beach. I pictured it-she told me. I'm not quite sure what it was I was expecting but I think next time I head to Malibu, Zuma won't be my first stop, It'll be El Matador Beach, which is up a little more North on PCH. It's semi-secluded and there's way more room to dream the dream. On my way back down PCH I actually ended up back at Zuma but at the very North end of it. I was able to squeeze my car into a spot on the road, hop the guard rail and stake my spot on the sand- I felt I needed to give it a second chance. I sat for a good 40 minutes, watching the surfers and feeling the energy of the ocean. I remember saying to myself that it smelled good there, I could actually smell the water and taste the salt and that never happens in Santa Monica... Thankfully Barbie was right after all, I knew she was.

After a bit more cruising I made my final stop at Surfrider beach just to let it all settle into my system before I headed back to the hustle and bustle and reality of Santa Monica. The cool thing about Malibu is that Pacific Coast runs right next to the beach and that doesn't happen everywhere in California and I love it when it does, it's like the land and the sea are one. Malibu is where the houses line up next to each other on the sand so "Summerland" like. It's where most residences are blocked off, fenced off, tucked away or have restricted views because they're people with a famous name and some cash and they can have it that way. And it's where the "scenic beauty" doesn't look like a movie set you can't walk on, it looks like nature you want to lay down on. I came home and said "now I get why so many Hollywood types live in Malibu". I get it because it's removed enough, quiet enough, beautiful enough, close enough, real enough, beachy enough and special enough to be able to call home. It's cool man... really, really cool and I can't wait to go back and spend another day.

That night with salt still on my face and sand on my feet, we ran into our neighbors unexpectedly and ended up sitting around drinking wine all night out on their patio. Just like Barbie said: California livin' is easy!

What I did last summer cont...

2009-07-03T13:48:00.000-07:00

OK, so last September I started a post highlighting the top 5 things I did that summer, but for reasons out of my control I only made it to the the top 2. I'm here now to round out the top 5 with my other 3- I know that's pretty lamo especially since I have tons of stuff floating around in my head to write about that is actually present day material, but I intend to highlight my top 5 for this summer in a few months from now and I can't really do that without finishing last year- I just can't. So here goes:

#3. Quitting my job of 13 years

#4. Wine tasting in the rain

#5. Jumping without a net

The month of July 2008 was a big one for me because I had some pretty hefty things on my plate; things that would ultimately determine the course of my life. For starters I made the decision to leave the comfort, familiarity, safety and support of the job that I held for the past 13 years. It was a very easy decision but an extremely difficult task. Sure, there were signs that I should be moving on and things I hated about the daily grind and a strong sense of knowing that this wasn't where I belonged any longer but along with all that turmoil there was also total security. I had that job, my boss and my co-workers wrapped around my little fingers; I was in total control of my life. I made my own schedule (somewhat), had a boat load of vacation time, a huge network of close friends, daily opportunities to have 'fun' at work and actually laugh my ass off, benefits up the wazoo and a 10-15 minute commute. My work life was good - on the outside.

It was July 6 that I told my boss I would be leaving the company... but I would be around for another 4 months. The place I worked at was planning to moving and restructure come November so the time to get out couldn't have been more perfect for me. I eventually closed down the old place, said my goodbyes, cleaned out my stuff and made that 15 minute commute home once and for all. Walking away voluntarily was difficult, especially a month before the holidays and with no immediate plan on the horizon (the big picture had been put into motion but only in the mind) but thankfully I left with a higher knowing that 'all would be OK'. And it is...

My decision to leave my job came from our much larger decision which was made years before to relocate our lives, but what was only starting to become a reality over last summer. Let's just say I did a lot of spiritual growth between May and September and learned many interesting things along the way from some very wise people. I've had spiritual growth, or should I say I've been aware of my spiritual growth for many years now but it was only last summer that I moved to another level with it and for that I am very thankful. It made everything else that summer so much more colorful and alive. And that brings me to the wine...

the Abbey in West Hollywood

2009-04-29T22:58:00.000-07:00

Last Sat, we decided to go to The Abbey in West Hollywood. It's not like it was a difficult decision to make at all, it's just that we've been a little tired of 'firsts' and we knew that going there would definitely feel strange and new.

We're talking about the Abbey in West Hollywood people, come on now. The fucking L Word was created around West Hollywood and the cast used to hang out at this place like you and I hang out at our local Starbucks. Trust me, I'm not someone who gets overly excited to grab a glimpse of a famous person, as a matter of fact most of the time they walk right past me and I'm oblivious. It's just really cool to be able to hang out at a place that is kind of famous and very,very cool.

It's a very popular place and it sits on a side street off of Santa Monica Blvd. It was easy for us to get there, all we have to do is hop on Santa Monica Blvd and head East for about 7.8 miles. Not being too confident in knowing where we were going and where all the action took place, we decided to drive around for awhile to scope out the scene. We kind of fell upon The Abbey when we were looking for some parking- but trust me this place is impossible to miss. For starters it's HUGE, it has a total outdoors/indoors California vibe to it, it's really beautifully decorated, it's got some great energy flowing through it and it's packed on a regular basis. It of course caters to the gay boys but it's also quite popular with the lesbos in and around the LA area. It's a bar you go to- to 'see and be seen' and trust me, if you're a gay boy this is definitely the place to go. It was a complete party atmosphere when we entered as if an hour before 'Queer As Folk' just filmed a night club scene there but it was because every Sat they have what they call ABS: skin, sounds and sun. When we walked in under the archway, the sun was hot, the crowd was coiffed, the music was loud, the drinks were flowing and atmosphere was alive and well. Recession/depression?... not here and not on Saturday at the Abbey. One thing about those gay boys, they sure know how to live life and live it in style.

Since there seemed to be a tanning event going on outside and all seats were full, C.Love and I headed in to the bar for a drink and to settle ourselves down. I personally have a hard time checking everything out when I'm not seated or at least settled in a corner somewhere-away from the crowd. I prefer to be on the outside looking in. We hung at the bar long enough to drink 2 drinks each, down some chicken fingers, make small talk with the bartender and then we headed out. It was a perfect way to enter into the gay Hollywood 'scene'... it's difficult to break in when you don't know a soul and we know no one. As famous as this place is, it has a very inviting atmosphere and it's amazingly non intimidating. Granted, everyone around there looks as if they just walked out of a magazine so beware: you will be looked at up-and -down. We have noticed that people on a whole are definitely more put together out here; they are more fit and more conscious of what they put on and in their bodies, which is kind of refreshing I must say.

All in all the afternoon/evening was fun and we're so glad we got that out of the way- another first checked off the list. Now we're good to go into West Hollywood and not feel like we'll be walking onto the set of the L Word with Shane lurking somewhere in the shadows... Anyway, we will go back because the Lesbian scene out here in Santa Monica is null and void. They are here, but not out and not together. It appears the women congregate in West Hollywood and Long Beach and that's it-

We will find them though- trust me.

It's Official!

2009-04-17T21:06:00.011-07:00

OK, I know it's been almost 3 months since my last measly post but I'm here to say I'm alive and well and officially living in CALIFORNIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (not so special to those of you actually born here but please bare with me)- plus I'm doing a little 'drunk posting' thing here so...

Anyway, to make an extremely long story short, C.love and I now officially live in Santa Monica CA., and it's fucking awesome; sun, warm temps, sunny days, laid back vibe, excellent food, fresh veggies, blue sky, ocean breezes, sun, sun, sun... no rain in sight- I know it may sound a little shallow to say the most important issue in my life is weather but I can't stress it enough how important "weather" is to us. I can't 'think' in cold temps; can't see straight, can't speak properly, can't breathe, and can't move forward- literally and physically. Warm weather to me is like oil to the Tin Man - it wakes up my soul.

As some of you know, we have been dreaming about living here for some time now and trust me it was a HUGE process to make this dream become a reality but thankfully I'm here to tell you all that dreams actually can come true... with a little work. We've only been here for one month exactly, but it feels like we've lived a life time within those 30 days. On the down side I don't have any employment yet, we still have many boxes that are not unpacked, we had to rent a storage space for $80 a month because the apartments out here are on average 600 square feet for a 1 bedroom and we are have enough furniture for a 2000 square ft. place- and we are friendless. It sucks being friendless when you're used to having a blanket of friends to keep you warm for the past 20 years. I'm struggling with this one-

Anyway, I'm here and tonight since C.Love is out of town and my cat is sleeping so I thought It would be a perfect time time to connect with the blogging world- connect in a distant way I suppose. Good or bad, blogging world is like family and it's nice to be able to call on them when needed- these days familiarity is needed.

I do hope you are all well and I truly apologize for not "keeping up with you all" but life was calling me and blogging became more of a task than anything else. That's not how I choose to blog, for me it's a give and take and if I can't give then I won't take... but I will wonder.

I will fill in the details of this move (hopefully) as time goes on but in the meantime I'm here to tell you all to keep dreaming... Cheers to livin' life!

Just Checking...

2009-01-27T16:53:00.005-08:00

My computer's fvudck,ed up again; I'm moving to Santa Monica in March; I think it should be against the law to have more than 3 kids because people can't have more than five cats; I miss blogging and the connections but I know some of you could care less; and I'm unemployed and loving it -

Other than that I'm selling my Barbies on Craigslist and it feels strange.

If you're out there, hello...

Lobster rolls and coleslaw

2008-09-18T10:11:00.006-07:00

#2 Homemade Lobster Rolls and Coleslaw

Lobster and Lobster rolls are synonymous with the East Coast and we try to sit down and indulge in one or the other every time we go back there to visit the family. The last one I had was last winter at a seafood shack on the Maine Coast. The weather was cold and gray. I had my Bean Boots and winter hat on and there were Christmas trees and wreaths available for sale right outside the restaurant; it's not how I typically envision feasting on lobster rolls, but we do what we have to do in life to enjoy greatness and on that bitterly cold day in December we did just that.

This past summer we had the unexpected pleasure of receiving two live Lobsters via Fed Ex from C.Love's parents who were in Maine to my family on the Cape. They had told us to look out for them the day after we arrived because the little guys would need to be put on ice. After emerging from the basement on the morning of day two of our vacation I immediately informed my mom to not worry about dinner that night because I had it covered- we were having lobster. It didn't take us long to decide to make rolls with the two 1/4 lb lobsters since there were 4 of us for dinner and that meant not much meat to go around. We thought about buying two more and breaking out the crackers and picks but I was really looking forward to making my own lobster rolls instead. I've had lobsters at home many times before but I've never actually made a lobster roll.

The morning was a little overcast so C. Love and I decided to hop in the car and head up Rt. 6 to P-Town. We took some detours into Welfleet to check out some property before hitting Commercial Street but by the time we got down to the dunes the sky turned dark, the clouds opened up and the rain poured down so we only stopped for a quick drink and headed for home. The sun soon came out again and skies cleared as we pulled into The Box Lunch in Eastham for a quick sandwich. I called my mom to see if the lobsters had arrived and the answer was an astounding YES- with seaweed and all. Excellent! So exciting, I know it's not much but it's the simple things you know? Driving around Cape Cod with the sun shining waiting for lobsters to be delivered to my house... and my mom and dad hanging out waiting to receive them. It was mid July, I was on vacation and I was making my own damn lobster rolls! (life doesn't get much better) I wanted to round out the dinner with some homemade coleslaw and corn on the cob so the next stop was the grocery store to grab the wine, the rolls, the mayo and all the other necessary ingredients before heading home.

Around 4:00, my parents typically start to get a little restless for dinner and since I really wanted to enjoy my culinary experience to the fullest with these lobsters, I sat them both in the porch with some wine and appetizers before I went on a search for the lobster pot. I found the pot, C.Love and my own bottle of wine and hit the kitchen. It turned out to be a perfect afternoon/evening; we toasted the buns (the real "New England Style" hot dog buns- split on the top), I made the kick-ass coleslaw, Cooked the corn, and made the lobster mixture. I like my lobster rolls the way most Bostonians do: with just mayo and salt and pepper- that's it. Lobster meat is so tasty, I don't think you need anything else in there. With a little butter on that toasted bun you're good to go.

My coleslaw was amazing. Like lobster rolls, most people get coleslaw out at a restaurant where it's been sitting around for days or it taste all watery and weak. I've never made my own and now I always will. C. Love didn't even like coleslaw but after that night she completely changed her mind.

Homemade lobster rolls and coleslaw on Cape Cod in the middle of summer... definitely a highlight and one I won't forget anytime soon.

What I did this past summer- Top 5

2008-09-09T12:25:00.003-07:00

#1. SEX IN MY PARENTS BASEMENT.

The prelude:

It all started in the restaurant; there was C. Love sitting next to me and my parents across from us. We had a glass a wine each out on the deck before dinner and then my dad ordered a bottle for my mom and C. Love and I to split once seating at our table. (not a big deal but C.love can get bombed after only a couple of glasses and my mom is 77 years old. Granted she's a sprightly healthy, 77 year old who drinks a glass a night but still... I figured I'd be drinking the whole thing my myself- boy was I wrong.) It was a hot and sticky July evening on Cape Cod, we were looking and feeling good and we were on our third night of vacation. We were both looking forward to a night out for some for delicious seafood and good wine- little did we know that the dinner was the spring board to a night of ecstasy. Yikes.

Dinner was ordered and the wine and conversation flowed effortlessly. Everything seemed quite G-rated when all of a sudden, as I took a huge bite of my stuffed shrimp, I happen to glance over at C. Love and was immediately, totally blown away by her intense, 100 percent sexual stare. A sex stare?! I'm thinking, shit, how long has she been staring at me and what the hell is going on!? My dad was sitting right across from her while my mom was talking to both of us- oblivious maybe, but still looking and speaking to us. C. Love's wet stares and sexy vibe continued throughout the dinner- she was thowing me major steamy looks right and left and made some serious moves under the table but continued talk to my dad and mom and keep them fully engaged. I did my best to keep the conversation flowing and of course her wine glass full at all times all while soaking it up- litterally and figuratively. Bottom line here: she pretty much performed optical sex on me while we ate our stuffed shrimp and baked haddock - right in front of my mom and dad. (If my dad didn't notice those glances I'd be surprised- he had only one beer and water the whole night.)

We managed to get through dinner and the vibe continued the whole car ride home but thankfully home was only a couple of streets away. I vaguely remember walking into the house with my parents, throwing our keys on the kitchen counter and immediately saying "well, thanks for dinner-love you, we're going to head down" (down meaning downstairs...) we were luckily spending the week in the mini apartment down stairs instead of the guest bedroom on the second floor. On a side note, we never get the basement because it's reserved for the families with kids but they weren't around this year-hip hip hooray.

The Event:

I don't really remember exactly what transpired as soon as we got down there but I can totally remember whatever happened occurred extremely quickly and lasted for quite awhile. I remember thinking to myself- thank god we're in this basement because there's no way this stuff is happening in that guest room off the kitchen- no way. Of course I can't give you any details but I trust you all to use your imagination on this one... sex is sex but when it's good it's really, really good-

I will admit that the wine, the fact that we had vacation head and being in the basement certainly added to the sexual stimulation factor but I'd also like to believe it was a simple case of being in lust and love with my girlfriend and having it all come together that made it 'a night to remember'... and a top five contender.

Cheers to summer sex.

same station, different vibe

2008-09-02T16:02:00.003-07:00

School's back in session and so am I... I think. I've gone back to my original blog 'look', changed my focus and changed my direction. Stay tuned...

school's out- and so am I

2008-06-10T19:04:00.004-07:00

Finally... and like we respond to all evites these days: it's a maybe. Eat, drink and be merry! Peace out...

sucker

2008-05-15T05:28:00.006-07:00

Just for the record I don't eat fast food. Every once in a great while I will have the 'hangover' burger to ease the pain or I'll stop for some fries and a chicken sandwich on a road trip simply because I'm in the need of some protein, but basically I avoid the fast food frenzy and stick to good old fashioned turkey sandwiches when I'm out and about.

I'm sure you've seen the ads lately for that new Southern Chicken Sandwich at McDonald's, I sure have... I do like the chicken sandwich, the grilled, the breaded, the little nuggets- you know, they're tasty. So when this new thing came out I must say I was slightly intrigued. Southern Chicken Sandwich?, what does that mean- it's got gravy on it? I was confused, and still am. So today (and today only) McDonald's is offering a free Southern Chicken Sandwich when you purchase a drink. I'm actually thinking I may have to step or drive into a McDonald's today just to taste the thing! They're doing everything but delivering it to me- and to top it all off, the thing only has pickles on it! I love those pickles.

I'm doing it, I'm in...

safe sex

2008-04-29T16:26:00.006-07:00

(I'm fully aware of how judgemental I am being with this post but I'm thinking they all look like this)

Definition: "A cuddle party is an event designed with the intention of allowing people to experience non-sexual group physical intimacy through cuddling. Cuddle parties are described by organizers as "workshop/social-events" that gives adults an opportunity to "give and receive welcomed affectionate touch in a no-expectation, friendly setting, according to your needs, desires, interests, and boundaries." Cuddle parties are described as non-sexual events but kissing may occur at some parties. It's a drug and alcohol-free way to meet fascinating people in a relaxing environment. A laboratory where you can experiment with what makes you feel safe and feel good."

OK, what the fuck is this. On my way home from work the other day they were talking about this on the radio and so I had to check it out for myself. It's for real, people actually do this thing. First of all, I don't know about any of you but I don't need a 'cuddle' party to experience non-sexual group intimacy. But now that I just said that, I'm thinking that if you are an actual sex addict or if you have a tendency to confuse sex with intimacy than this may just be the thing for you... All I'm saying is there is NO WAY on earth I would ever go to any one of these so called cuddle parties if invited. First of all, groups of people in their pajamas freak me out (unless they are 5 year olds) and second of all, I would never attend any gathering where 'non sexual' (but completely sexual) activity is going on without some alcohol! shit, what's the point of these parties? Third of all, groups of people in their flannel pajamas is actually the most unattractive situation I think I could be in. Plus there are "rules" and what kind of party has rules- know what I'm sayin?

Rule # 1 - Pajamas stay on the whole time. (how about the fuzzy slippers?)
Rule # 2 - You don't have to cuddle anyone at a Cuddle Party, ever. (What?)
Rule # 3 - You must ask permission and receive a verbal YES before you touch anyone. (Be as specific in your request as you can.) (like that's really happening-come on now)
Rule # 4 - If you're a Yes to a request, say YES. If you're a No, say NO. (duh)
Rule # 5 - If you're a Maybe, say NO. (I disagree-if you're a maybe, say yes)
Rule # 6 - You are encouraged to change your mind. (and get the hell out of there-fast)
Rule # 7 - Respect your relationship boundaries and communicate with your partner. (yeah, "like , could you move down a little more"?)
Rule # 8 - Come get the Cuddle Caddy or ME if there's a concern, problem, or should you feel unsafe or need assistance with anything today.
Rule # 9 - Tears and laughter are both welcome. (Oh, no)
Rule # 10 - Respect people's privacy when sharing about Cuddle Parties and do not gossip.
Rule #11 - Keep the Cuddle Space Tidy (Stuffed animals take up lots of room)
Rule #12 - Thank you for arriving on time. (that one's loaded...)

