Love at First Sight

I was just reading this post that I wrote last August. Every single word still rings true seven months later-except the title. I am in love with Cape Cod and when things don’t feel good wherever I am, I think about the Cape. I can’t help it. I was going to write about the fact that I just opened a bottle of wine from our party and how it doesn’t really taste so good; I don’t know why I’m drinking it. My frozen pizza is pretty good though… hmmm, something seems off… So I went to my old post for some comforting thoughts when I started thinking about how many people have had dysfunctional parents and therefore, troubled childhoods. It makes me so sad every time I hear anything about any child suffering in any way. I have no idea how I went from frozen pizza to abused children and before your mind gets a hold of you, don’t worry I’m not going there. I can’t. Instead I thought I would take this opportunity to work on a writing piece that I have going now; although I’m not sure where it’s going, if only to my parents.

My parents have been married for like 46, 47, 48 years. I’m not sure at this very moment because I refuse to get up and check. They met each other, in my belief, due to fate and the universe at work. Ever since I heard the story I like to pretend it’s my own personal fairy tale come true. I feel so very fortunate to not only share it with others because of the warmth it brings to them but more so because I am a product of it. I share so much of my parents strength and love it’s sometimes overwhelmingly eerie. They met each other on the beaches of Cape Cod. I’ve always said the Cape is very powerful, there’s something going on there that is a force only the ocean and whatever is in that breeze can control. My parent got swept up in that force, fell in love and let the Cape take hold. And I’m ever so thankful they did.

They met in 1958 in true Frankie and Annette fashion: on the beach in the summer, with their friends and their blankets. My dad was down there building a house with his family when my mom’s sister was visiting on the same road. One day my mom’s sister was walking to the beach and she passed the house my dad was working on when he and his brother happened to be hanging out…looking out the window. The hammers and nails were dropped, bathing suits put on and they immediately went down to the beach to find out who the blond bomb shell was. I guess words were exchanged, but I’m a little unclear about the details. Every time I ask my parents for a re-enactment they can’t seem to remember so clearly. Oh well. The point is that the next day my future aunt got on the phone to her sister and told her she needed to come down to the Cape because there were two “good-looking” guys new to the neighborhood and one of them she just had to meet. So my mom did just that: scheduled a vacation, hopped the train from New York City and met her sister on the beach. She also met you know who… my dad. They immediately hit it off, spend the entire day on the beach and made a date for later that night. Three dates later they were engaged... I know. My dad popped the question on their fourth date at the movie theatre; my mom says she knew it was going to happen, she just felt it. The funny thing is that my dad was actually dating someone pretty seriously at the time, but a soon as he set eyes on my mom his world totally became all her. He pitched the old girlfriend the next day and spent four days basking in love, lust and the ocean air on Cape Cod with my mom! Their third date was at a really cool bar called the Woodshed, and strangely enough I hung out there when I was growing up and it still stands strong today.

Their story amazes me because it is about my own parents but the fact that they fell in love while on Cape Cod is even more special. I know why I love the Cape, I have history there and I believe part of my soul remains there which is why I feel so much more at peace when I can bask in the aura of it. I got to spend every summer as a kid at my grandmother’s house, the one my dad was building and now my parents live year round across the street from that very home. The day we sold my grandmother’s house I remember crying. I wasn’t really sure why, I just didn’t want to let it go. Over the years I learned that it wasn’t the actual house I didn’t want to let go of it was the connection I had with my parents, the cape and our family dynamics. I miss being a little kid on Cape Cod in the summer, but I love being an adult on Cape Cod. Five more months…

The power of now

Every Saturday I go for a run down to the lakefront, it’s only about a mile down but to make it longer I do a huge loop. Today I wore my Boston Red Sox knit hat because my blogging buddy Kelly got me all excited about New England and baseball season. Damn her. It’s still 40 degrees with no warm up in sight; but as chilly as it was on the lake a hint of spring was definitely in the air. The sun has real warmth to it and you can tell by the sky that it’s not January sun. Just a little while longer I guess.

I have an uncontrollable need to run down to lake whenever I go out because it oddly feels like an escape into endless possibility. I can’t breathe during the week, mentally or physically because of the state of mind I’m in these days. I’ve been feeling trapped, stuck, frustrated, and today- quite sad. I’m not happy with where I am in my life and I want things to change. When I run down to the lake my mind opens up and I can breath. I’m usually able to write a potential article or post in my head every time or get some sort of inspiring thought along the way. Monday through Friday I’m shut down and it sucks big time. I hate my job because of how mind numbing it actually is. I work in a basement which is kind of ironic because I remember wanting to spend endless amounts of time in my basement as a little kid; by myself with my records. I don’t want to do it anymore, now I have my CD’s, but it doesn’t feel good. It’s not like I don’t see the light of day from 9-4, I get outside once in awhile and head to the other part of the building where the sky light and doors are but the trapped feeling remains. I made the decision many, many years ago that I would never put myself into a job that I hated, so I worked in the music buisness and life was grand. No money, but life was grand. Then somehow I ended up in the job I am in now and have been there for close to 9 or 10 years-I don’t even know. I never hated my job and I don’t really hate it now, I’m just fed up with everything surrounding it and my mind is turning to mush. The job has been very enjoyable over the years: entertaining, comfortable, easy, pays well, good insurance, flexibility around my schedule, no weekends and I’ve made some long lasting friendships. All of that has been wonderful but over the last year or so it has become increasingly unbearable to be there. My soul is not aligned with my work and when that happens -look out. I try to accept the frustration as a positive force because now maybe I’ll make some sort of move, whereas for the last 8 years I’ve been basking in the convenience of the job and meandering through life.