One question: If this is an organized event allowing adults to experience non-sexual group intimacy why the hell are they wearing pajamas?! Why not wear turtlenecks and sweatpants?kissing may be allowed at some of them?!?... I'm thinking people that host and join these events are just desperate individuals looking for a perverted way to get some sex. So I need to know if anyone out there is familiar with these things.

The only way you would get me to attend one of these is if the invitation read: Woman only intimacy wine and cheese party; pajamas optional; and no shoes allowed. That's it.

Horizontal with Felicity

2008-04-26T16:27:00.003-07:00

O.k, I just have to say one more time that this show was THE best show on television and the fact that the subject of it has come up twice now within the last 4 days is kind of ironic so I just have to put it out there.

Last weekend I was staying at my friend's house in Atlanta and we had just gotten home from a night out when I flicked on her TV (it was in my room) and the show Felicity came on. It was strange because I thought I was turning on the actual cable but apparently I was just turning on the DVD player-whatever. (I never actually figured it out) I heard the opening theme song as I was fluffing my pillows getting ready to lay down and was immediately carried into that trance-like, lethargic state I remember so well. That was it, I was down for the count. I quickly became totally useless to anyone else for the rest of the evening because Felicity had me- hook, line and sinker. Luckily the cats seemed to accept my horizontal position and settled right in there in between my legs and by my side, oblivious to the fact that I wasn't even touching them. If I remember correctly, t2 was behind me typing away at her computer and kelly was blowing her nose in the other room (allergy season in Atlanta); all seemed right with the night.

The lighting of that show is what grabs me and then the dialog is what reels me in. It's similar to that feeling you get when you're in the middle of a euphoric 'act'... know what I mean?... you're still floating and swimming around but quite comfortable in your little place?. It's a settling spot/feeling and it all just mesmerizes me, so there I lay-on my futon with eyes glued to the screen waiting for what ever was to came next. I watched the pilot that night and I chose to watch it with the commentary on because his (J.J. Abrams) mind is so entertaining to me I dig listening to how he thinks. Felicity was a television series with heart and soul... and humor. I can't say enough good things about it and as much as I love Lost, when I first started watching that show I couldn't believe it was from the same master mind as Felicity- talk about feeling 'lost', that guy is intense to say the least. Unlike the unexplained, frustrating drama that occurs weekly on Lost, Felicity was all about reality-amazingly real, piercing reality. It was all about the stuff in between the lines and when someones able to create a series centered around what's not being said by actually saying it is my idea of a creative genius. There were no unexplained monsters in that dorm room.

Anyway, I like to just take a moment to celebrate some facts:#1- J.J. Abrams is still creating meaningful stuff, #2- Felicity is still alive and well in so many people's homes, #3- I had no idea that t2 liked the show and that just makes me feel connected to her on a totally separate level-which is cool. And talk about Felicity 'moments', the fact that I was actually in the home of someone I blog with almost daily and have only hooked up with in person only three times and there was someone in the next room I've only met twice- was pretty cool.

Angie was hanging across town that weekend at her own pad but at one point during the last day we were there, she was mentioning that it was too bad we couldn't have spent more time together (she chose to be busy with other things). When she said that, I was a little taken a back because the rest of us were having Felicity moments right and left all weekend long- just because we were sitting around doing absolutely nothing. Afunt made conscious decisions to not do 'nothing' with us but sometimes within the 'nothing' comes a whole lot of something. The something in this case was simply being present (physically) with each other (not physically, physically- come on now) you all know what I mean... and that's all we needed. I'm sorry she wasn't around more also, but such as life- and such as Felicity.

Know what I'm saying?

2008-04-21T05:46:00.002-07:00

In lieu of the weekend- Cheers! I guess we know where the 19 year old shops...

My idea of good

2008-04-14T16:43:00.005-07:00

I'm so tired of people telling me about movies they think are 'good' and then either renting them only to experience how much I think they suck or listening to them go on and on all the while saying to myself "what the hell are they talking about!, that movie sucked so bad I had to turn it off", but continuing to keep my mouth shut- just to be polite. Granted, there are way more movies out there that I think suck as opposed to rock but that's just me. Zoe's latest post was on a movie called Wristcutters: A Love Story and apparently she loved the thing but with the title alone I'm thinking it's not really a quality film... but maybe. After checking out the trailer I decided to let this one pass- but you be the judge and if you end up watching it, let Zoe know what you think.

Anyway, her post got me thinking about my own favorite movies and thought I'd share. For starters, the movie The Station Agent holds one of the top (If not the top) spots on my list and I recommend it all the time to people looking for a good flick. I actually only recommend it to certain people though, because of the slow pace of the movie tons of people would find it boring and I don't want to recommend it if I think they can't handle it. To me- those people are boring. If I ever had to do speed dating, this would be one of my questions- 1. Did they see it and 2. Did they like it. This would tell me a lot. (other speed dating questions are another post) I understand people like movies for very specific reasons and depending on what mood they are in when they watch it has a huge effect also but for me, The Station Agent is a movie I love because it's real- not real as in non-fictional but real as in authentic and 'quality'. I get a good feeling from watching it- not an angry feeling, a sad feeling, a violent feeling or a depressing feeling. It feels normal, it's cool as hell and it's definately in my top 5. Other movies are:

Good Will Hunting- it's a Boston flick and it's "awesome" for many reasons.

E.T.- It's a classic and a watching a little kids mind in action is hard to beat.

Swingers- Funny as hell

That's three for starters, there's more but I'm running out of time and gotta go- So anyway, go rent Wristcutters if you're into that or rent Station Agent if you want to spend time with space... Let me (and Zoe) know.

tears of joy

2008-04-05T11:19:00.010-07:00

I cry. I'm not a "crier", but I do cry. I don't particularly like to cry because whenever it happens it always seems to get in the way of whatever else is going on at the time. For me, if I'm sad it just makes me sadder and if I'm happy (and crying) it just wrecks the mood because now I need to find a tissue and can't focus on the enjoyment anymore. My crying can occur under many different circumstances:I can easily cry during sad or inspirational movies and seeing children and animals of any kind in pain; I cry when my parents are in pain and I could totally break down if I sat with the thought of one of them going through life with out the other due to a death; I am able to cry from certain words, pictures, thoughts and television shows and I'm a total sucker for the 'underdog' and the person living in "rags" making it big. But I also always seem to cry, well my eyes tear up, whenever I crack up laughing and sometimes that laughter turns into a lump in my throat as if I really feel like crying- it's strange and the eyes completely fill up when I cut an onion, but there's no emotion attached to those tears. In other words it's just never convenient to shed the tears, so I don't jump at the opportunity, but as we all know sometimes the act is unavoidable.

I've learned as an adult that crying is a healthy thing and should not be held in- kind of like sneezing... so I do it when the the moment moves me. I actually cried many times this winter, not because it was the worst winter in like 15 years but because I was either frustrated as hell over something, in a fight with C. Love, still growing, or over the fact that my job was requiring me to work some Saturdays; hence I felt like my life was being taken away from me. It's been a pretty tough winter for many reasons both emotionally and spiritually. At times I chose to bury my self in 'sex and drugs and rock and roll' to sooth the pain but that relief is only temporary then it's time to face the truth... and the tears.

Today I went running for only the second time this winter (I choose not to run on ice and risk killing myself from traffic or dodge snowbanks and get frost bite) because today was 61 degrees. Just saying that is enough to make me cry on the inside. The fact that I haven't moved my body much more than to run up a flight or two of stairs for the last 3 months didn't make for an easy jog, but I managed to get myself down to the lake. As soon as I jumped off the wall and my feet hit the sand my eyes started to tear and I felt that feeling in my heart, head and throat- I made my way over to the rocks away from the babies, the dogs and the walkers and totally burst into tears. They were completely undeniable and obviously inconvenient. I guess they were tears of joy but what they felt like were tears of relief. A lot of my tears over the winter were because I couldn't breathe; today my tears were because I finally could. That warmth from the sun and the energy from the beach is all my soul needs for fuel and the fact that it was without them for the last 5 months was too much for me to take today. They were tears of joy but then sadness when I soon realized that was the (sad) truth.

And of course I didn't have any tissues on me.

A hard knock life

2008-03-25T17:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday at work I noticed a small Spiderman lunchbox sitting on a desk in the office and it seemed (and looked) really strange. I knew who the lunch box belonged to because it was on the desk of the 'new person' but instead of my saying out loud, " what the fuck is up with the lunch box? does she have a 7 year old son or what?", I calmly asked if there was a 7 year old little boy running around somewhere- and people looked at me like I was crazy, they didn't get my joke. There's never any 7 year old's running around our work place, the youngest is maybe 17 and they're doing everything except running around. But my question was more of a way for me to understand who the new woman in the building was without being rude. I needed some explanation for that Spiderman box because I'm sorry but you can't be a 27, 37 or 47 year old woman and bring one to work on your first day without an explanation-she seemed sane but you never know...

When adults carry or own (and use) little kid things like that it freaks me out. If it's a joke I kind of get it but still... leave it at home. Don't wear little pink or yellow t-shirts with rainbows or kittens on them and don't wear little colored barrettes in your hair as if you were four. Now don't get me wrong, I'd kill to have my Partridge Family lunch box back in my possession but if I did, you wouldn't find me filling it with my banana, my apple, my turkey sandwich, my oatmeal, or my little bag of chocolate chip cookies and bringing it to work... no way, that box stays home and comes out only to show off how well I took care of it. It would even be different if she happen to have maybe an old school Barbie lunch box or something classic but Spiderman?!

Anyway, from Spiderman the conversation turned into Little Orphan Annie. We were talking about the lunchboxes we had as kids and someone in the group had an Annie one. Now I've come to realize that If there's a woman in any room between the ages of 35 and 41 and the story of "Annie" comes up, nothing else and no other topic is going to take over that subject- at least for the next 10 minutes straight. People don't just seem to 'remember' "Annie"; they live, breath and worship her- and her little dog too. The way they talk about her borders on obsession but it's so strange because it happened so long ago and they talk about it as if they were just on stage with her. I can never figure out if it's Andrea McArdle, the actual story, the orphanage thing or the music that everyone was attracted to but it never fails: first comes the announcement "I loved Little Orphan Annie", then comes the singing "it's a hard knock life...", then more chatter about the sun coming out tomorrow. The infatuation and power around this thing amazes me. Sure, I remember Annie but because she had to have red hair and have the bad luck of being an orphan, and I too had red hair- I guess I chose not to pay too much attention to her. A red headed orphan... do all the odd ball characters have to have red hair? Come on now, Pippie, Annie, Hollie. It sucked for me because I was the only scrappy looking red headed kid on the block and in school and feeling quite special because of it and they had to go and make weird looking characters in the movies and comic strips have red hair just like me. It was rough.

I just realized this post has turned from talking about a grown woman carrying a lunch box to my childhood issues with being a red head. Lunch boxes, Little Orphan Annie, red hair and pigtails, infatuations and being a little kid... I'm not sure what it all means, but I'm glad I was a little red headed kid - even if it's taken me 1/2 my life to realize it.

Ahhh

2008-03-22T15:12:00.006-07:00

I haven't had anything to drink for close to two weeks because of my horrific bronchial/flu-like/exhaustion state that I've been entrenched in. But yesterday with the snow flying, Easter weekend upon us and cancelled plans to head out (because of the fucking snow storm), I picked up a couple bottles along with dinner on the way home from work and man did it go down smoothly...

I sipped it slowly and methodically and I swear I could have drank it for the entire evening. It's good to be back...

Out of commission

2008-03-12T16:21:00.008-07:00

I don't know what that last post was all about, I scare myself sometimes... butter? man, I am sick...

Anyway, for the last week or so I've been fighting a cold; I've been physically exhausted, feeling a little dazed and confused and walking around like I haven't slept in days- and I have. Last night I went to bed with a fever and a low, deep cough that was just waiting to explode. Needless to say I called in sick today and spent the entire day on the couch- with exploding cough, lots of tea (I hate tea), spoonfuls of raw honey and herbal cough medicine. My chest is burning, my cough is dry, my fever of 101 at 2:00 has broken and I'm back to a normal temp, but I still feel like I've been hit by a mac truck... and left out in the cold-in the rain. Damn, I've escaped getting sick all winter long! I was so proud of myself, feeling like some anti-germ fighting super hero or something. I guess even superheroes get knocked down every once in a while, but I don't like it.

So yesterday I high tailed it out of work at 4:00 so I could finish up a project I have been working on and that was going to be picked up on Thursday. The project was actually a very cool one but it took up every ounce of free time I have had for the past 2 months or so. I'll try to bottom line it here: Someone hired me to fill an ipod with 4-6 hours of music and then make a mixed CD from that music and burn 45 copies(one for each couple) with her evite logo on each CD. She's having a "meet and greet" party at a restaurant for her friends and neighbors and since she had zero knowledge of any adult music (she has 3 bratty rug rats), she needed some help. All she knew is that she wanted "cocktail" type music that people could talk over- nothing too depressing or too loud. No problem, I was all over it. I have enough music in my house and on my computer to take care of a 20 hour cocktail party. I accepted the challenge and immediately dove in. The problem, and it was a big one throughout the entire process, was this woman. She just wouldn't leave me alone at any point throughout to let me do my thing. She e-mailed every day, wanted certain things earlier than we discussed, couldn't commit on the fee, had horrible taste in music, and basically couldn't let it go. So for months not only have I been listening to and choosing particular songs for the party but also pacifying this woman through the entire process. After printing up and cutting 45 copies of the play list for the mix on Tuesday at work, I came home and slid each one into it's sleeve and I was done. I piled the CD'S on the coffee table and went into the dining room to get a box to keep them safe. Less than one second later, I hear a crash and run in to find that my cat has knocked over my glass of water and it was all over the coffee table FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I grabbed the pile of CD'S and went into the dining room to assess the damage. First of all, do you know how long it takes to burn 45 CDs, compose and print out the cover art and decide which 20 songs are making it to the "mix".?! I take music and this type of thing very, very seriously. I told her from day one that I was treating this as if it were my own party and she had absolutely nothing to worry about. I changed the play list many times and even went to the restaurant and listened to the ipod. Since it sounded horrible because of their speakers, I turned around and burned 5 CDS for her to put into the changer instead. Sound is of utmost importance to me. This thing took me forever!

Back to the accident: it turned out that every single CD that I had burned and put into a sleeve had to be taken out and sleeve tossed- each and every one was wet. At This point I still had two nights left if by any chance the play list needed to be re printed or (the worst of all) CD's needed to be re-burned. Icouldn't literally breathe because with every breath came a whopping cough- All this while chasing the cat around the dining room because she was now obsessed with what's on the table and kept jumping up on top of the laid out CD'S. I proceeded to take every single CD and play list out to lay out and let dry. The cat eventually got shut in a bedroom and C. Love went to Best Buy to buy some new sleeves. All this while my cough is getting progressively worse and I feel a fever coming on. We spent the next hour putting the CD'S in their new, dry sleeves and I put everything in the closet, shut the door, ate some dinner and went to bed.

Fast forward to Thursday at 1:23: I'm home sick again today and already called in for Friday. I've hit the Robitussin, can't stop sneezing and the woman comes over in 1/2 hour to pick up the fucking Cd's. I think I'll meet her outside so she doesn't have to come into the sick house. Man, what a way to end the winter. And on top of it all I wasn't even invited to the party... oh well. I'm done- good bye, I'm off for a nap as soon as she leaves.

Bad Butter

2008-03-10T17:28:00.005-07:00

I know there are more important things in life to discuss: like breaking up with your love or 'hooking up with a hottie' or quitting your job or losing your cat or hitting a pot hole and screwing up your alignment but I gotta complain about the bad butter I bought at the store. It's tainting all of my food like a bad smell permeating the air. It looked a little funky when I opened it but I needed it so desperately that I choose to ignore- and I now I suffer.

On Sunday I was making C. Love a birthday dinner (birthday was Sat) which consisted of fillet with a white wine herb sauce, twice baked MASHED POTATOES, roasted asparagus, some warmed bread, and some profiteroles with chocolate sauce for dessert. I had only one quarter of a stick of butter left after I made the profiteroles and I still had the entire dinner to make- not good planning on my part. I definitely needed more than 1/4 of a stick for mashed potatoes, a rich wine sauce and bread, so I ventured into the living room and told C. Love about my problem. Being her wonderful self, she offered to go to the convenient store for me and pick up a stick- great, but when she said "convenient store" I kind of froze in my tracks. I kind of think that if you're not a snack food, a newspaper, a cigarette, a soda, a Gatorade or maybe a box of tissues- you're never leaving that convenient store- I swear some of that food on those shelves has been there for years.

Anyway, to make a long story somewhat shorter, the butter C. Love bought that night was indeed bad... very bad. It looked odd to me on Saturday night but I let it slide. It smelled odd and it tasted a little funky in my mashed potatoes, but again- I let it slide. But tonight when I made Pasta Primavera it smelled and tasted bad again- that was it. Damn, a whole pound of butter and I had to throw it away. I looked at the date as I tossed it in the garbage. It said: Best if purchased by Jan 2008. Just as I suspected, don't ever buy butter in a convenient store- stick to the candy bars.

Trust me, I have many more important things to be discussing here but for some odd reason the butter thing got to me... So it leads me to this question: what are you putting on your toast- real butter or the fake stuff? (I bet the fake stuff never goes bad)

Inside out

2008-02-29T05:16:00.000-08:00

It's like I can definitely see it. I can feel it, hear it, experience it and sometimes taste it but I just can't seem to touch it- physically touch it. Not that anyone can actually physically touch any part of it, it's just that being in it's presence and interacting with it feels like touching it-kind of. I'm talking about blogging. I literally haven't had the time ti sit down a compose a post let alone venture out and make some visits to just say hello.

It feels like for the past month I've been stuck in a snowbank. Sure, I come out every day and do my thing but I always go right back every night and huddle up next to the warm interior with ice cold walls. Thankfully people bring me red wine and laughs and I'm able to loose myself in the idealism of American Idol and the headiness of Lost, but this winter thing is getting old. I can see the sun but it's so deceiving because it has zero warmth and it always goes away way too soon. I do venture out of the snow bank quite often but all I hear is other people talking about how much their snow bank sucks or how they've abandoned their snow banks for sand dunes. Fuck them- But...after it's all said and done, I've kind of -strangely- enjoyed my little snow hut this year. I've gotten tons of mail and people bring me cool projects. It has some great air, tons of space to exercise my mind, it's an awesome place to do some 'planting', it frees me up from any outside obligations and complications, it's loaded with great food and wine and it seems to be a very good shelter from all the elements... if you know what I mean. Hibernation is good, I get it now.

The problem is that life outside the snow bank feels so far away; it's right outside my door but for some reason whenever I try to get to it something happens. There's either a blizzard, a wind storm, wild animals or another phone call to bring me back inside. Life in the snow bank is good but I miss real life. I miss the grass, the blue ski, the warmth of the sun, the back and forth nonsense talk from the blogging world, the friendly hello's from strangers, the smiles on every one's face and the ease of life. There's so much to do in my snow bank and it's all good but I'm ready to get out. Starbucks closed their doors for three hours the other day to train their employees. I'd like to open my windows for more than one second to re-train my body to breathe the good air.

I stopped over at t2's place for a second the other day and she was mentioning how long the month of February felt. She's absolutely right, in the dead of winter time seems to stop. That last month felt like eternity. Today is that funky extra day in February. Great, one more day...

winter storm warning #56

2008-01-31T15:51:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know I am obsessed with the weather and can't stop complaining about this winter; it's been pretty rough here in Chicago so far with the fridgid temps and pesky snowstorms but this is fucking rediculous! I really wanted to go out tonight. I actually have cabin fever for the first time in my life and was looking forward to tonight- that's a huge deal, believe me. We had plans to head to a cool restaurant for cocktails with awesome food to meet up with a bunch of women (lesbos) for a professional networking thing. I rarely want to go out let alone socialize with a bunch of strangers but lately that's kind of all I want to do-it's strange. I'm all over the events with free apps, especially if they're good ones! Fuck, this sucks.

A couple of weeks ago we were invited to a cocktail party with free appetizers and FREE WINE, (that's right folks I said FREE WINE -for two solid hrs) at a new restaurant. We were at dinner there the week prior and we were approached by the marketing woman. She took our e-mails and said they had some private events coming up if we wanted to go. Hell yea! count me in for sure. That particular night was the bomb, with excellent food and endless bottles of wine from 7-9. My glass was never 1/2 empty and to make the evening even better, the woman walking around with the bottles (one in each hand) were hot- thank god the restaurant chose the good-looking ladies to work the room. Smart. One of them looked like Lindsay Lohan, back when the woman looked good. Anyway, that night it was also snowing and we almost backed out. Thank god we didn't...

It completely sucks when it snows but lately it's been snowing on every night we have plans! Most of the time we clear off the car and go but I always feel like I can't drink as much (if at all) and it's nerve racking getting home. Tonight we planned on going out up until the very last moment. Since I was driving and we had to pick up two other people and it had been snowing since 10 am and not expected to stop until tomorrow, I made the executive decision to not go. I'm glad we're not going, now we can watch Lost and drink where we are safe. It still sucks though and to make myself feel better I will continue to complain. It's an excellent subject to complain about. I'm off to get some vino. Cheers.

frost bite with a twist

2008-01-19T16:08:00.000-08:00

I'm all for going out to a cool bar for a cocktail or two but come on now, these type of places are absolutely ridiculous.

I was thinking about them as I sit here in the warmth of my home with my new found honkin bottle of red vino and a soft comfy couch. I think at noon today it was 2 degrees... 2.... When I ran into the bookstore from my parking spot my snot literally froze upon dripping. Now that's just totally wrong. I think the windchill tomorrow is supposed to feel like it's negative 20. NEGATIVE 20! yikes.

I want to know who the hell actually chooses to go to bars like these and why, and what's with the blanket on that ice couch- like that works? When I'm so cold I can't think, let alone open my mouth wide enough to get an alcoholic beverage down there. And to drink with mittens on?! These people scare me. Just please give me the Beachcomer in August. Actually, just give me some red wine and a warm body.

Januray woes

2008-01-10T18:04:00.000-08:00

Just a few random thoughts and observances I've noticed since the beginning of January

1. Women are never going to rule the world if lesbians can't get off the couch
2. The week after New Years has to be the worst week in the year
3. How can people think that 63 degrees in January in Chicago has absolutely nothing to with Global Warming
4. I wonder what would happen if i pods only came in only one color
5. How can someone who looks so gay claim they are straight?
6. Jeans with cuffs that are 6-8 inches on a suburban preppy woman with horrible shoes? That's high fashion?
7. Why isn't the Super Nanny all over that (Britany) Spears family?
8. Diet, exercise and New Years resolutions- don't bother.
9. Why the fuck aren't tampons free for women.
10. Why will some lesbians only choose to "go out" once a year to watch the factitious women of The L Word when they could have a cocktail and conversation with some 'real' ones the other 364 days. Again, that brings me back to #1... and I don't want to hear that you are "an old married couple", "a homebody", "just not looking" or "too tired". If you're dead that's ok but again... refer to #1 and get your ass out there.

I hope February is brighter-

all pooped out

2007-12-30T07:14:00.000-08:00

Warning, if you have bathroom/feces issues don't read on

OK, this is a disgusting horrible story but it's kind of funny too so here goes: To make a long story somewhat shorter we'll fast forward to last Thursday evening around 5 pm. We were driving back to Chicago from Boston and had made it to our hotel in Youngstown Ohio (10 hrs into the trip). After checking in and checking the cleanliness of the room we decided it was OK to stay so we put our bags down and continued on. I had to go to the bathroom for awhile but since I have an issue with germs and dirt and grime I made the decision to hold off until we got to our hotel where I would at least have some privacy. Since I didn't have time to thoroughly inspect the toilet, I placed toilet paper on the seat... just in case. I did what I had to do in there, came out and checked out the quality of the TV; C. love then went in the bathroom to pee. After all the peeing and pooping was done we headed out into town to get a bite to eat.

Two hours later: We walk back into the room and since I didn't want to use the restaurant's bathroom to pee, I went back into our bathroom to do just that. When I got in I noticed something in the toilet (I'm not going to spell out exactly what) and not thinking anything further I immediately flushed, but something told me that wasn't my poop in there and then proceeded to pee. A second after that I stormed out of the room and said to C. Love "you used the bathroom after me, right?" "yes" she said with confusion. " I mean you flushed, right?", "yes" she said again. ( now I'm starting to freak a little) "you mean you went in, just peed and flushed. "Yes, that's what I'm saying!" (she's getting angry now because I'm not explaining myself) "And there was nothing in the toilet when you went in?" She proceeded to explain how she knew there was only pee in the toilet after she peed because she was noticing the color of it. ( we take note of things like this regularly)

OK, at this point I'm completely stumped, totally confused and a little bit grossed out at what I'm thinking because what I'm imagining is either number 1: my poop came back up after two flushes which is totally bizarro and very unlikely or #2: someone else's poop came up through the pipes, which is totally disgusting, totally wrong and totally bizarro as well or #3: someone entered our room while we were out and used our bathroom, which is totally horrifying, completely disgusting, completely wrong, and completely unbelievable. But out of the three, in the moment, we chose to think it was either #1, or #2- even though we both knew it probably wasn't. Now I spent the next 5 minutes trying to think back to what my poop looked like... just in case it was scenario# 1- strange things can happen with plumbing, right? After going through all the possible explanations and accepting that maybe someone possibly came in and used the bathroom we checked our luggage, and belongings and then both did our best to just let it go and we hit the bed.

The next morning we went to fill up the tank for the next 7 hours home but our card was 'declined'. Not putting two and two together (the unknown person entering our room and a declined credit card and the fact that C. love had left her wallet in the room) we proceeded to call the credit card company and they told us it was probably just the station itself that had the problem. It wasn't until we got back into our home in Chicago, heard the messages from the fraud people, unpacked, played with the cat, went to the store and then talked to the fraud people that we were told that someone has been making charges on our card and the fraud people caught it. Then we froze and realized the same guy (or girl) who came into our room and relieved themselves in our bathroom could have also stolen the credit card number. We freaked out; I was completely grossed out and we both felt totally violated. Nothing was stolen from C. love's wallet and it could have been two totally separate instances but it's kind of coincidental- don't you think?

So fine, someone has stolen our credit card # and used it. And fine, someone entered our hotel room when we were out, pooped in our toilet and didn't flush. Whatever... we will get the money back, I still feel really dirty, and I'm extremely angry that both those things happened but whether they happened within the same night and by the same person or not- it still sucks. FUCK! what the hell?! here I am thinking that whoever came into our room was either 1.- mentally ill and just does this kind of thing or 2.- an employee who regularly does this kind of thing: goes into someones room, poops, and steals credit card numbers (or the other way around). What the fuck, is that like his "sign"? his poop?!

The whole situation is totally strange but in way very, very funny. And I'm glad I can laugh at it now, even though I feel like I still need to take 10 showers a day to cleanse myself of the bad guy in our bathroom. We think it was an isolated case, our identities are in check and from now on we leave the television on and "do not disturb sign" on the door whenever we leave our hotel room. What a way to end the year

baby, it's cold outside

2007-12-19T19:58:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling a bit of a draft these days and it's not necessarily because of the frigid temps outside -or maybe it is, I'm not quite sure. That's OK- Christmas time has a way of affecting different people in many funky ways. Most people are walking around in circles totally stressed out from all the mayhem or... depressed but I'm good because I'm just kind of sitting back under my tree watching the season go by.

Lately I've felt like I've been wrapped in blurry Christmas lights. Work has been crazy busy, so my long days have blended into even longer nights filled with too much red wine and mellow Christmas music but tis the season I guess, it's what I gotta do- Just chillin', literally watching the snow fall. Johnny Mathis and Nat King Cole have completely invaded my stereo system and gingerbread and truffles have happily replaced beer and pretzels. On the down side I've had way too much snow to shovel, windshields to scrape, parties to attend, cards to mail and people to call/e-mail and winter is in full force around here. I'm freezing, it always seems like it's dark outside and I'm tired as hell. But at the end of the day I always find a way to manage to relax-drink and eat and sleep like a baby. If the cards didn't get sent, people didn't get called and chores ignored it's all good because when you're walking around in a haze of Christmas lights nothing really matters.

The other day I was lying on my couch thinking about how my Dad used to make an awesome holiday Champagne punch for our "open house", Christmas Eve party every year. For some reason I just loved watching him make it; bottles of this, bottles of that, orange slices and a huge,cool chunk of ice in the middle of it. The punch was a hit and there was never any left at the end of the night. The deviled eggs were always wiped out too. Right now I'm staring at my mantle with all those photos of babies and children and families and I'm wondering if I would do the same if I had kids- I think not actually. I like cards, real cards.

On Saturday morning we fly out to Boston and then drive up to Maine. We'll stay in Maine until Christmas morning, and then drive back to Boston in time for Christmas dinner. We head back to Chicago 2 days after that and settle in for the end of the year. There will be no holiday punch or open house parties, but there will be lobster rolls, little kids, Christmas cheer, lots of love and probably snow- (I could do without the snow)

Merry Christmas to all- I hope the magic finds you.

Down for the count

2007-11-29T12:54:00.000-08:00

I got hit with a 'cold'. It's funny because I work with a lot of people who are constantly sick and our environment is like a friggin' petrie dish, all hot and moist and disgusting. There's little air, a lot of dust and mold and a lot of people spreading their germs around. I'm usually able to fend off any potential threat by washing my hands constantly, walking in the opposite direction when someone sneezes, and I drink plenty of water but for some reason my defenses decided to take a baby time out. Bottom line here is I rarely get sick, actually I think the last time I got sick was exactly one year ago -that's weird. Anyway a couple of months ago I managed to avoid getting sick even when C.love was blowing and sneezing and coughing and dripping all over the place- I'm not surprised I got hit this time around, I mean I've been feeling like I need a break so I probably just allowed myself to give in. Maybe I'll call in sick tomorrow too, who knows.

Today all I did was get the cats nails trimmed, get my own hair trimmed, watch the food network, eat a grilled cheese sandwich and thought about things I would put on my 'wish list', just as t2 did. I was also trying to catch up on some blogs, since I've pretty much disengaged myself from the whole blogging process lately. I just haven't had the desire to hear about anyone elses life, or indulge their narcissistic tendencies; after all isn't that really why we all fucking blog? I've focused on a couple of things over the past month or so about blogging that have turned me off (or in the case of #1-on:

1. I'm strangely drawn to someones blog if I find out from a photo they are damn good-looking

2. I immediately get off someones blog when the post goes on and on and on and on... Sometimes I'll just scroll down to the last sentence to find out what the hell they're talking about.

3. I'm rarely interested in reading about a straight woman's world- it's usually boring as hell

4. I love when people comment back to every comment left on their post. It's like saying "thank you"

5. (this one I've hated from the beginning) When people write a post, ask questions and then don't respond to any answers- they just move on to another post.

6. I miss my creativity- I seem to have lost it in the wind over the years

So as far as my so called wish list goes for this year I've realized Amazon doesn't actually sell everything under the sun- go figure. I mean you can't but jeep wranglers there, or real estate or puppies or huge kitchens with wood burning fireplaces or more intuition or olive oil- know what I'm saying? I want an unlimited supply of wine, beer and olive oil for Christmas and I'm thinking they don't have that at amazon.com. I want cash to buy whatever the hell I want and I want to know where I'm going to be living in a year from now. I want to perfect my cooking skills, hook up with someone else and cook like crazy for other people and I want my own beach house to kick back in.

I actually like being home sick, I can just sit and think-without pressure. Random thoughts float in and float out. C.Love just walked in with the mail and I got something I wanted and have been waiting for, my t-shirt from Cisco Brewers-they rock. I'll take some of their beer for Christmas, or how about a weekend trip over there to drink it on the premises, now that would be a good gift...

Cheers

2007-11-21T05:42:00.000-08:00

I can't wait for Thursday. Happy day to everyone; enjoy the food, the wine , the company and the day off. I'm making a new sausage stuffing this year... yummy in my tummy! We got wine, we got olives, we got some cheese, we got popovers, we got creamed onions, we got buttery mashed potatoes, we got some squash, we got a big ass turkey, we got delicious fresh green beans with some almonds, we got hard cider, we got time to cook and time to eat and time to give thanks. We'll do all that with no problem. Again, I can't wait. Cheers to all!

getting aligned

2007-11-19T04:38:00.000-08:00

June 18, 2007 Where The Soul Is
Finding The Place You Belong

"There will likely be times in your life when your soul evolves more quickly than your circumstances. Your subconscious mind may be ready to move forward long before you recognize that you are destined to embrace a new way of life. "...

Phew- sometimes it helps to have someone else explain what you're feeling.

human decency

2007-11-13T05:18:00.000-08:00

Why does it seem like people loose their manners when they become an adult. Shit, I know more 5 year olds who have more human decency than some 35 year olds do. Here's an example of what I'm talking about:

Last weekend we invited a couple over for dinner on saturday night. They responded via e-mail with " Yes, sounds like fun! we'd love to come. Do you think we can make it an early dinner because we (the boyfriend and I) want to try to catch a show later that night (band at a pub). Do you guys want to come along?"

My immediate response when I heard this was well forget it, I'm taking the invitation back because that's fucking rude. Then I calmed down, decided to rise above and be the adult here; we invited, they accepted so I will serve drinks and cook. I'm just saying first of all if you have something to do that night you either don't accept the invitation or you say "we'd love to but we have tickets to a show later that night. PERIOD. If the person throwing the dinner party wants to then say "oh that's ok, we can do an early dinner"-then that's ok. Do you know what I'm saying?! Anyway, they came, they drank, they ate, we talked, we laughed and it was all good.

After they left, c. love and I went out to meet up with a friend for some more wine so in the end it was all good. I don't like guests to overstay their welcome anyway so an "early dinner" was actually good for me. But I still think it was rude.

In and out...

2007-11-08T15:06:00.000-08:00

and I'm not talking about the burger chain, although I wish I were. We flew in to California last Wednesday morning and out again on Sunday morning. Our purpose was to experience the area and try to determine a potential place to live- we did, and we didn't. Within those five days we probably experienced more emotion, excitement, fear, anxiety, confusion, and growing than we would have had in five months of therapy, but in the end I hate to say the trip wasn't anything like we had anticipated and everything we hadn't and it kind of sucks.

Lucky for me I was born and brought up in a house where my parents actually loved me. They told me they loved me, kept me safe and secure, never abused me, hugged and kissed me every day and night, literally tucked me into bed when I was little, read to me, played with me, made me feel important, taught me about good and bad, allowed me to grow at my own pace, didn't smother me with their own stuff and gave me stability- solid stability. They did everything I believe parents should do, but as we all know that isn't always the case. I consider myself very lucky. I also consider myself cursed. Cursed because as I've learned over the years and more so since I've evolved into the adult that I am that all of that stability I had when I was young has in a way kept me from growing and is making it more difficult for me to accept change- now in my life. What does my stable childhood have to do with moving to California? Well, I'm having a real hard time thinking about uprooting my life here in Chicago and letting go of all the comforts, security, knowledge and familiarity that I have, to go to a place where the exact opposite will exist. We are not familiar with California, have no connections out there, don't know our way around and personally I don't really feel like learning it all- it's a pain.

I've only moved once in my life. Besides living away at college for four years and living in two separate apartments in Boston, I've lived- really lived in only two I'll say 'homes' my whole life. My house, where I grew up and this apartment for the last 11 years. As a kid, I lived with the constant knowing that the bedroom I was sleeping in and the house we were living in was as solid as the cement and bricks that surrounded us. Let's just say I slept very, very soundly. I never had to deal with multiple schools, moving from place to place or making new friends so my mind never had to go there. unlike myself, if you are a kid who was never really loved or or is used to living in fear and instability, moving as an adult would probably have little effect on you. As a matter of fact it would probably feel more comfortable because it's what you were used to. Not so much for me.

Being in California last week was anything but a vacation for us both. We actually felt like we were working and went to bed every night as if the next day was another work day with lots to accomplish. Who looks forward to work. Every morning the maps came out, gas tank filled, and minds set on overdrive. We visited each town not with amazement, joy and relaxation but instead with our guards up, our spidey sense activated and our focus on 'do we fit in'. It's really hard to visit an unfamiliar place with thoughts that you may be living there someday. Live- really live there. It's like all of a sudden being a lefty instead of a righty or vice verse- you know? confusion, awkwardness and feeling discomfort runs rampant. Issues came up, arguments ensued, and our relationship took a beating. All because the both of us were freaked- out of our minds that we were actually thinking of moving to California and there we were in the middle of the process. Yikes. In the end nothing felt perfect- not the weather, not the roads, not the people and not any town we visited. There were glimpses of joy and sighs of relief here and there but when we got home we felt beaten and discouraged. Places were either too much or too little; too big or too small; too beautiful and fake or too crappy and unattractive. Nothing felt normal- nothing. Do we let go of our dream to live in a warm climate with beauty and joy surrounding us or do we throw in the towel and stay put here in Chicago- who knows. Moving back East is an option but it just doesn't feel like the right one- not yet. All I kept saying on the trip was "why is it so damn hard to get what you want". This whole thing is so difficult from every angle but know we are stuck because we started the ball rolling and we can't really go back. That's the thing with change, inviting change and growing- no one ever said it was easy but everyone always says it's worth it. Shit, just get me to the other side.

I sure would love to be zapped back to childhood where my decisions were monitored, my mistakes were fixed and my mind was like a sponge. And the safety of my bedroom was just steps away from the safety of my whole little life. Or at the very least back in California, sitting down in the sun eating an In and Out burger.

The sweetest

2007-10-29T04:56:00.000-07:00

without a net

2007-10-27T14:53:00.000-07:00

As expected, this whole "move" thing has brought up some of my issues and at this moment (unfortunately) continues to wreck havoc on my relationship and in turn has forced us to cancel our dinner plans for the evening.

I was just aimlessly scrolling through a bunch of old e-mails and I came across one that oddly enough hit the spot, calmed me down a bit (enough to attempt a post) and will thankfully allow me to trudge on with my process. My fear around this move or should I say 'fear of the unknown' has almost paralyzed me from making any attempt to move forward around it and instead has totally allowed the naysayer that lives inside of me to completely- 100% not only take over my mind but allow those stupid words to come out of my mouth as well. I've been wanting some 'proof' that everything will be ok for us in California especially after last weeks horrific events unfolded and since it's impossible to receive that, I've been living in a pretty bad place lately. My all knowing, strong, inner self knows we will be better than ok in California but that fucking negative voice always seems to win. I gotta find a way to put that thing on the bench and start letting the other guys play. So as some of you (or most of you) can attest to, when the negative voice rules our little world we tend to stay stuck in the gloom and doom and frolic in misery instead of embracing the potential joy of change.