There are too many times in a week that I say ‘I don’t want to do this”, or “I wish …”, or “I want…” I’m tired of wanting for more when all I really have to do is go out and get it; that’s the hard part. That’s what takes determination, discipline, commitment, hard work, and lots of faith. I don’t want it to be warm out when it’s not, I don’t want to be driving a 1990 Toyota Camry that was handed to me from my girlfriends parents when all I want is a Jeep Wrangler. I don’t want to come home from work and turn on the TV or computer and pour a glass of red wine when what I really want is to step out onto my porch with brarefeet and a beer because it’s too hot for red wine. I don’t want to dream about heading to Cape Cod for two months in the summer when all I get is a week in August with my parents. (not that I’m not thankful for that), I don’t want to work in a basement, I want to be creative from my own home, I want kids to have already read my picture book and not hate the fact that it’s really only in idea form on my computer. I don’t want to argue with my girlfriend about money, all I want to do is spend it with her and not have to worry, and I don’t want to blog about what I want, I’d rather live the live I’ve imagined where I've imagined it.

I’ve made the decision to make my living as a writer about two years ago. I was fortunate to get published within that first year and then again a bit later but nothing since and I’m starting to worry. I’m concerned because I know in my heart of hearts I don’t want to go the freelance route-that completely sucks. I’m not sure how I want to write or even if I want to write at all. I actually hate the act of writing. I’ve recently hired a writing coach to help me along. At times I feel guilty with wanting more when so many people have less, but I keep telling myself that they can have more to-everyone can. On my run I was thinking about how much I actually do have in my life and to try to concentrate on that instead when I remembered The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. He’s a great spiritual teacher. When I came back from my run I remembered we had some The Power of Now inspirational cards collecting dust under our coffee table and I opened it up. The one on top was “the power of being present.”

The struggle with the power of being present in life is one that haunts me; and one I need to work on because I know it could help me out. My partner and I are very spiritual people; not in the religious sense, but in the universal sense. I believe that everything happens for a reason and we are all exactly where we are supposed to be at every moment. But that’s a difficult concept to grasp, especially when your mind tends to wander. I guess I’ll work on that tonight; C. Love comes home in two hours. I guess it’s time to get in the shower, get dinner figured out, clean up the mess I made from the day, chill the wine and be thankful I can do all that.

The card said this: "Make it a habit"- To monitor your mental-emotional state through self observation. "Am I at ease at this moment?" is a good question to ask yourself frequently. Or youcan ask: "What's going on inside me at this moment?". You want to know what I say to that? No and I'm starving.

California Dreaming

I don’t know if it’s a sign or not- probably not, but 8 out of 10 bloggers I click on are from California. What’s the deal? We’ve been thinking lately about the potential of relocating to sunny California and after freezing my ass off on my run yesterday the thought became more of a stream of consciousness than a passing thought. I can’t quite shake it.

This weather just sucks big time. Today the high is 42, with no warm up in sight. I hate the cold; I hate winter coats, sweaters, gloves, runny noses, forced heat, keeping my windows closed and eating soup. I’m sick of oatmeal and soup, but they warm the belly, so I swallow it- so does red wine and I’m even tired of that. Bring on the summer brews, flip flops and tank tops. I grew up in Boston where my dad made all the money so I had no worries, I now live in Evanston, IL where it’s not the most affordable city to live in and I’m thinking about California?….I know that place is anything but cheap. I’m doomed.

For those of you who know; correct me if I'm wrong but the draw to CA is the abundance of mouth watering fruits and healthy food, sunny days that are actually warm, an energy permeating the air that is filled with contentment, and a lightheartedness that for some bizarre reason is hard to pin point. I’m not going to be able to walk around coatless for probably another two full months, and even then I can’t go anywhere without some sort of second layer because of the air conditioning. I absolutely hate air conditioning; we only own one because of our dog (he’s since passed) the little guy needed a place to stay cool during those rare Midwest heat waves- you know?