Anyway, through the e-mail I came across "Today's Daily" and thought I'd share it with you all in case anyone else is entertaining the naysayer tonight instead of fun, human contact.

father knows best(?)

2007-10-16T04:58:00.000-07:00

Like most dads, my dad has said a lot of things to me in our lifetime together- some good, some not so good, some just plain silly and some very meaningful but one thing he and my mom continually expressed was 'if you don't have anything nice to say to someone, don't say anything at all'. For some reason those words stuck and wouldn't it be nice if I could say I have lived my whole life abiding by that phrase- but (head down) I can't. As much as I hate to admitt it, I have said some hurtful, mean things to people in the course of my life time, and I do regret that. But I can honestly say that ever since I've "grown up" my track record has shown more silence than anything and I try to be aware of saying the nice things whenever I think or feel them- which is quite often.

My point of all this is that on Friday when we were on our way up to Minnesota to that wedding we made a pit stop at a McDonald's in Wisconsin to pee and we encountered a dad who obviously didn't drink the same kool-aid my parents drank. As C.Love and I were walking in one door this cheese head man and his little 6 year old son were walking out the other door. As soon as we stepped inside we hear- Don't ever talk to a lesbian, (pause) they all suck. I heard the words but couldn't seem to process them as quickly as C. love could (I was still in my morning fog) because she immediately responded with(as he was walking out the door) " thanks for that- we're lesbians" . I heard him, I heard her and I looked at the little kid- who was looking up at us. This whole interaction happened very quickly, like within 4 seconds but it lingered with me all weekend- just as McDonald's does. After C. Love blurted us 'out', the guy didn't miss a beat, didn't turn around to see who was speaking and responded with I don't care. He doesn't care- what a shock.

I was still processing the comment when I walked out of the restroom and remember saying to C. Love "there must be a "lesbian" behind the counter..." but all the while thinking what the hell? what kind of comment was that to let alone speak out loud but to say to your 6 year old?! I was honestly shocked this guy was actually saying those words, they didn't make sense- I realize we were in Wisconsin, but come on now! what the fuck! I don't get it. He's six!! After the shock and then the anger wore off, the sadness hit. I realize there are other people besides this man in Wisconsin that feel this way but thankfully I don't hear it too often because when I do it sets me back somewhat-

We got back in the car and C. Love came to the conclusion that this guy was problably married to one (a lesbo)or not married to one anymore- one can only hope. All I kept thinking was I hope that little guy only listens to his dad with one ear. Some words stick, hopefully those nine won't.

road trip

2007-10-12T04:11:00.000-07:00

In about 45 minutes we have to get in the car and drive for 9 fucking hours. We're off to lame- ass Minnesota for a wedding. Everyone says "oh, pretty!" when I say Minnesota. Pretty? I say- for nine hours?! Pretty might be OK for two- not nine. Anyway, we drive up, go to the "grooms dinner" Friday night, wedding on Saturday and drive nine hours back on Sunday. That's my weekend.

Minnesota is fine but if I hand you a map and showed you exactly where in MN we will be you'd understand why I'm not looking forward to it all that much. How people live in the middle of nowhere as if they're stuck back in 1970 is beyond me. It's called a no frills weekend, that's for sure. In a way that's kind of refreshing, it was easy to choose a hotel because there was only two to choose from- Holiday or Comfort. We'll be in Willmar... if anyone knows where the hell that is.

So it's banquet tables, tradition and meat for dinner for me for the next 2 days- At least there's cable in the room so I can catch the Red Sox when we get back to the room tonight.

moving on

2007-10-02T08:13:00.000-07:00

We've lived in Chicago for 11 years now, before that it was Boston for 32 and now we are off to California (city not determined yet) for the next phase. This next chapter feels like it could possibly be the most significant, meaningful, fulfilling and happiest yet, but only time will tell. You know it's funny but when we first moved here to Chicago we didn't know anyone, we were kind of unfamiliar with 'the lesbian community' and I started this blog in hopes of getting connected with some lesbians out here. Well, I did get connected with some other women- some lesbians, some not and some not so much but sometimes on weekends... I made some solid connections with friends from the blogging world as well but now It's time to start the whole process over again in a whole new city. Man, it sounds exhausting.

So here I sit in the comfort zone of my own home thinking about starting the process again. The thought of it is exciting but anxiety provoking at the same time. We wouldn't have made this decision if we weren't convinced at a much deeper more powerful level that it was the right thing to do. It's hard to think about leaving because we have built so much stability here over the last ten years: I have neighbors I trust my house key with, numerous friends I could call on a moments notice, a stable job with benefits up the wazoo, local coffee shops and liquor stores that know me and say hello as soon as I walk in, a mechanic and vet we trust whole heartedly, a house full of furniture and we have a very convenient, easy life on top of it all. On one hand it's so easy to stay and so tumultuous to leave but staying would equal stopping and leaving feels like growing- so we go.

We're going to California because we've been talking about it for years now. Plus they have the weather we crave, the food we love, the lifestyle we lead, the attitude we want surrounding us, the good spas C.Love can connect with, the beauty we prefer to look at and the ocean air that feeds our souls. But the real reason we're heading out to CA is because we know it's part of the puzzle, our whole life puzzle-(or path). As scary as this whole move is, it is overwhelmingly calming at the same time, it's kind of creepy. California is unfamiliar to us so we want to make sure we end up in the right area. You know... a lesbian friendly area... with cool shops and restaurants and stuff. Good luck to us, right?

So here goes, move #2. We are headed out to Long Beach at the end of October to check out the area, so if anyone out there can recommend a few potential places to live please enlighten me. One of my firsts posts was about the lesbian scene in Chicago and "a Lesbian in Los Angeles" had a few words to say but I need waaaaaaaaaaaay more. My biggest issue right now is trying to figure out how to tell people not to give us anything when we throw a huge going away party in December to say goodbye; (nothing except wine gift certificates that is)that and bringing our cat on the plane. I can feel this blogging thing will be used for a lot more than chit chat over the next 3 months so I'm warning you all now. A lot is going to come up for me and hopefully I'll see you on the other side -in sunny, warm California. Cheers.

the end

2007-09-03T15:25:00.000-07:00

How depressing is today? on a scale of 1-10 it's up there pretty damn far. Labor Day completely sucks; how anyone can have a party and celebrate the day is beyond me. Next year I'm having a party though- not to celebrate, but to commiserate. Maybe it'll just be more of a celebration that summer actually exists- period.

a slice of my life

2007-08-28T16:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I like to do multiple things at the same time. For example, most mornings I'm "Media Multitasking"-you know, watching TV, surfing the Web, reading the morning paper etc, etc. Add to this an occasional ball toss to the kitty with coffee in hand and my conscious awareness is literally all over the place, and I'm good with that. I assume the majority of people multitask throughout the day and for most of their lives but besides the morning routine I prefer to do things one step at a time. I actually prefer less stimuli in general in life- in every situation. I've informally diagnosed myself as an HSP . I really do HATE: loud noises, bright lights and 'smells'. I am an extremely intuitive person and get annoyingly overwhelmed when I have tons to do, say or respond to with little room to think. I enjoy Mr. Rogers and the game of baseball for the same reason- they're both slow and easy to focus on.

So as much as I attack situations with the long, slow approach, when it comes to cooking and drinking I'm multitasking like a pro. Monday evening was a good example of how my stream of consciousness went from practically comatose to hyper-aware in a matter of minutes. It all started when I made the decision to finish my 2007 summer CD and pour myself a glass of wine. Within that next hour and 1/2 or so, not only did I complete and listen to my mix, but I grilled a steak, roasted potatoes and asparagus, had an online conversation with a realtor about an outdoor shower, made a red wine sauce for the steak, ate olives, cheese and bread, played a game of hide and seek with the kitty and drank the entire bottle of red wine. Yes, entire bottle- with no hesitation. Now if that's not productive multitasking, I don't know what is. I went from living room to grill to stove, to living room- to bathroom to kitchen and back again. My senses were alive and I was focused and alert. I had a goofy smile on my face when C. Love walked in at around 7:30. First she told me it smelled good in there, then she said, "what are you smiling at?", I told her it was because I made an awesome sauce- she said "you're drunk" and walked into the other room to change. Ok, so I admit it, I drank the whole damn bottle (minus 3/4 of a cup for the awesome sauce) but the stuff was good and my shut off valve was lost when thoughts of that outdoor shower on Cape Cod came rushing in. Needless to say, the meal was delicious (I think)but conversation was a little rough around the edges and sleep wasn't as dream like as it usually is.

The next morning I was a little slow on the uptake but I actually found Mr. Rogers on TV to watch and my paper was delivered late so it was just me and my coffee and the couch. When I came home from work and C.Love asked me how my day was all I could think about was how I struggled through the day because I drank that whole bottle of wine- but I was good. I wouldn't have changed a thing. Wine, music and cooking? what more could I ask for- besides a whole lot more of that wine... Cheers- not so much to the end of summer with the dreaded Labor Day coming up but more so to the start of something new... and inspiration.

club victoria

2007-08-17T04:26:00.000-07:00

Every so often we receive 10 dollar gift type cards from Victoria's Secret and sometimes they have a 'free panty' offer attached to it. Just for the record, the word "panty" is on my list of words I hate. We got one of those cards while we were away and C.love wanted the free thing so since the store is close to where I work, I offered to pick her up a pair- no problem.

The store had recently been remodeled but I had no idea it was it was going to take on the look and feel of what it did. As soon as I joined the throngs of people piling through the revolving door and made my way inside I was immediately blown away by not only the size of the place but with the electric atmosphere as well. Amazing. I stood there glancing around trying to figure out which way to go but nowhere out there, in that huge sea of bras and panties was there any indication that what I was looking for would be easy to find. (I was also in there for a new racer back bra in my newly discovered size-32D) All I saw was thousands and thousands of colorful, shiny, sparkly, glittery, lacy-things. And plenty of panties and pink dogs flying around- Madonna was blasting over the sound system, the floor was shaking and people were running through the place like it was Grand Central Station. I decided to follow the woman who had said hello to me when I first walked in, to ask her where I could find what I was looking for. She led me over to the farthest corner in the store and as we took the long stroll I was thinking two things: 1. why the hell am I always interested in things that are on the fringe and 2. where's Giselle Bundchen?! (it felt like there should have been a runway somewhere around there)

As we made our way through the store on route to the racerback bras, I couldn't honestly believe how much the place resembled a night club! Shit, there were flashing lights, beautiful (and not so beautiful ) people milling around, glitter, boobs, shiny things, loud thumping music and video screens... well, I'm not sure about the video screens but if there wasn't, there should have been. It was amazing and might I add brilliant. But I don't understand how there can be so many different types of bras and panties out there, and then I think- are the people buying and wearing all this stuff wearing it all the time? Because if the outer clothes don't reflect what's under them it all seems just a little wrong. You know? How about instead of paying 50$ plus for your bra, you dish out half that for a decent pair of jeans- that's what we're looking at, not your undies. Whatever.

When we finally made it over to the corner I asked her if she had the bra in 32D, and she looked at me and said "NO". Damn!, all that for nothing. Then I asked her if there were any bras in the night club that were in 32D, she again said "no, I'm sorry it's just not a popular enough size, you must be one of the lucky few, narrow in the rib cage?". "Yeah" I said. I'm thinking- LUCKY? I don't call this lucky if I can't find my size in Victoria's closet! I was so distracted by the nightclub atmosphere that I totally forgot to ask where the free panties were, but I managed to flag down the next head phone woman that walked by and she led me over to the bin. I was waiting for Justin Timberlake to come dancing in from the dressing room but no such luck. To make a long story short: I had ZERO success. No free panty, no bra, no nothing. I waked out empty handed and defeated.

I was thinking they should install a bar in the back corner and then nobody would leave empty handed. Plus it would totally complete the scene.. music, a runway, a bar- know what I'm saying? I'd definitely go there for a drink- if it was offered. But now I think I'll shop exclusively on line and drink at my own place- it's just easier . Victoria's place was a little frightening for a Thursday night.

my (future) summer home

2007-08-14T15:57:00.000-07:00

I need some cash, cold hard cash because I want to buy something that at this exact moment I can't really afford. Or should I say is a little above my price range. It's a house- on Cape Cod. But it's way more than that; it's actually a house on The National Seashore in Wellfleet. There's a particular home in the same area that I'm more interested in but it isn't even up for sale. I have the woman in charge of these cottages asking the owner if they are willing to sell. Here's the thing, I'm tired of wanting and waiting- I can't take it anymore.

Ever since we got back from vacation we've started to adopt a new philosophy of just doing (whatever it is we want to do) and the rest will take care of itself. This requires a huge amount of faith and trust: that the universe will ultimately give you exactly want you deserve and desire. We are all in control of our own lives and a lot of the times I know fear and or crap gets in our way and holds us back. it's actually the philosophy of The Secret, or of the Law of Attraction. It's for real and it works. I have tons of faith, but it's a bit frightening all the same.

So I need some greenery, anyone got any they want to invest in something?
The path behind the house looks like this:
And then it's just steps away from this:

If we buy, we plan on renting it out to friends and family with the exception of a couple of weeks in July reserved for us. It's just a cottage we're looking for; a summer cottage to generate some additional income... for now. After that- who knows. It's just a beach house, it can't be all that difficult to get- right? If I could just find a way...

occupied

2007-08-08T04:47:00.000-07:00

Something extremely horrifying happened to me on the plane to Boston last week; horrifying and when I made my way back to the seat I told C.Love the event was "traumatic"-it was that bad.

Let me preface this story by admitting how much of a freak I am about germs, germs in general: spit, sneezes, mucous, sweat, smells, shopping cart handles, salad bars etc. Public restrooms put me on major alert as do crowds when there's no air in the room and kindergarten classes. I manage to never touch my hands to my eyes and or mouth during the day and I wash my hands before and after I pee. (my thoughts are turning to the whizzy) I wouldn't call myself obsessive or compulsive at all, but I will say I think I am more concerned about germs and human waste than most of the general public is, I admit I have a problem. I'm in and out of a public restroom faster than a little boy in a bush but when it comes to airplanes I'm lost,confused, trapped and helpless. In my mind germs are just flying rampant all over that cabin and when someone sneezes?!, shit I just hold my breath and crank that air knob overhead. It's all I got. I don't drink anything before flying just because I want to avoid that bathroom at all costs- I can't stand going into that little room, it freaks me out. Morning flights are tough because of the need for coffee, but I try to get it all out before we board or if there's any left I'll hold it for as long as I can. (I know it's not good to hold it) Once inside that door and body turned around my mind is on nothing other than releasing and bolting- get me the hell out.

Last week, I don't know what happened, but I had to pee so I made the trek down the aisle. We had a good hour and a half left before reaching another bathroom so I figured I should go. And I did, with little interference; the trauma occurred as soon as I leaned over to flush... When I turned around to hit the button with my foot, my glasses fell off my shirt and landed straight into the fucking hole. The black (or toilet bowl disinfectant blue) hole. In that loud, flushing suction moment I froze. In what seemed like a solid 10 minutes, but was only probably 3 seconds between the flush and the end of the flush I watched my glasses go down... and come back up again. My first thought was shit because they were my only pair of glasses (I don't wear contacts) and I planned on driving a lot, then I thought-shit- THEY ARE STILL ALIVE? There they were sitting right there- wedged over the hole, I had to go in and get them. Wait a minute, GO IN AND GET THEM?!! But they were right there, just an arm's length away. With no time to panic, I held my breath, blocked out the thought of what I was doing and pulled them out. I picked the glasses out with 2 fingers and immediately tossed them onto the sink. I had no idea what was happening at this point but I managed to wrap them in a paper towel, wash my hands and get the hell out of there.

As I approached my seat at 14 D, C. Love looked up at me and said, "are you all right?" I said "no, I just had a very, very traumatic experience", then continued to recreate the toilet scene. She laughed and I wanted to cry. I sat there with my hands stretched out for the next 20 minutes, thinking I had some disgusting fungus growing on them. When the drink lady came by to ask if I wanted anything, all I could think of was a wet-nap. That would have been pretty nice at that point but she didn't have one. Figures, all she had were liquids.

So what's the deal? has this type of thing ever happened to anyone else? Have you ever lost anything down the airplane toilet?

(There was zero damage to the glasses by the way... amazing.)

Duh

2007-08-04T22:05:00.000-07:00

They needed a study from Washington to figure this out?! Come on now...

Updated: 6:19 p.m. CT July 31, 2007.-Lust trumps love when it comes to having sex
Study finds there aren’t many gender differences in reasons for intimacy

WASHINGTON - After exhaustively compiling a list of the 237 reasons why people have sex, researchers found that young men and women get intimate for mostly the same motivations.
It’s more about lust in the body than a love connection in the heart.
College-aged men and women agree on their top reasons for having sex — they were attracted to the person, they wanted to experience physical pleasure and “it feels good,” according to a peer-reviewed study in the August edition of Archives of Sexual Behavior. Twenty of the top 25 reasons given for having sex were the same for men and women.

Men's top 10 reasons:

1. I was attracted to the person.
2. It feels good.
3. I wanted to experience physical pleasure.
4. It’s fun.
5. I wanted to show my affection to the person.
6. I was sexually aroused and wanted the release.
7. I was “horny.”
8. I wanted to express my love for the person.
9. I wanted to achieve an orgasm.
10. I wanted to please my partner.

Women's top 10 reasons:
1. I was attracted to the person.
2. I wanted to experience physical pleasure.
3. It feels good.
4. I wanted to show my affection to the person.
5. I wanted to express my love for the person.
6. I was sexually aroused and wanted the release.
7. I was “horny.”
8. It’s fun.
9. I realized I was in love.
10. I was “in the heat of the moment.”

Bottom line? it's all about the senses baby. Just get those juices flowing- whatever it takes.

sucks

2007-08-02T20:14:00.000-07:00

It totally sucks going back to 'life' after vacation. I don't do it well and should have taken today off from work also... but I didn't.

gone fishin'

2007-07-25T04:39:00.000-07:00

It's actually just a little over 1000 miles from where I sit right now and in less than 7 hours I'll be a mere 37 miles away. Yippee.

I'm off to spend a week of sun and fun on the beaches of Cape Cod and the taxi comes in about 1 1/2 hours. Why the hell is it that before you leave for vacation to do basically absolutely nothing, the week before is loaded with enough miscellaneous crap to keep you busy from morning til night. This is the first 'free' time I've had for awhile. (and it's not really free because this is the last thing I should be doing-I still have to finish packing).

Anyway, I'm off to Harwichport for a few days and then Brewster for a few more. In between is P-town. It'll be family time, beach time, fresh fish time, National Seashore time and so much more I can't even describe. If you've been there you totally understand and if not... I'm sorry. I'm out!- Later.

curb it

2007-07-17T08:29:00.000-07:00

The other night I came home from work and sat down at my dining room table with a beer; that little picture is not anything that I haven't done a thousand times before but for some reason the beer that night had a really bad aftertaste. As I sat there thinking about the day, I heard some loud voices coming from the park across the street (this also is not so unusual) and noticed a group of people sitting on the curb with their feet in the street. There was a cute little girl around age 3 with awesome pigtails that stuck straight out from the side of her head, a boy about age 7, and three women around 30 ish or so -oh and a little chiuaua dog. They were just hanging out talking but my 'spidey sense' told me something wasn't right with them and sure enough I was correct.

Even though they may have looked and sounded completely out of place in this neighborhood, I was trying to tell myself they were probably just "having fun", so I sat back down and finished my beer. Soon enough they got louder and louder and began to create a scene for everyone in the park. Since they were pretty much right outside my window, I stood up to see what the hell they could be doing; again, they weren't actually doing anything- just hanging- strangely on the curb. Then I heard someone yell " you gotts go the to da bafroom?!" the little 3 year old voice whispered back "yes" (as if she was sorry). I watched as the mother immediately grabbed the little kid by the arm, practically lifting her off the ground saying "come on, we'll go over here" but looking around realizing there was no place to hide. No place but behind the trash can that is- the trash can that is practically on the sidewalk. Now I've peed in my share of strange and public places in my lifetime but not when I was three and not because my mom had taken me to an unfamiliar neighborhood without a car to take us back home with. (I'm just saying there was a bunch of bushes a mere 20 feet away) Ok, whatever. The little kid proceeded to do her thing behind the trash can as the 7 year old boy did his best to alert the public that this was happening. Now I understand this event won't scar her at all and she probably didn't really care where she peed but for some reason it bothrered me; then I heard her mother yell, while dragging her over to the trash can, " she's gots to learn somehow- this will make her a woman". Ok, now I could feel my anger coming up through my chest. Ahhh, learn what first of all- that her mom is an idiot or that it's ok to pee on the sidewalk in public- what exactly is the lesson here. I don't think peeing by a trash can has anything to do with womanhood but that's just me-I let that comment go but the whole scene wasn't sitting well with me- again, spidey sense...

I decided to leave the dining room at this point because it wasn't doing me any good watching this. As I tried to settle back down with another beer, I heard the little chiuaua dog barking incessantly and then heard my neighbors voice- what the fuck. I grabbed my beer in frustration and looked out the window to see what was going on, again nothing- still just sitting on the curb, talking to my neighbor who was walking her huge Siberian Husky. That's why the chiuaua was freaking out. I watched for a minute because I wanted to see the husky and the chuaua interact, it would have been funny but I never saw that- the strangers didn't want to get off the curb. What transpired was horrible to see: the woman holding the chiuaua was choking her dog with the lease and continually whacking it with her shoe because it wouldn't stop barking. Yeah, that's right the dog was barking... duh. I'm telling you she was whacking that dog non stop. With every swat the dog flew a couple inches and it went on and on and on. Watching someone violently hit a dog, really hard kills me. I honestly don't know what stopped me from physically going outside to ask her politely what the fuck her problem was, but I didn't.

Witnessing the abuse of a dog or a child is the one thing that could potentially turn my own anger into uncontrollable rage. Most of the time I have to quickly turn away from the scene for fear of what I could say or do, but mostly I turn away because it upsets me so much. I can't physically stand it. If I actually sensed any child or animal was being abused to the point of no return believe me I would intervene. This particular event wasn't all that horrible, it wasn't good but we've all seen much, much worse. I'm just saying if she's treating her little mini dog like that I don't want to know what's going on with pigtail girl- no thanks, can't go there.

After seeing this, the next day I read a very disturbing post by maria out there in Nebraska- not a good way to relax with a beer on a warm, sunny summer day.

butt ugly

2007-07-13T05:23:00.000-07:00

The one and only reason I can't wait until January 2008 is because this is when the Smoke-Free Illinois Act will take effect. I'm so fucking tired of coming home after a night out smelling like smoke; it's bad enough that I reek of alcohol but couple that with stale cigarette smell and It makes me feel like a big fat bar boozer.

I hate smoking. I hate smoke, the smell of smoke, the look of a cigarette, ash trays and smokers breath. Unlike so many people, I don't find smoking to be sexy or "cool"- believe me I could name about a thousand other things that I would allow the coolness label to be attached to. I also find it annoying and somewhat rude when smokers file outside during a party (regardless of the weather) because they need a hit- and they never seem to go alone. Smoking seems old school, totally addictive instead of enjoyable, dirty and just plain stupid if you ask me.

I don't care that people smoke as long as they never come out of their house or car to do it. Now if I could only get a loud talking act to pass, I'd be good to go.

NOT sexy

2007-07-08T20:18:00.000-07:00

Can someone please enlighten me and explain why 9 out of 10 women who wear thongs are overweight and insist on either wearing pants that are too low or too tight for their bodies? It can't be comfortable, right? Plus colored thong, white pants?- what the fuck is this?!

I don't get it, I mean it's not sexy or attractive to see the thong sticking up 6, 7, 8 inches higher than the jeans... what's the deal?

summer's soft spot

2007-07-03T18:54:00.000-07:00

I seem to be completely saturated in the haze of summer lately. Ever since that Summer Solstice weekend my mind has completely gone on break, as it did years ago when school would let out. The only difference now is that instead of flagging the ice cream truck down or playing 'kick the can' until dusk I'm watching time go by as if I have nothing else to do for the rest of my life.

I've been lost in the moment of what it's like when the morning light turns to afternoon sun or when early evening turns into full fledged night time-that time period when you happen to be just talking or watching or reading or sitting and in what feels like a split second, the world outside has completely changed. Lost in the moment. I'm worried that in two months from now I'm going to wake up and be blindsided by the fact that the calendar now says September. Summer is like a drug, but in addition to the natural intoxication it gives me, add on top of that my usual consumption of alcohol and I'm pretty much checked out-period.

Being lost in the heat of the sun and heat of the moment, whether the moment consists of lust, love or time is all good. I can't quite figure out why blogging has gotten lost in all of this haze though. What always felt like such a concrete force seems to have melted away - temporarily...

summer solstice

2007-06-21T05:35:00.000-07:00

Six months from now I'll be willing to give up my pinky finger for today's date: June 21. Not because it'll be four days before Christmas but more so because my thoughts from December-March are focused on one thing- summertime.

I don't know what I'm thinking but if there's any day of the year I should be throwing a party it's today. But I'm not. Not only is it the longest fucking day of the year and the official kick-off to summer but it's also Thursday (Thursday's rock) and around here it's Pride weekend. Summer has a certain feel to it and the fact that it only lasts three short months has got to mean something in the big picture, but I have no idea what; all I know is it's way too short of a season. I want to see the sun, feel the heat, hear the stillness in the air, bask in the energy and throw my winter jacket in a corner in the closet. The next three months are pretty much the closest thing to a guarantee that temperatures will be 70 or above. I'd like to be able to take the next three months off of work and just do nothing because that's what you're supposed to do in the summer; sit and wait... and drink lemonade. I actually think that today should be a national holiday- everyone, whether they like summer or not could find some benefit to "summertime".

I hope everyone out there has a fabulous summer. I hope it's not too hot for those who hate the heat and not too cool for those who want to sweat. So happy summer solstice everyone and happy "Pride". Cheers.

I'm just saying

2007-06-18T19:31:00.000-07:00

Monday Night's "I'm just..."

1. What the hell is it with America's fascination with "William" and "Harry"?

2. Lemon-Lime Gatorade

3. But I like to 'give'... usually (sex)

4. Try it on french fries (mustard)

5. I would if I could t2

6. We better be riding on it instead of walking next to it (the fire engine at the Pride Parade)

7. It's the Red Sox

8. Because there's nothing on (TV)

9. You might want to close the door

10. Fuck, I just don't feel like talking to him tomorrow

11. Cus she's hot!

12. I need to stand up (when I think)

13. It's because it's warm out

14. We can if you want...

15. I didn't even have one beer tonight

Exactly(?)

2007-06-14T08:59:00.000-07:00

"I always tuck my panties into my pants pocket,fold my bra and lay in on top of the pants.

Adam always said she had old lady legs."

(Got this one this morning- it's pretty funny)

strumming, singing and moaning

2007-06-11T18:31:00.000-07:00

OK, still feeling a bit angry so I'm going off on my neighbors-here’s the deal: In the apartment across the hall from me there lives a couple who happen to be (I think) professional musicians. The problem is that they practice day and night and it’s fucking annoying when I just want some peace and quiet. And believe me, I could really use some peace and quiet, I have enough racket going on in my head these days.

They’re not rock stars by any means; I believe they are classical musicians. The woman is a singer and the dude plays the harp and piano. Most of the time it's pleasant because the music is gentle and kind of soothing- sounds like wind chime, new age meditation music. Believe me I’d much rather have someone singing classical music and playing the harp than screaming with an electric guitar. The clincher is when they plug in the amp- that’s right, I said amp. I think they have a synthesizer over there too. Now an amp in an apartment building is not right. I’m cool with a little acoustic rock, maybe a flute here and there, maybe even a piano but an amp? No way. It’s like a studio over there. They play late into the night and start early in the morning. It’s not every day, but I don’t think they work; they only leave the building when they have a gig at night. Plus they argue all the time, huge blow-outs with her high pitched screaming and doors slamming you'd think someone was getting murdered. The thing that bugs me about (opera) singers is the same thing that bugs me about (ballet) dancers: they both can't stop doing it. They sing when they walk the dog and they dance whenever they are in motion. Stop it!

The music in itself is annoying enough but It’s like these two don’t know how to live around other people either. They have no regard for others and I don’t get it. They are the type of people who have no boundaries- you know come home late at night, stumbling up the stairs,talking as if they were the only two people in the neighborhood. Sure, I’d like to crank my stereo late at night but do I? No because I’m normal. I’m a normal, considerate neighbor. They're loud, they're annoying, they're rude and they're out of control.

Saturday morning at 7, we were woken up with the sound(s) of them having sex. Windows open, she's an opera singer...you get the picture.

mystery solved

2007-06-07T16:26:00.000-07:00

Question for t2: is this where the Puerto Rican thing came from? The photo on the top is me and the one on the bottom is NOT (obviously). I thought that was clear from my respective posts but maybe not so much. (Photo #1 was a play on photo #2...)

For those of you unfamiliar with what's going on here, when I met trinity2 face to face, she had said she was thrown when she saw me. Thrown, not necessarily because of my "look" but more so because she was under the impression that I was Puerto Rican. I ain't no freakin Rican.

Just wanted to clear that up in case anyone else is thinking the same thing.

anger,drugs and energy

2007-05-31T17:02:00.000-07:00

I was so feeling so angry today, all day long. I couldn't wait to get out of work and leave; leave the day and enter the night. Nothing was wrong within the day, I just woke up feeling the anger. It probably would have helped if I didn't go into work and instead tried to figure out why I was so angry but that's not so easy either so I guess it's just as well. I feel sorry for anyone I came into contact with today, but then again they're used to it. Some days just seem more intense than others. I actually have a lot of anger inside me and I was thinking (after this weekend) that the only time I unleash it is in this blog. I realize I "go off" a lot in this blog and I understand my words may be a little harsh at times but it's a part of me that is real so I refuse to apologize for it. Afunt didn't waste any time telling me I was (in her words) a little prickly in my blog. After meeting her face to face for the first time it was like the second thing she said. It seemed as though it bothered her or something, but anyway it kept me thinking about the subject all weekend long.

I do have some anger stored up in me, what that's all about who knows but I'm thinking besides this blog and going off at work, I need a way to get my anger out. The problem is that I'm not an angry person; I'm a very calm, relaxed, somewhat intense person so doing physical things (besides, you know what... and running) I tend to stray from loud, rough, fast situations. I do love driving fast, that helps. Speeding always helps with the anger management but unfortunately my car these days is so bad off that it doesn't like it when I push it to perform more than it is able- it just won't let me drive with some verve and it's frustrating as hell.

I am definitely more when I write; I'm louder, more vocal, harsher, more judgemental (cus I can't fucking see you all), more brave, and more fearless. But that's normal, right? As my weekend buddies can attest to: in real life I am very relaxed, don't really swear too much, prefer to listen instead of speak, and like it slow and steady. What's the deal?! In my opinion I have the worst kind of anger because it's like always slowing boiling and only overflows every so often. It's similar to something being charged- I'm charged.

Anyway, today sucked, but I feel better already. I went running as soon as I got home, or should I say- sprinting. I ran out of the house like a bat out of hell (whatever that looks like). I picked up a pizza on the way home, sunk into the left over bottle of wine from the weekend and got a "check- in" e-mail from my 'Hotlanta' buddy so I'm all good. Drugs and energy; they do a body and mind good.

I know that anger is usually a mask for fear... hmmm, something to ponder as I drink the rest of this delicious wine.

a toast to the weekend

2007-05-29T05:22:00.000-07:00

After falling asleep with computer on, cat curled up in my legs and C.Love at the store I woke up to a much welcomed place of silence and a not so pleasant feeling of void. I enjoy silence and after all the haze of the weekend it was nice to sit with some clarity; even if I was only clear on the fact that it was 4 o'clock in the afternoon on Memorial Day. The void part is what came through loud and clear though- they were right here and now they're back in(out) there.

But after I peeled myself from the couch and helped with the groceries, I did manage to finish off a bottle of red wine and come to the simple conclusion that we had one very special weekend, even if I couldn't seem to get any fucking words out of my mouth the whole time or couldn't get the analogy of 'comics coming to life' out of my head. Words will come, as will other thoughts but one thing stands strong today: thank god I started blogging because I probably never would have ever met any of these people otherwise. And as afunt is used to saying, "they're good eggs" (not that I thought any differently before this whole thing). I'm still processing all that happened during the weekend, not necessarily what we did or where we went but the important stuff about how we felt and for me how damn comfortable it actually was... bizarro. I've been freaking out about this weekend since the idea came up and actually thought about bailing on the whole thing all together but thankfully snapped out of it and decided to suck it up-I mean soak it up. Man, did I ever soak it up, like a kitchen sink sponge. It's difficult for me to be present in situations that are highly charged or unknown- and this weekend I got both. I've only been on one blind date in my life and it sucked and I tend to close up in situations I can't get a grip on. I was trying to explain that to kelly on the way to the airport but that situation wasn't so normal either so I may have sounded like the adults do on Charlie Brown (whawawa wahwa wa waaaha) for all I know.

Bottom line to this whole event, as t2 eluded to a little on Sunday night in the hotel, was this weekend was necessary for the big picture to become complete and sometimes the new, bizarre, hazy picture looks and feels a whole hell of alot brighter, older and calmer than the the old one's we know do. I'm thankful we decided to do this, thankful it was in Chicago (no escape), thankful they all exceeded any expectations I had of them and thankful it's over with. It was cool to meet bloggers up close and personal but still so strange I can't seem to get over it. It's that damn comic analogy...

she's back

2007-05-23T05:31:00.000-07:00

I know it's crazy to watch a show because of it's host but it's not like I watch it with the volume down and look away at the moments she's not on; I enjoy watching the actual performances as well. I don't dance, I don't attempt to dance- well or have any knowledge on the subject. Sure I can move to music but my days of dancing have mostly been made up of sweaty drunken nights not moving to the music but slamming to the beat. When this show eventually works it's way down to the final contestants it's sheer entertainment- at least for me. It's amazing to me to watch so many (I'll say kids) with so much naked talent; I can't relate and I just watch in complete awe.

Thursday night it all returns: hot bodies, excellent dancers, amazing talent and Cat Deeley. She made my list. What a kick off to the weekend, "So You Think You can Dance" runs all Summer long. She's defintely a reason to stay in on a hot sultry night.

something I just have to say

2007-05-19T14:34:00.000-07:00

I know this is going to sound insensitive, cold, maybe even mean but I can't stand children's art. You read correctly- CHILDREN'S ART.

An entire section of my town today is inundated with kids and all of their creative expressions in a street fair. Streets were blocked off, sidewalks littered with pencil drawings and four year olds in line at the coffee shop- it was just all too much. The only people interested in attending a kids art fair are people with kids. Unless I actually had a child (and I don't) who happens to have a drawing on display, or am a teacher required to attend, I find kids art fairs boring as hell.

I love kids- the way they think and speak and know, but as far as dealing with other people's kids I'm so not into it. And while we're on the subject of kids, let me add that I could care less about receiving baby pictures week after week of my friends newborn; hearing about their every noise, spit-up, nuance or milestone for weeks and months after that. One photo is enough. Other people's kids are like other people's dreams; I don't care to hear about them.

Neverland

2007-05-15T14:26:00.000-07:00

An island and dream world; a metaphor for eternal childhood, immortality and escapism. Sounds perfect to me. Neverland may be a fictional place but I'd give anything to go hang out with Peter and those Lost Boys tonight, and any other time when I just can't seem to make sense out of my world-which happens way to often.

I know it's not a good thing when I revert back to my childhood to escape 'adulthood' or consciously avoid talking steps in my life just to stay put on my imaginary island, but it's so damn easy to do. I'm all about ease- ease, convenience and sereneness... and island life. Everything was so simplistic and easy when I was a kid, I had the world at my little fingertips. It all seemed to go awry as soon as finger painting became a skill of the past. When the braces came off things were looking up, but then sexuality came flying in- like a U.F.O. Unidentified says it all.

These days I seem to be struggling with the final push to either grow up or continue to stay on my island forever. I've conveniently enough, managed to create a way for myself to get off the island whenever needed; kick into adult mode to deal with adult situations, conversations, decisions, transactions and confrontations- that's no problem, and I actually do it quite well. The problem is that whenever I step off the island and hit the main land to deal with whatever I need to deal with, my desire to hop right back on that boat and sail away is imminent. Take me away from responsibility, finance, family, decisions and the doom of getting 'old'. I'll tell you this much, I've enjoyed my 30's and early 40's way more than my twenties-they sucked. Turning the actual 4-0, the night of, was torturous but it's been pretty blissful since then. Maybe that night I left one of my shoes back on the island; it may be time to go retrieve it once and for all- maybe that's the problem. I feel like I'm missing something here lately; missing a part of me that will feel OK on the mainland-forever. I fear if I step off and stay off, I will never be able to return. My 'spidey' sense says that's a bunch of crap, but it's still a fear so...

That Peter Pan bistro might be the perfect solution to feeling too adult these days. At least it's a step more mature (and safer) than an island filled with lost boys and fairies. Or maybe I should just go to drinking in Disneyland with goofy and the gang. Maybe that'll shake some sense into me.

passing thought

2007-05-09T05:52:00.000-07:00

Wednesday morning- drinking coffee, trying to wake up, watching television with the volume down and thinking about pizza... I love pizza. I could eat it every day, but it's strange that I'm thinking about it now.

The best pizza anywhere, hands down is Pizzeria Regina's in Boston. Chicago Pizza sucks. Well, it doesn't suck if you like pizza six inches deep with enough cheese to fill your living room with. I prefer thin crust, good sauce, not too much cheese and some grease. Pizzeria Regina's is so good you don't need toppings but otherwise I like the veggies and pepperoni. My recommendation?, if you live anywhere near this place GO. You will not be disappointed.

Pee like a man

2007-05-02T05:36:00.000-07:00

How nice would that be, to pee like a man. Think about it- there would be no more squatting, straddling, paper arranging or holding it. Just whip it out and let it fly. Sounds good to me, it's a hell of a lot easier and way more convenient (and I'm all over that). Now I'm not saying I want to be a man, just maybe pee like one if needed.

The other night I was pulled into a conversation about women peeing while standing. I think it came up because someone was talking about going camping and using this. Unfortunately I missed the intro about using the tool, so when I joined the conversation I thought they were discussing women who simply choose to stand while urinating (hate that word) and found the subject quite interesting. I had known about this phenomenon being quite popular in the lesbian community because of the 'wanting to be a man' fetish and I had heard about the using the tool because of sanitary reasons but I was unaware of any straight women having the urge to stand. The particular women I was hanging out with were gay but some of them wanted to actually not have to use the tool at all; they wanted to know if it was possible to learn how to do it with 'direction'. Now why they were asking me I have no idea; I wasn't offering any advice or speaking from experience just giving support, but it got me thinking.

The tools used for this act range from a paper disposable kind to a funnel type plastic thing. The more I think about it the more inviting it sounds but I don't want to be carrying around a pack of anything in my pocket or on my body except maybe gum so it's out for me. Except if I had to go camping, then I'm in. The funny thing is I could totally see myself keeping a stash of them in my glove compartment for those disgusting restroom visits on road trips or just road trips in general- hell who needs a restroom if I got one of these. So the funnel thing is one thing but doing it without anything is whole other issue.

So I'm throwing the concept out there for you all to ponder- peeing while standing- with or without the tool. What are your thoughts , concerns, feelings or experiences. Inquiring minds want to know...

early to bed

2007-04-27T05:59:00.000-07:00

Going here tonight for a fundraiser for this group. It always feels a little odd when there's a relatively organized soiree at a sex toy shop because the atmosphere at such a place is anything but cocktail like. There will be wine and cheese served, but as far as keeping the conversation generic? that's like saying you're going to walk into a florist and not smell anything, it just doesn't happen. Interesting how a bunch of strangers can go from ground zero to seventh heaven in seconds flat but that's the deal. Personally, I have an issue with talking about something as intimate as sex with someone I have no connection to what so ever. But on the other hand... talking about something so detailed as which toy you prefer and why, with someone I'm attracted to is a whole other ball game. I'm an exceptional listener.

Sex (the actual act) is such a murky subject- some people are freaks about it, so many people have issues about it, some people are prudes about it, some people use it as a tool, others use it as a language, some people could care less about it and some people jut plain fucking enjoy it-in a nice, desirable way. I only care to talk about it, do it, listen to it and watch it when there's no creepiness going on in it. You know, weird, creepy bizarro stuff-it's fucking freaky. There's a fine line between sexy and 'all about sex'.

Anyway, tonight should fun, I know there will be enough to drink because we are in charge of picking up the supply of wine. As far as the other stuff goes, like I said "I'm an excellent listener". Sex, wine, women and cheese- sounds like a perfect evening to me.

THE AFTERNOON AFTER: Excellent night. Lots of wine, cheese, women and fun conversation... just as I had hoped. Topics that came up were peeing while standing, the Gay Pride Parade and being in it this year instead of watching it, vibrators being too loud, my body, Amy Ray, and how delicious the cheese was. It was a pretty normal night considering the scenery- penises as far as the eye could see...

an "inconvenient" joke

2007-04-24T16:24:00.000-07:00

A joke? It's a fucking joke. I'm laughing all way over to my CD cabinet to pick out every single one of her discs and put them in a drawer somewhere; it's all I can do, it's not like I can call her up and tell her she sucks or "good one Sheryl, you fooled the world". The fact that she said what she did knocks her down a peg or five, in my book. You don't make jokes about important stuff going on in the world at a time that you want people to listen up- any SANE person would know that. A couple of things are going on now with Crow: she totally lost whatever 'coolness' she had going for her with that joke and she's making herself look like weak sauce because she stole the fucking joke from her buddy's husband, Larry David.

As I said before, there's too much craziness in the world these days to be saying stupid things-leave that up to those who never make sense. Sheryl Crow is the only one who knows why she chose to make that joke, she had her reasons. All I'm saying is that she's not the most influential person in the world so there's a fine line between popularity and poop. Good luck to her after this stupid move.

another one bites the dust

2007-04-23T19:44:00.000-07:00

I hate when people I admire, for whatever reason, do or say something that makes me feel like I'm living in a cartoon: my heel brakes go on, I create some smoke, stop dead in my tracks and scratch my head in total confusion. It happened today and I feel like I'm still scratching my head- it's bizarro. With all the craziness going on in the world these days, I like to rely on the few sane people I know to help me remain still with the notion that not not everyone has completely lost their capability to think rationally and I can continue to trust what's out there-generally speaking. But when one of the assumed 'sane' ones sheds some outer skin and reveals another side of themselves (the gray side) I begin to feel like I'm now living in some sort of horror flick where a state of fear could rule my world if I left my house.

I knew as soon as everyone started to zero in on the fact that the dude from Virginia Tech, who felt he needed to kill everyone in sight, had a "mental illness", the effect of this was going to take on an amorphous meaning. The chaos of it all has now unfortunately seeped its way into the basements, hallways, front doors and living rooms of everyone in America (I can't speak for those of you internationally) and it's quite unsettling to say the least. When people don't understand what they're talking about and react out of fear, their words turn into toxic energy. The guy was crazy... not such an unbelievable feat for someone like that, but we as a society we can't go there. It's too much. There's a huge ripple effect going on from last weeks event that is coming out in many forms, one of which I felt today. This news actually has nothing to do with what happened in Virginia, but for some reason there feels like a recurring theme going on these days. And while it may have always been well contained in Hollywood, it also leaks out every now and then. For good reasons, Sheryl Crow has joined the global warming awareness movement. Great, this is fine, we need more influential, powerful people to hop on the green train, unfortunately it looks as though Sheryl has lost her mind along the way. The rock star has officially gone on record by saying she thought we could preserve some trees by proposing a ban on how many squares of toilet paper we are allowed to use each time we use the bathroom. What?! Oh no, here we go with the crazy talk from someone I thought was pretty much sane. Limiting toilet paper use?, come on now, that's silly talk. She said "I think we are an industrious enough people that I think we can make it work with only one square per restroom visit, except of course, on those pesky occasions where two to three could be required". Two to three? shit, I'd be doomed. I get where she's coming from but is she serious? Now Sheryl is an intelligent, successful woman and she's making statements like this. What the fuck is going on.

I used to like Sheryl Crow, she rocked. Now she wobbles, like the rest of the world. Sometimes I think I'd rather live inside a cartoon life where it's safe. At least Bugs Bunny was sane.

tampons and wine

2007-04-19T19:38:00.000-07:00

For reasons I won't go into, I wasn't feeling my best on Tuesday. To attempt to shake myself from my funk I decided to get some air and go for a run since that always makes me feel better. I ended up at the grocery store because I remembered we needed some fucking tampons (not the reason for not feeling my best) and a grapefruit. On my way over to the tampon aisle I passed up a beautiful display of wine and decided I really wanted to have some for a little later that evening. I grabbed a bottle of Merlot and headed to the self check out. As I swiped the wine the siren went off, as it always does when liquor goes through, but I proceeded to put my the wine in the bag and wait for a clerk to come over to check on me. When she asked for my I.D. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my credit card and three bucks, but no I.D. I froze for a second because I thinking about how much I really wanted that wine but quickly snapped out of it and told her I just came from running so no, I don't have my I.D. (assuming she would say no problem and let me slide by) I stood there with my 'please can I have this wine face' on staring at her but all I got in response was "Sorry" - I was in shock. "Really?" I said, "I'm in here every day!" (getting angry) "I'm sorry", she said again. Now I was furious because not only did I really wanted that fucking wine but I'm legal! I'm 43 fucking years old! Plus I was upset to begin with because I was having issues all day with not getting what I want, and they never card me in this place so WHY NOW, WHY TODAY! My voice got louder, I starting to make a scene with my questions when I glanced around and noticed people starting to stare. I figured I better get a grip and shut up, which I did. I didn't want the old ladies and little kids thinking I had some kind of problem.

I did have a problem: I'm 43 and I look like I'm 23- what the hell. I can't really blame the cashier woman, I mean I had my Red Sox knit scull cap on, my Adidas pants, no make up on and a desperate look on my face. Anyway, I walked out with my grapefruit and tampons feeling like I just wanted to sit down and burst into tears when it started to rain- heavily. It opened up the second I walked outside, just my luck- I gave up. I slowed my pace down, held the tears back and proceeded to walk home. I wasn't happy with how I reacted to the woman telling me 'no', but I was really angry that It was just one more thing, as minor as it was, of something I wanted and couldn't have. It's been the theme for the week and it sucked.

But I did manage to get myself some wine later that day and enjoy every last fucking drop. And I learned to never leave the house anymore without my I.D because you just never know when you're going to need those tampons... and wine.

Note: I don't use o.b.

hottie

2007-04-13T06:00:00.000-07:00

This one's for Afunt. Happy Friday...

retro chic (maybe)

2007-04-10T12:28:00.000-07:00

Here's the deal: I have this 'old school', club chair I want to clean up and make presentable but I don't know where to start. I think the thing is from the 1950's and I just can't throw it away because I think it's cool looking; plus it came straight from my basement where I spent most of my childhood, so I'm still attached. I managed to bring it all the way from Boston to Chicago but it has never actually made it inside any of our homes since then. It's been banished to the storage rooms from day one. C. Love has wanted to toss the thing for years now but I've managed to distract her from the process. I tried to sell it a couple of years ago by putting it out on the front lawn with some other huge items and throwing a sign on it, but no one seemed interested. I don't actually blame them, I mean the thing looks a little beat up and yes-old, so unless you have an eye for design or the ability to see the potential in something, you might just pass it off as a piece of junk.

I saw it today when I decided to put the shovel away for the winter (huge leap of faith, but whatever). It was shoved in the corner with some boxes on it. I picked it up, fixed the rubber type slats on the seat, rearranged the cushions and sat down. It was confirmed once again just how much I love the look and the feel of this damn chair! It's got a wooden frame, a seat cushion and a back cushion-that's it. All I think I need to do is reupholster the cushions, clean up the wood, buy some new slats and I'm good to go. The cushions are foam and the have a cover that can be taken off, it's kind of low to the ground and perfect for lounging. I've never done any of this type of stuff before, it's not that I'm opposed to it it's just that I've never had the desire. I'd rather buy new than fix up the old but in this case things are a little different.

So anyone out there know how to go about something like this? I'm looking for tips, details, wood info, upholstery info- the whole nine yards. Talk to me like I'm five and take it slow. I've been told to fix it up first and then we'll see if it is presentable enough to come inside. I need some help.

take my advice

2007-04-04T05:37:00.000-07:00

It was just picked as the beer of the month. I couldn't agree more but it's been my beer of the month for the last two months. I'm just saying...

here we go...

2007-04-02T05:22:00.000-07:00

I don't care if you're a baseball fan or not. Whether you are a Red Sox fan, a Cubs fan, a Giants fan, a Braves fan, a Yankees fan, a White Sox fan or a Dodgers fan; the next 6-7 months are the best months of the year. Baseball not only signifies the kickoff to summer, but more importantly it's a time period loaded with the little stuff that feels huge. It's hot and steamy night games under the lights, the sound of the game on the radio on a Saturday afternoon, whiffle ball in the back yard, little league, big dreams, the simplicity of peanuts and popcorn, a fast ball, the home run, the grand slam, the feeling of home field advantage, the indescribable energy of Fenway Park, the last out, summer vacation, staying in because the game's on, tradition and faith.

So here's to Baseball season 2007. May those of you who enjoy the game, have fun and for those of you who could care less... well, good luck, it's a long season ahead of us. Cheers!

going with the flow

2007-04-01T16:22:00.000-07:00

I've tried the sex thing, the avoidance thing, the full throttle thing, the anger thing, the depression thing. I've held the "I don't care" attitude for an extended period of time, as well as remaining in the protective mode and 'being in the moment' much longer than I should have. When it comes right down to it, I've learned the only way to deal with anything is to face it-head on. At least for me. Distraction only works for so long.

For the last week or so I've been, what I called stuck in the 'pause' state. What that meant for me was I was waiting on a bunch of things, all of which were out of my control and all of which were emotionally charged. I was semi-released on Thursday only to immediately be placed in the so called waiting room once again. I spent last week struggling with family issues, all which were precipitated by my dad's unstable decision to have heart surgery. I also struggled with all the fucking angst that goes along with being a freelance writer, while I waited for my potential proposals to be accepted... or rejected. I finally received two 'thanks but no thanks' on the freelance gigs and a definate date for my dad's surgery, so I moved on from the potential of shifting my life as far as the work thing goes and concentrated on the family issue. That was Tuesday.

Tuesday night: after much consideration and distress, I made the decision to go home and be with my dad and family for this operation. Mostly because it's kind of risky as well as serious but I also just didn't want to have to regret anything, if you know what I mean. I made the reservation on Tuesday night and headed for the airport on Thursday morning. We left the house at 5:15 a.m. and then got a call at 5:30 that the surgery had been cancelled. Once again, there was nothing I could do except turn the car around, go home and wait for another date. Wait, and wait to resume my life... again. That's exactly what I did and have been doing since then. I arranged to get off of work, but I went back to work; I packed and unpacked; I payed for a flight and then tried to get my money back; I got some of my writing proposals rejected and then decided to try again with another angle; I struggled with not feeling OK, then figured out why and dealt with that instead.

Now I've already dealt with the issues that come up with me around my family, the issues that come up with having an ill parent, the issues that come up with rejection, and the issues that come up with not being in control. In all of this, just tonight I was doing the dishes and I was thinking about when people are told they have (blank) amount of days, weeks, months or years left to live. What then? How the hell do these people feel? Talk about going with the flow... shit.

I like to plan ahead, I like to be informed, I like to know what's going on so when I can't or don't I move through life like a caged in lion. I'm full of emotion, angry as hell, silent from exhaustion and ready to make my move as soon as I get released. My friend e-mailed me in the middle of my trying to book a flight home on Tuesday night. I was telling him about what was going on and that I was worried about my Dad. He simply e-mailed back and said "don't worry, everything will be fine with your Dad. Besides, your tough". Yeah, I forget sometimes. Then I got some other advice from a friend within the same 15 minutes that thankfully woke me up from my comatose state. She pretty much just said go, no matter what. I also knew that, but sometimes what we know gets lost in the shuffle of life. I'm good now. I had a good weekend and I'm ready to proceed with whatever comes my way... whatever.

warm weather woes

2007-03-25T16:06:00.000-07:00

Weather: 74 and sunny
Time: 11:00- 3:00 on a Sunday
Problem: It's 74 degrees on a Sunday afternoon in March

What the hell am I talking about? Here's the deal. For some unexplained reason whenever it's warm out and feels like summer in the springtime people tend to get OUT OF CONTROL. Whether it was the lake front, the grocery store or my neighborhood, everywhere we went today we were surrounded by too many people. Because of it and because of the fact that I can't continue on with my evening unless I make some sense of this, here's my list of the top ten most annoying things that surface when the weather starts to gets warm.

1. Public displays of affection. I don't like seeing anyone make out in public, it's gross and it's weird.

2. Lack of clothing. People dressing like it's 112 degrees in August when it's only 74 in March. It's warm, not hot.

3. Nudity.

4. Open car windows. I don't have any desire to hear someone else's music especially when it sucks. and especially when the punk behind the wheel is just that... a punk-ass kid.

5. Droves of people. For some reason, the warm weather is a magnet for anyone who either
a) hasn't been out of their house all winter long or
b) has never been to a grocery store, to actually attempt to shop. WHAT THE FUCK. It's like people think 'oh, it's nice out so I must go get some food'...

6. Kids. Warm weather gives kids and teens a license to raise their voices 10 decimal's higher than they usually would, yell uncontrollably, scream as if someones murdering them, carry on conversations as if everyone was hard of hearing and take up space where they don't belong. They are annoying and obnoxious.

7. Sunburns. It's warm out, the sun is hot, you are as white as a ghost because you haven't seen the light of day in three solid months and you think you can lay out for five hours and not get burned??!! Come on now, you look silly.

8. Air conditioners. I hate them all the time anyway but when I hear an air conditioner being put on as soon as the temp hits 70, somethings wrong.

9. Bad Smells. It has to do with open windows and personal hygiene...

10. Strangeness. I don't understand it but the warm weather brings out everyone and everything, and that's cool I guess- but I'm just saying...

Tonight we head out to watch the finale of The L Word. Should be an interesting crowd, it's still 73 degrees outside.

pause and effect

2007-03-20T18:06:00.000-07:00

The pause button has been hit, my life pause button. Without going into the details, I was just wondering how people deal with the waiting game; as I sit here and deal with mine. (laptop and beer)

I tend to usuallywant to either do things, like the dishes, cooking, physically move around or just the opposite and sit completely still with it. I did a little of both today. I happen to take the day off from work so I was able to do my waiting at home. It helps to have the comforts of home around when one waits, like your own bathroom, TV, food and beverage accessibility and the freedom to move around . I don't like feeling confined when I have to wait, that makes everything feel worse. I also prefer to wait alone... I think, I hate carrying on conversations, making small talk, playing board games or changing the subject just for the sake of changing the mood. I've waited in jury duty many times and that just sucks big time. I've waiting, as has everyone, in lines many times but as long as the line moves rapidly the angst of waiting doesn't set in too much. I've waited in hospitals: for a diagnosis, a release, a nurse, time to pass and all of that totally sucks- all of it, without a doubt. I've waited for the tide to come in which is a joy and I've waited for the snow to stop falling. We all wait for summer to arrive, our hair to grow or maybe our baby to be born, but it's the waiting within the waiting that's hard. It's waiting for the results, or the diagnosis or the decision. When I wait for something specific/immediate, I like to stand up but when I'm waiting for something that's going to take awhile (like a plane delay), I prefer to sit down with a newspaper. Right now I'm in neither.

Today, tonight, tomorrow and maybe for the rest of the week I get to wait for my life to be released from the pause state. You know when you're going along just fine with your little daily routine, making plans for your future, setting things up to go go your way, etc, etc, and then the pause button. It's not the stop button, just the pause which sometimes is harder to deal with. Anyway, while I wait to be released I'll go to work and carry on as usual, but instead of thinking ahead too far I'll sit in the moment. Even if the moment could turn into days.

So my question for the masses is how do you play the waiting game? (I obviously babble, which is very uncharacteristic of me.)

spring fling

2007-03-13T19:34:00.000-07:00

Today is the type of day that if I was 7 I'd be dying to hear that last bell ring to be set free from the confines of the school yard. I can picture it as if it was yesterday. I would literally run home from school(it was only up the hill and round the corner); change into my "play clothes"; sit down at the kitchen table and devour a tasty snack that was set up by my mom; I would walk the dog and then immediately head outside to play. I couldn't wait to get outside and be 'one' with my yard.

Today was 70-something degrees and it felt like spring had sprung, if only to last the one day. On my run home I came across two little ones on my street: a 3 year old and a 4 yr old. They were on their front walk stumbling around as little ones do, riding their little cars and testing the boundaries with their mom -who sat a mere two steps away. I get kind of a lump in my throat (in a good way) every time I see little kids outside playing,whether they are playing with jump ropes, chalk, balls, skateboards, sticks, or anything else that looks old school or creative. I remember I didn't even need tools to amuse myself with when I was young. A good thick stick did wonders, as did dirt, bushes, the cracks in the sidewalk,the corner of my garage, any unidentified object in the grass, or simply the parameters of my back yard. Sure, I loved my pink banana seat bike,red skateboard and assortment of playground balls but my point is that it was being able to play outdoors that thrilled me, not my big wheel or hoola hoop.

I was just telling someone the other day that I remember being young and playing outside in March as if spring was well on it's way to quickly turning into summer. (geez, I sound like I'm 90) It's not so much like that anymore. Spring used to be a time for light windbreaker type jackets, new sneakers, Easter dresses (when I was two), and Saturdays filled with helping my Dad with putting the screens in the windows and my Mom with "spring cleaning". The weather from March-May was typically anywhere from 60-75 with no chance of it dipping back down to the 40's. These days we're lucky if we are able to shed the winter coat much before April and turn our heat off before May.

Spring screams youth, fresh air and crazy chalk drawings on the sidewalk. When I see a kid in my neighborhood walking around bouncing a ball, or playing hide-n- seek with their buddies it makes me happy. So does 73 degrees in march- old school, there's just nothing like it.

reality bites

2007-03-10T13:46:00.000-08:00

Well, it's back to regularly scheduled programming. My trip to the Bahamas was not only a vacation in paradise but all I keep thinking was how much of an escape it was- an escape from reality and it's something I'm having a hard time letting go of.

It's strange to completely remove yourself from your regular routine both physically and mentally but environmentally as well. To go from 20 degrees to 80 degrees in a matter of 3 hours is a bit overwhelming for me. And to go from programmed thinking to not having to actually think at all is mind blowing to say the least. The immediacy at which I settled into being in the Bahamas was ridiculous. From the second we walked off the plane and breezed into that tropical air I was immediately transformed. It's so easy for me to adapt to beach mentality and casual island living, it's like I was living as if I was part of The Blue Lagoon in a past life or something. As soon as we dropped the bags in the room , all was well. We ditched the shoes for flip flops, I threw on my bandana and we were out the door for a cocktail on the beach. Totally different in every single way from 5 hours prior. I was in a complete dream state the whole time I was there; it felt like I was present physically, because that warmth literally paralyzed me, but at the same time I felt somewhat removed mentally. I couldn't quite settle into being present which was bugging me but I'm thinking it just may have been way too overwhelming if I did- this is the stuff I think about all the time. Is there a way for the soul to be so alive but the mind completely shut off? I don't know but mine was for sure.

When we returned home I delayed contacting my family and checking my e-mail just to delay the inevitable: life doesn't stop when you go on vacation. It turns out my Dad had fallen down 4 steps in his house and fractured his hip and elbow while I was basking in the Bahama sun. It feels like he is completely falling apart and not only can I not do anything about it but the reality of aging parents has now completely entered this stage of my life. Do I head down to Cape Cod for a weekend to help my mom out? Do I just carry on with my life while my dad struggles to hold on to his? I feel guilt, sadness, anger, frustration and empathy. It's hard to not be able to take care of your parents when they need it when that's all they did for me when I was little. All they did was take care of me and love me. It would be nice to repay, even though I know it's not necessary.

Last week at this time we were getting drunk on the beach with not a care in the world except for the fact that it was our second to last day on the Bahamas. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have that back again.

6 days and 5 nights

2007-02-20T18:47:00.000-08:00

In exactly one week from today for six days I will be able to:

Feel the warmth of the sun instead of the warmth of my radiator
Wear tank tops instead of fucking sweaters
Wear flip flops instead of fucking boots
Drink my morning coffee on the beach instead of my couch
Have cocktail hour outside instead of in my kitchen
Experience fresh air instead of forced heat
Feel loose instead of tight
Run on the beach instead of the pavement
Breathe instead of shiver
Drink, eat and drink instead of drink- cook and then eat... and drink
Experience instead of react
Write instead of blog
Relax instead of work
Wear my bandanna instead of my wool scull cap

Watch the day turn into night instead of waiting for the day to turn into night and

Feel inspired instead of tired

Next week at this time I'll be in the Bahamas... phew, bring it on.

?

2007-02-19T05:22:00.000-08:00

What the...

house rules part 2

2007-02-13T17:44:00.000-08:00

Since my return comments to the last post were becoming a post in itself, I thought I would just continue with the stream of consciousness going on here- fuck it. First of all, as I write this I have bare feet and just for the record, my shoes are off of my feet (most of the time) as soon as soon as I enter my own house. Especially if it's either wet , muddy, snowing or raining outside- I don't go beyond the front door. I don't want anyone out there feeling like they have to defend the fact that they enjoy walking around without shoes on-I could actually care less what the hell you do in the privacy of your own home.

Bottom line here: what I do care about and what I was trying to convey is that I think it's impolite to impose your own habits/views/ "house rules" on anyone else- especially if they are your guest. It's weird to see people with socks or slippers on while entertaining- come on now.

So that brings me to another one of my rules which is the issue of overnight/weekend guests and how to treat them...
DO NOT invite anyone to 'stay with you' unless you can accommodate them with most or preferably all of these things:
1. Their own separate towels
2. Their own bathroom
3. Real sugar
4. A beer or wine or soda or something besides tap water
5. Extra pillows
6. No set schedule
7. Coffee and tea
8. A guest room free of strange smells, weird sheets, baby, animal and kids toys
9. kids that understand the meaning of "boundaries"
10. Pets that do not have a need to sleep with strangers
11. The house computer -but anywhere other than where the guests sleep
12. The freedom to 'sleep in'
13. Reading material
14. The option to use small sample type toiletries that the you(as the host) provides
15. A night out to dinner-with or without you
16. A hairdryer
17. A mirror in the guest bedroom
18. A television
19. No sense of, "oh, so that's what they're like" In other words- adults who understand the word "boundries"
20. Space

house rules

2007-02-11T12:20:00.000-08:00

This particular issue has come up a lot lately so I thought I'd throw it out there to the masses to find out what the majority thinks. The issue I'm talking about is the removal of the shoes once inside someones house- that includes your own house as well. Bottom line: I think it's rude to ask someone to take off their shoes. I understand the Japanese cultural thing, that it's a custom to remove your shoes just after entering a home, but we don't live in Japan.

I've been noticing this 'taking the shoes off' thing lately with various friends and in different situations. Last night we went to my friends house for dinner and as we were getting into the car we were discussing this issue because my friend just happened to have married a Japanese woman. The dude is from the South side of Chicago and he could care less about these things but he's now hooked up with her so we weren't sure what was going to happen. I immediately said "shit I hope not because it's not so easy to take these boots off" and C.Love said, "I'm not doing it, I'll be too cold." I was thinking to myself, you can't say no if they ask you too-right? As we walked in I noticed a plethora of shoes at the doorway in a pile but we weren't forced to strip so we just continued to walk in. I then glanced down at my friends feet and then at his wife's and saw both had stocking feet. Then last week at the Superbowl party I was looking around at everyone's feet and noticed lots more stocking feet. What the fuck! no one was Japanese in this house, just a couple of guys from Chicago who are obsessed with the Bears and the Cubs.

OK, there a couple of things going on here. One is the fact that I HATE to see other people's feet without shoes. I have a hard time in the summer with the sandals but I let that go- unless the feet are big, awkward and white, then it's a NO, but Seeing people in stocking feet is like seeing them in their sweats. (and I've been holding back talking about this one because it's so strong)If you invite someone over for dinner you put normal clothes on so why the hell don't you put shoes on? It completes the outfit you know? I understand completely, taking your shoes off when you enter your house because of mud, salt, snow, or rain but you're suppose to put them back on again when company comes over! It's weird to see someone walking around in stocking feet- feels too personal or something. The other issue I have with people asking me to take off my shoes is that it's just not something you can do without notice. I mean I have good socks and bad socks; warm socks and warmer socks; socks that look better without shoes because of the pattern and socks that look better with shoes because they're just ... socks!

So my question is do you ask people to 'take them off' or don't you? What's the deal with this...

sitting with it

2007-02-06T16:36:00.000-08:00

It's difficult for me, as I assume it is for others as well, to just 'sit with' something; whether it's something that is bothering me, annoying me, controlling me or depressing me. My first instinct is to lash out, fight the urge to cry, complain or 'try to fix it' (if it's happening to someone else). I'm like a guy in that way, well I'm like a guy in many ways but right now I'm referring to having the urge to "fix it". If someone's upset, my immediate question is "what happened?", as if something happened to this person, it is upsetting them, so I need to figure out what it was so I can stop it from occurring and fix the problem. What's the solution; what can I physically do to fix whatever is going on. That's how I feel.

That's my first instinct and then seconds later I kick in to more of a human being and remember that sometimes all people need is someone to listen and not judge; someone to hear them and understand or someone to simply say,"wow, that must really hurt and I'm sorry". I've learned things over the years and consider myself a pretty good listener (because I actually listen). I've learned that sometimes people don't want an answer, or a solution to their problem or a 'way out'. They just need to sit with it. Maybe they need to cry, or complain, or lash out and that's the only thing they need. For some people blogging is their way to do just that. They use the space as a vehicle to not only express themselves but to be allowed to do it with out back lash. And I've noticed that that's actually all they need. Some people don't want 5, 10,15, 20 or 30 people commenting back. I said some don't, I know most do. Some people are not looking for others to tell them what to do or tell them what they would do or to pick a fight with their words.

I'm bringing this up because today I commented on someone's post and it was one of those immediate comments, you know the kind where you respond to the words someone uses but not necessarily the meaning of the post itself. I almost deleted my comment at the end of the day because I thought I realized what she was trying to say, or at least I thought I did. But instead I decided to do this and kind of apologize- in public. I was thinking that maybe like she said- just 'reflecting' and she wasn't looking for responses about it. She was simply sitting with some of her thoughts, maybe realizing some things for the first time or maybe just looking for a few good listeners to say "that must be hard for you" and that's it. So again, thanks for sharing and I'm sorry you (may) feel alone in the world.

But still- why do bizarro things happen to you in coffee shops?

safe sex

2007-01-31T16:50:00.000-08:00

In t2's last post she brought up a couple of topics, one being whether or not we 'hide' our blogs from our significant others, potentials, or anyone at all; if we don't why and if we do why and if we then consider this an "affair". That's where I'm going to pick it up from. If we DO and we kind of feel like it's an affair... of the safe kind, and then pushing it a little further- at what point do we feel like we are "cheating". How far does it have to go?

In my experience, I have known many people who feel like they are being 'unfaithful' to their significant other by simply speaking aloud their opinions,(or in this case writing their opinions)about what they think, or feel about another person. Example: if they think person 'x' is attractive or not, or if they may feel an "attraction to" a certain individual. Personally, I talk all the time about who I think is hot, attractive etc. around my girlfriend, she does the same and we're fine- we accept it and expect it. Thankfully we are secure enough within ourselves and our relationship that we feel ok sharing our opinions (sexually related) about other people we know or notice. It's no big thing. There are others however who don't feel the same. So just for the record:

I don't consider it "cheating" unless

a- the primary relationship is being put aside

b- there is sex involved (physical)

c- we choose 'the other' instead of our own

And I don't call it an "affair" unless it's

a- completely and totally hidden from our significant other

b- fulfilling something which may be either physically or emotionally sexually related

c- a and b are going on for a very long time- like a year

My question is how much are you comfortable with? How much talk about sex, how far will you go with flirting? how explicit, how honest can you be about your opinions. Where is the line drawn for you? Is "blogging" your way to flirt safely? or be bold without repercussion? or 'talk dirty' because you can't be touched?

Well all I have to say is good job if your answer is YES because then at least you're alive and well. You gotta get it out and before that you gotta get it. I say we all kick it up a notch and for those who are holding back-stop being so 'safe'.

cold fingers and warm heart

2007-01-27T10:45:00.000-08:00

Today's run: 30 degrees and cloudy with the wind in my face. I am fully aware that I complain about the weather or lack of warmth too much these days and I apologize for that but I'm warning you it's not going to stop- not yet at least. I understand nobody likes complainers and that I should just either shut up or move my ass to a warmer climate. I get it, believe me. But here goes: today's run sucked because It was fucking cold out! I don't enjoy running against the arctic wind; it's not pleasant or relaxing. That's one thing I hate about the cold, it's not easy to deal with, it's annoying and a pain in the ass. My face was frozen, fingers tingling, ears a bit nippy and my nose always runs when it's cold out. I was thinking that I need that huge red Easy button that Staples advertises - I always just want to make things easier in life.

The other day I walked into work and as usual started to complain about how cold it was outside- like that particular day was any colder than the last-it wasn't. Right after I said "man, it's cold out" a co worker said "I like the cold". What?! this woman is like 90 pounds and very frail but whatever. At that point I was so tired of saying it myself, I just wanted to understand exactly what it was she liked about being cold. At first she said what everyone else in the world says " well I'd rather be cold than hot because you can always get warm by putting more clothes on but you can never cool off by taking clothes off". (I despise that statement, but in the interest of time I won't go into it). I then composed myself and decided to listen to everything she loves about the cold in hopes that I may gain some insight as to how others feel about the subject. after she told me all her ridiculous reasons I said "OK, here's how I think about the cold" and I walked over to her and started to tap her arm, hit her gently and begin to annoy her. Then I said " this is how I feel about the warmth" and I slowly rubbed her arm in a circular motion. "You see, to me, the cold is harsh, rough, annoying and hard and being warm feels soft and gentle, now wouldn't you rather feel that"? . She responded with "well if you put it that way, yeah" Now I don't know if she was somewhat mesmerized by the circular motion or shocked that I was rubbing her so she just said yes out of confusion- or she was really being honest. Whatever.

My point is, and I was thinking about this later in the week while my teeth were chattering, that dealing with being cold for me is simply unpleasant. While I know there are so many people that are unaffected by the cold I was wondering if it's because they are used to dealing with pain and suffering whether it's from their past or in their lives now. So the cold in turn becomes no big thing, it's just something else to deal with. As I said, I'm all over the easy button; having things feel good, soft, gentle and slow are what I'm all about. I've had it literally since day 1. My childhood was blissful and the rest of my life has fortunately been void of any violent, outrageous or harmful acts. I'm just wondering if there's any correlation between a traumatic childhood/life and having a high tolerance for the cold.

Now please don't go responding with comments like "my childhood sucked and I hate being cold" or "I've had a rough life so far and I live in California". I'm not talking about that, I'm merely questioning the possibility that if someone is accustomed to loudness, harshness, and lack of human intimate contact could there be a possibility that these same people (in general, as a whole) can deal with the cold weather more so than say... someone like myself. Someone who prefers the Easy button. Just a thought as I froze on my run today.

holding it in

2007-01-26T05:31:00.000-08:00

My faith in humanity is tested pretty much everyday, but when I hear stories like the one that came up a couple of weeks ago I can't help but just stand still and shake my head in disbelief.

There was a woman in California who entered a contest on a radio station because she wanted to win a video game console- sounds harmless right? Wrong. There isn't actually one right thing about this contest. This woman was one in 18 people who attempted to drink as much water as possible without going to the bathroom. The woman died. That's it. Let's just sit with that statement for a minute... "to drink as much water as possible without going to the bathroom"?! All I can say is "What the fuck is up with that"? Who in their right mind would even begin to, or want to think about that particular scenario; and all for a video game console? I don't get it. Not only was the woman out of her mind, and obviously the other 18 people also, to try to attempt this insane feat but what the hell is the radio station doing hosting it? Am I missing something here, I don't understand what the hell this is all about. The woman was 28 and a mother of three. Again, TWENTY EIGHT AND A MOTHER OF THREE. She wasn't 7, she was 28.

Now it appears the family is suing the radio station over her death. I think it's sad that she died, but sadder that she believed she could actually win. I feel sorry for her children, her family and for the disc jockeys who hosted the event. Something is terribly wrong with this picture but the crazy thing is stuff like this happens everyday, 20 times a day all over the world. This particular one just happened to be highlighted probably because it 'sounds' so normal. A woman wanted to win a video game console for her little children so she entered a contest on a local radio station. Wrong move lady, wrong move. Excuse me, I need to pee now...

fvudck,edc up k,eyboazrdc

2007-01-20T11:26:00.000-08:00

I need help. I've put a call into my computer guy, but here I sit waiting and trying to figure out what the problem is. Here's a hint:jmy k,eyboazrdc isx azl.l. fvudck,edc upl. Get it? I said, my keyboard is all fucked up! It seems like the middle keys are the problem. Oh wait, it's also other keys- doubl.e l.ettersx azndc sxhitl. FVudck,!!! It'sx tazk,ing jme too l.ong to wriye thisx sxo I'jm gonel.l.l.\

Anyone have any ideas?! I spilled coffee on it a couple of weeks ago but it's been finel. I don't need this right now... SXhitk, thisx totazl.l.y sxudck,sxl.

destination unknown

2007-01-17T16:53:00.000-08:00

You know those Corona commercials where the guy's laying in the hammock and he he just can't reach his beer because his swing is out of sync? I can't seem to get the image out of my head...

Anyone been to The Bahamas? We are in the process of trying to decide where to go for 5 days in March. Maybe it's the Bahamas, or Mexico or The Dominican Republic or California or Florida. I want the trip to be easy and not too costly.

I'll tell you what I don't want and or need while on this excursion:
A family Scene /Kid Friendly
Crowds
Water Sports
Fear of danger if venturing outside the resort or hotel area
"Lagoon" Beaches (I want open sea)
The chance for bad weather
Tourist Attractions

Here's what I'm looking for:
Sun/Sand
Temps in the 80's
Great Food
A Comfortable Bed
Cold Beer
Space
Quiet
Beauty
This is what I'm thinking

Anyone got any suggestions?

are you an athlete?

2007-01-10T19:59:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday when we headed out to a premiere party for The L Word, we were handed a copy of episode 2 as soon as we entered the room. Since we cut the connection to our digital cable last year I accepted the DVD. After viewing episode 402, it's all we are going to get of the ladies until it comes out on rental. We watched it on Monday night and that'll probably be it until the finale- when we go to another bar to watch. I actually can't stand watching the show with other people around; I rarely laugh at what they find amusing, tap my feet to what they feel is musical, gasp at the words they find horrifying or clap at a scene they seem to think deserves attention. I also can't get myself to enter anyone else's private living room for a viewing party... the smells, the closeness of people, the strangeness- it's all just too much for me. Plus it freaks me out a little to watch The L Word up close and personal with other people- it's weird. I doesn't really matter because unlike zoe, I am willing to check out any and all previews, clips, articles, and postings on what has happened on each episode and it feels like I've watched it. I don't really care if i hear what's going on before I see it. All I really want to do is see it anyway, so when the DVD comes out on rental I'm perfectly happy.

We don't really watch tons of TV anymore, thankfully we have too many other things going on so we just couldn't justify spending the money on Showtime just to watch a bunch of fake lesbians have sex. Just didn't need it that much. We may have changed our mind and kept the Showtime if the writers didn't bring homely babies, cancer, totally unrealistic situations, 'boyfriends' , "Betty" and death into the mix, but they did. Let me stick with unrealistic situations for a minute. Without giving anything away, episode 402 has quite a few and I'm getting tired of it. People in real life don't have sex like that, as often as that and as simple as that. Do they? And come on now people, you all can't tell me that if after seeing this episode you saw Shane walking down the street you would actually look twice at her because of the attraction thing. Would you? In my opinion Shane has lost it. Period. Whatever she had in season 1 and 2 is gone- bye, bye Shane. (sorry) One more thing: who the hell wears shorts to a teaching assistant interview. No one, right? But the thing that got me started was the "are you an athlete" line. I get asked that exact question all the time - and it's not because I'm wearing sweat pants. But it never turns into that, or even eludes to it that directly... unless I'm just not seeing something, which I highly doubt.

It just sucks because for a brief moment in the history of The L Word, it all seemed so possible: the beautiful people, the cool jobs, the nice little writing hut, the family neighborhood, the lesbian owned coffee shop, (by day, bar by night- my dream) hot sex, excellent background music, good hair cuts, etc. Then something went terribly wrong. Instead of relying on quality, they decided to go with quantity. Gotta appeal to the general public- and men who like to watch lesbians I guess. Go figure.

Enjoy the season, if I were to take a guess I would think it will rank higher than season 3. Without Carmen I have no idea how but what the hell do I know.

they're back!

2007-01-07T14:06:00.000-08:00

We are off to watch the ladies. God help us all if this season sucks as bad as last.

We are headed out to a premiere party here, the place is actually more of a gay men's dance club than anything- figures they'd have it there. If I see more gay men tonight that women I'm out of there. As I've mentioned and ranted about before on this blog, Chicago has but one and only one, lesbian bar and the place is a pit, but all I'm saying is, that shouldn't the L Word premiere be in a lesbian bar and not just a gay dance club? Come on now, we don't have much but one thing we don't need more of is the gay men invading our space. Fuck, I'm so tired of it. At least in years past it was at a decent bar that we frequent often. But not this year. The event runs from 5-8 and at 7 the place is advertising 'Men's Latin Cowboy night'- this ought to be interesting to say the least.

Even last summer when we were strolling the streets of Provincetown, a car full of women pulled up to us and yelled out the window " we thought we were the only gay women around here!- nice to see you" At first I was thinking, thanks for actually noticing we were gay, no one ever does, (maybe we were holding hands-I don't remember) then I said to C. Love "damn! what's going on!" (we had already discussed the fact that we had only seen about 5 gay women and 500 gay men. We even stopped into the one mostly lesbian bar for a drink and the guy at the door said it was men's night! It's getting out of control and it only seems like it's getting worse, not better. It was actually better out and about five years ago than it is now.

So tonight begins another season of The L Word. I wish us all luck.

screw resolutions

2007-01-06T08:12:00.000-08:00

I've never really been a New Years resolution type of person; I could never look to the future for my here and now. As much as I could barely figure out my day to day progress, looking ahead to a whole year seemed like a pretty big mountain to climb. I always went completely blank in an interview (back in the day) when this question came up: Where to you see yourself in five years. Well, if I can get this fucking job and I like it enough to stay, then here bozo, here! What the hell is that question. But that was then and this is now.

For many years now the New Year has become just that- another year according to my calendar but not necessarily according to my 'life's 'path'. That my friends is why everyone sucks at keeping their resolutions, if it's not meant to be than you can't force it. Why people are convinced they need to all of a sudden set very strict boundaries on themselves or adopt huge life goals just because the calendar says January 1, is beyond me. For some reason it seems like the resolution thing is everywhere this year, I can't escape the insaneness of people thinking they are all of a sudden going to have a body like a professional athlete when they've been eating like crap for most of their lives. The leap is too much. I'm all for setting a vision for yourself of how you want things to be but if you're miserable while you're doing it that vision going to turn into a bad dream very quickly.

A New Year resolution to me is more like a decision, an understanding or a 'knowing' and less of a 'doing'- but that's just me and I definitely don't lead by example but whatever. Sometimes I think I'm way too laid back for my own good. I gave up coffee and alcohol for lent one year. I'm not even Catholic but I took that 30 day or whatever it is, opportunity to eliminate two things that I absolutely love just to see if I could. It was more of a test for my mental state than my body. I did fine, but refused to go anywhere where either one was being served so the test wasn't really accurate. My point is... I don't know what my point is, but I guess what I'm saying is that I admire people who make those lofty goals on January 1 and are able to see massive results by August 1. To me, whether it was January 1 or March 1, they were meant to achieve whatever they did that year and it was just the fact that it was offically the New Year that helped them get started. I like when the New Year is used as like a spring board and not a diving board. One day at a time, that's what I say. It doesn't hurt so much when you come back down.

Introductions

2006-12-30T14:10:00.000-08:00

Last week when I was home there were a couple of times when an introduction for C.Love was necessary; there was either a neighbor in the kitchen, a nurse at the hospital or a friend of the parents around who needed some explanation as to who she was. Since my sister is running on fast forward and is able to get words out of her mouth faster than I can blink my eye, she unfortunately owned all of the introductions. She beat me to it every time and it drove me insane. The problem was that she first introduced me and then immediately said "and this is her roommate"... roommate?!, fuck. If I heard that word one more time I swear if my dad wasn't sick I would have gone off- either by totally correcting her in front of everyone or actually (what I should have done) discussing it with her at a later time, but instead I sucked it up and let the anger sit inside me. I was able to beat her to the punch only once and proudly said aloud "this is my partner, C. Love." I realized this was my sister's issue but come on now, grow the fuck up! I can't stand it and it's just another one of those things I either need to let go of or talk to her about it and let her know that it's not right, she's not my roommate.

I was thinking about this, this morning when I read an article about Annie Liebowitz and her new book "A Photographer's Life,1990-2005". The book is a 'marriage', should we say between her two worlds: photographing celebrities and her private life, including her late 'companion' Susan Sontag. Annie was describing how she hates the word 'partner' when describing her relationship with Susan, instead she prefers the word 'lover'. Susan, she said was the love of her life but they had separate lives; they had separate apartments, did not co-parent and shared different views on life. But, as she said they were totally there for each other-they were in love. I guess to her the word lover cut through all the crap and described it best. Makes sense I guess.

I know every one's relationship is different and what may work for some people may not for others but it's hard for me to imagine being in love with someone and not living with them. I like sharing my life with C. Love, but I know many straight and gay couples who would prefer to live separate lives... whatever. So I was thinking about the word 'lover' and how much I hate that word to describe someone you are in relationship with; it not only sounds too sexual but one dimensional as well. I use the word 'partner' when describing C. Love and I, but that too sounds to professional, cold and without emotion or something. I want another word. Love, life partner, partner, companion, lover, even wife sounds a little corny to me. None of them work but until someone comes up with another, I guess "partner" will have to do. But the word roommate? ... I can't even believe it.

too much

2006-12-26T20:12:00.000-08:00

Sex in Maine while the parents are out, watching my mom break down on Christmas Eve because she was without her husband, listening to my 8 year old nephew play the trumpet, waiting for this trip to come to an end, craving vegetables, fighting back tears, experiencing another level to my relationship with C. Love- wanting my life back.

There's been so much going on in the last 5 days I can't even form complete sentences. My mind is full but I can't speak. In two days I head home to Chicago... I can't fucking wait-

Winter Solstice

2006-12-20T19:02:00.000-08:00

I feel like I have one more night to do all I can do, (whatever that is) to prepare myself for what's to come. Tomorrow morning we head out to Boston, pick up the rental car and from then on I have no idea what will transpire- both mentally or physically. The one thing I'm holding on to is the fact that Friday is Winter Solstice. Not only is it the shortest day and longest night of the year but the sun is at its lowest point in the sky. The good news and what I'm holding on to is from this day forward the days begin to get longer and the nights shorter. To me, that only means one thing: summer is on its way... I wait all year for this day.

This Winter Solstice thing couldn't come at a better time because come Friday my dad will still be in intensive care; C. Love and I will not know whether or not we will need to separate come Christmas morning; we may have to actually spend Christmas in the hospital; we will be freezing to death because my sister lives in a mansion(not really) and keeps her heat practically off; dinner will be out of our control unless we offer to cook; we will have to share a bathroom with my mom, (hopefully dad) and my two nephews and not have any idea what the coming days will be like. Maybe when the sun starts elevating again, other things in the universe will shift- like good health, prosperity and joy. I was really looking forward to going home this year- enjoying my family in Boston and then heading up to Maine to laugh and love with C. Love's family but now everything's up in the air. I may have to stick around Boston if my dad is still in the hospital but I don't want C. Love to not see her own family so she may take the four hour drive up North solo- I hate the thought of that.

It's hard to not have any idea how I'm going to feel when I'm at home. Usually whenever I see the family my guard is up, I stick close to the kids and steer clear of any political, social or spiritual conversations with the adults. I really don't want to burst into tears when I hug my dad or mom; I don't think I will, although I don't trust myself too much with this one. The crying I don't mind but the timing of it I do. I can't pay attention to anything else going on when I do so I'd rather save it. I just need to hang on and not let my mind dip into that fragile space but as we all know sometimes stopping that from happening is like stopping Winter Solstice from ever ending-it's impossible.

I have to hold on to the fact that my dad is still alive, it's still Christmas time, there's a beautiful golden retriever at the home we are staying at, my niece is performing in The Nutcracker in the Boston Ballet and last but not least, summer is right around the corner. Bring it on-

no comment

2006-12-14T05:26:00.000-08:00

Fuck, I can't seem to be able to leave any comments on certain blogs. One of them is you t2 and you too kelly. T2, I had no idea you were going to announce it to the world! Chill, we'll figure out the details- yes, I will be around but shhhhhh... and kelly I hope by now you're feeling better. Man, I loved being sick... sounds strange I know.

Well this week sucks. Sunday I found out my dad is back in the hospital in intensive care. He's still there, they think it's his heart but they're still not sure. Why they're not sure is beyond me. I can't stand thinking about him hooked up to machines, not eating and scared for his life. I can't stand it. I know he'll be ok, but it's a struggle waiting for that. Then on Tuesday I get a call at work that I need to go back to get a second mammogram because there was something not clear on the first one. Talk about a bad day: my dad practiacally (what feels like) on life support and my mamogram not cleared for take off. Next Thursday we head home for Christmas, I'm not sure anymore what that will be like, but I hope he'll be home by then. I have no idea.

I saw my energy healer yesterday and she helped to put my mind at ease around my dad and my boob- my thing is no big deal and he may need a heart procedure but again, it's not confirmed. Tonight we head out to C. Loves Christmas party at the zoo, should be fun- hopefully there will be some good-looking people to gaze at. I won't know anyone at this one so there will be a lot of introductions and simple conversation but the food sounds great and I'm sure there will be plenty of alcohol to keep me focused.

So anyway, what the hell is going on with not being able to comment?

Evening update: A quick thank you to all- my dad seems to be "sitting up in a chair" today and they have decided it's not his heart so he will be able to be home for Christmas. Much relief from this end. I'm off to a cool Christmas party so I better go get myself ready. Thank you all for your words and concern. Hey afunt, I was wondering what was going on with your other blog, I figured you just killed it. This issue sucks and someone better fix something fast. Catch you all on the flip side-

Sexy woman #10

2006-12-11T05:08:00.000-08:00

"REPRESENT"

Alexandra Hedison completes the list.

I still believe in something

2006-12-09T11:01:00.000-08:00

I'm going home for Christmas, home where my family is but I'll be at my sister's house sleeping in the basement on a pull out sofa- nothing like memories from the past.

If I had my wish I would have never grown up and remained a 5 yr old forever, of course this is an irrational thought but everything just felt so amazingly good when I was little that I can't help going back there in my mind- especially at Christmas time. (except when it was time to sit on santa's lap)

One recurring vision that comes up for me almost daily at this time of year is Christmas Eve, in the house I grew up in. Not only do I remember it like it was yesterday but I can literally feel the warmth and excitement inside my adult body when I imagine it, the exact same way I felt when I was 5, 6, 7 or 8. It was so strong back then I guess I could never let it go. Every Christmas Eve my family threw a huge open house for the neighborhood- some family members and anyone else who wanted to stop by were also invited. The excitement for me began as soon my little feet hit the floor first thing in the morning. Downstairs my mom was either fixing up the decorations in the living room or prepping something in the kitchen; my dad was usually making his ice block for the punch and then heading out to the store for anything we forgot to get, or he was collecting the fire wood from the back yard and piling it on the deck for later that night. My brother was typically in the basement playing with whatever he played with and my sister was hanging out in her (our) room, wrapping gifts or just being "the sister". The Christmas music was blaring, the tree was lit and the kitchen always smelled so good. My heart was definitely pumping a bit faster the whole day while everyone prepped for the evening festivities and then as soon as the sun set, it was like the curtain had been lifted: it was my job to go around to every room and turn on the window candle lights and flick on the big switch which was the spotlight to the front door. The stage was set. The dining room table was filled with food, the punch was made and presented, the bar was stocked, the dog was put in the upstairs bedroom until the guests started to settle in, the kitchen was warm, the fire was lit, the holiday music was filling the house, my parents looked all dressed up and beautiful and everything was right with my little world. The anticipation of Christmas Eve- late night and Christmas morning was mounting. I remember feeling so happy, so content like I was going to burst.

The evening was always a hit, people seemed to get pleasantly drunk but as I got older I always felt they were so relaxed and intoxicated not so much because of that punch but more so because of the ambiance and good cheer. My parents knew how to throw a warm, easy, comfortable party and people ate it up. The vision that remains strong in my head today is the thought of myself sitting at the top of the stairs later in the night after I had been kissed goodnight and put to bed and and while the party continued into the late night (late night for me then-9-10 pm) I was so sleepy but I remember feeling like I just had to listen to the sounds- the music was softer, the laughter turned to light conversation, the smell turned to coffee and remains from the fire, the air felt thick with all things good and I was semi awake when I should have been sleeping. It was so exciting. I would sit there with my knees to my chin until I heard the last goodbye, the spotlight turned off and my dad say he was going into the basement to get the gifts. That was my cue to hop back into bed and dream the good dreams.

To this day I still love the light from the Christmas tree, deviled eggs, holiday punch, watching the embers from the fire die out, the anticipation, late night Christmas eve and eating a brownie or Christmas cookie one last time before brushing up for bed. My house was always so full of Christmas with the colored lights, the smells, the energy and the love. I miss that house a lot; Christmas has never been the same anywhere else but I still have the love from the family, maybe some deviled eggs, definitely a fire in the fireplace and my mom and dad to kiss me good night. But I still wish I was young enough to not feel so thankful for it and just revel in the excitement of it all.

comfort control

2006-12-06T05:29:00.000-08:00

There are tons of things we do in life to help ourselves feel better in a not so comfortable situation. For example, sometimes certain music may calm us down if we're driving alone in an unfamiliar environment. Or maybe we'll stick closely to our partner at a party for that extra moral support. I've been known to purposely arrive early and hang out for awhile when I'm headed into a situation that makes me feel nervous. I like to just sit and try to get in control.

Today I have to have my mammogram and I choose to have it here. The hospital has a whole little set up in the corner of the women's department; no one would even know it was there if they weren't looking for it. Who the fuck wants to go to a cold, nasty hospital and pay for parking to get their boobs squished. Not me. I like going where it doesn't feel so medical and severe and it smells good. This appoinment is not the most relaxing 15 minutes for most women especially if it may not be a 'routine' appointment. It's not that I enjoy going, but I don't really mind it when I go to this place, I want to thank someone but I don't who to thank.

I need a new shirt to complete my outfit for Saturday night- maybe I can find one after the squishing.

Sexy woman #9

2006-12-04T05:01:00.000-08:00

I gotta do it, I have to put her on the list but I can't believe I'm actually saying it. Probably the only reason she's popping into my head at this particular moment is because of what I saw over Thanksgiving weekend, and it's only a week later so it's still fresh in my mind. Otherwise I'm sure there would be another beautiful, voluptous woman taking the #9 spot.

Now this pick's sexiness has nothing to do with looks; appearance maybe, but not actual facial features per say. Let me first state that I've never really been any kind of a Madonna fan. I've never seen her live, own only one album and always turn her off whenever she comes on the radio. I do however love to watch her perform and believe she totally exudes sexiness during (most of) her performances. On Nov 24, I caught The Confessions Tour on NBC and couldn't take my eyes off the set. I remember saying to C.Love half way through "I'm liking this a lot", and I never say stuff like that. I was obsessed with that show mostly because it was pure entertainment at its best -from a high energy, big budget, professional standpoint. But between all the hoopla there was one common thread: SEX- and it was intense. The woman is damn sexy when she sings. I know this is nothing new, Madonna has been linked with the word and meaning of 'sex' for years and for many different reasons, but I'm talking about the kind of sex that is not particularly spelled out for you with whips and chains. Her body is fantastic, her moves are sensual and her confidence is overwhelmingly real. Her body is hot and tight and combine that with some of those dance moves forget about it. But I'm a sucker for sexy dancing, I don't care who's doing it- it gets me every time.

I know mentioning the name Madonna stirs up a lot but all I want to focus on here is the fact that she is a sexy woman when she is on that stage, especially lately. Plus the woman is 48. That's all I have to say (as I cover my ears) ...

Winter storm watch pt 2

2006-12-01T10:27:00.000-08:00

This is funny, I'm home from work again today but I had every intention of going in- even with the fucking snow storm still swirling about. I got up on time, downed my coffee, read the paper, cleaned off both the cars and then got a message from my boss saying that it was ok if I wanted to take another day to 'rest up' because it wasn't going to be busy due to the storm. Hell yah! At first I thought, well I'm up and ready to go so I might as well, then when I took an extra long time putting on my shoes and looking for my ipod I started to think about my decision. What am I stupid!, my boss actually called me and said I could have another sick day and it's Friday -so I called her back and told her I was going to accept her generous offer.

So here I sit again on the couch with my laptop appropriately on the lap and food network on the television. Oh, and looky there on the tv I see Giata... excellent. It's weird being home two days in a row; I just sit here all day doing nothing but it's great! I totally long for these days when I can just be- just do whatever the hell I want to do. I'm not bored at all, I actually feel inspired, motivated (which I rarely feel) and rested. I love hanging out and when you work 40 hrs a week you don't get much time to just hang, there's too much to do. I'm not sick enough to feel disoriented or fuzzy like Claire, just a little tired and not 100% right.

I have a six pack (well now it's a four pack) in my fridge. That's not odd but the bizarre thing is that it's been in there for close to 2 weeks. Two weeks! Six packs don't last in my fridge for longer than 2, 3 days. I can't wait to feel better so I can finish it off. I was just sitting here thinking about something zoe said in a comment. She was saying she didn't think people would actually like her if they met her. I don't get that, she seems very likable and might I add quite a popular blogger- as far as bloggers go. Strange the way people think sometimes, but stranger than that is that I think I could have this laptop on my lap for days on end. I'm pretty sure C. Love would eventually throw it across the room though if I were like this but not home sick from work.

I better do something productive like check my e-mail or maybe do some more Christmas shopping on line. Giata's off anyway... I'm glad she made my list, I still think it everytime I see her. She makes me feel better.

Evening update: Shit, rough night ahead. C.Love has just left the house to go to a party/fundraiser here and she looked and felt very 'hot' as I kissed her goodbye. Ok, now this sickness thing is getting on my nerves. I should have sucked it up and gone with her but I can't stop blowing my fucking nose! This is going to be hard, real hard- I'm always next to her.