The only reason we live in Chicago is because my girlfriend went to Northwestern grad school and when I came out from Boston to visit we kind of both fell in love with Evanston, IL. It’s a very cool city and it’s pretty much the only reason we stay here. Well, I shouldn’t say the sole reason; both of our families are back in Beantown and the distance from all of them excluding the niece and nephews is wonderful. We tend to revert back to feeling like we’re seven when we are near our families and it sucks. The weather out here is the same as the Northeast, it may even be better because of the lack of snow Chicago has gotten lately. The problem is that winter lingers on into May and picks up again in October, what kind of life is this? It’s a sucky one I tell ya-

We have some family in San Fran and both of us have careers we can pack up and move with; C. Love’s coaching practice is all done over the phone and I don’t have a career just yet-I’m struggling towards it. (The writing thing) Folks in the Midwest aren’t as open to change as much as Californians are so it seems like a logical move for the business and hell I can write anywhere and am always more inspired when I’m near the ocean so why not. Because it’s a big move.

Give me hot, humid ,sunny days and warm sultry nights, a couple of summer brews, a grill, a porch or deck, some good tunes, a day off (or not) and I’m good. Give me snow on March 24th and I’m not good. Maybe our dream will become a reality some day but for now I need to get my ass off the couch and go clean off and warm up my car.

Crash. If only-

I've just now rented and have seen the award winning movie “Crash”. I'm actually at a loss for words, not because I'm shocked at its intensity, but more so due to the in your face stereotypical nature of the film. Within 10 minutes we had the DVD player on pause because we had to discuss; “is everything so obvious for a reason?” There’s a racial thing there… and there, and there, and now there, and then again there, and there, oh there’s another one, and…there! Enough already!

I get it, it’s a movie about racism and yes it certainly got me thinking, but is everyone so stupid that they need it shoved in their faces? I really don’t think so, but it seems so popular I wonder if they do. Am I missing something here? Messages are more meaningful to me when they’re subtle, not when it’s spelled out in black and white-unless I’m just clueless to the situation. I was just waiting for Ryan Phillippe’s character to be gay, then we’d have all our bases covered.

We actually had to listen to the commentary the next night because we were so baffled by it. We thought maybe they portrayed these racist situations so belatedly for a reason and we just weren’t getting it. Nope. Can anyone help me out here? What’s going on?

Music to drink by

The top seven from the last post were only the top seven of the past week. Top seven ever?, now that would take some time and I actually don’t think I could do it.

Here’s that party playlist:

DISC 1 -August 2005- "In Between Days"
How To Be Dead- Snow Patrol
Be Mine- David Gray
Red Light- Johnny Lang
Look What You’ve Done- Jet
In The Sun- Joseph Arthur
Older Chests- Damien Rice
Sunshine- keane
Vicious World- Rufus Wainwright
La Cienga Just Smiled- Ryan Adams
Touble (acoustic)- Pink
Burning In The Sun- Blue Merle
Falling at Your Feet- Daniel Lanois
Yahweh- U2
Let Me Go Easy- Indigo Girls
First Day Of My Life- Bright Eyes
Lost Cause- Beck
Say Yes- Elliott Smith
Safe- Travis
Build- Housemartins

DISC 2- “Just One”
Each and Every One- Everything But The Girl
Tupelo Honey(live)- Van Morrison
We Are In Love- Harry Connick, Jr.
Ever Changing Moods (live)- Style Council
Overkill(Acoustic)- Colin Hay
Dancing In The Moonlight- Thin Lizzy
I Met a Girl- Wheat
Hands Down- Dashboard Confessional
Girl- Beck
Forever Young- Youth Group
Big Sur- The Thrills
Wonderwall- Ryan Adams
Sit Down- James
High- The Cure
Bend and Break- Keane
Iwoya- Angelique Kidjo & Dave Matthews
Hey Man- Nelly Furtado
I Can’t Wait To Meetchu- Macy Gray
Make Your Own Kind Of Music- Cass Elliot

DISC 3- Compliments from my friend from my days working in the record store.
Edge of the Ocean- Ivy
Godless- Dandy Warhols
Quierro Verte Sonreir- Carlos Vives
Sing Me Spanish Techno- New Pornographers
Feel Good Inc.- Gorillaz
Take What I can Get- Fine Young Cannibals
So Nice – Beble Gilberto
I Will Dare- Replacements
Mentira- LaLays
Ring The Bells- Mike Doughty
Powerless- Nelly Furtado
Long Time Coming- DeLays
FijateBien- Juanes
Chocolate- Snow Patrol
Summer Wine- Corrs and Bono
Nada Serio- Julieta Venegas
16 Military Wives- Decemberists
I Can See Clearly Now – Johnny Nash

DISC 4- “C. Love’s dance picks"
Electric Barberella- Duran, Duran
The Way You Move- Outcast & Sleepy Brown
Love Will Never Do Without You- Janet Jackson
Gold Digger- Kanye West
Girls On Film- Duran, Duran
Hey Mama- Black Eyed Peas
Push it (remix)- Salt-N-Pepa
Don’t Look Back- Fine Young Cannibals
Rock Your Body- Justin Timberlake
Together Again- Janet Jackson
Opportunities- Pet Shop Boys
The Rockafella Shank- Fatboy Slim
Stand Above Me- OMD
Suavemente- Elvis Crespo
Switch- Will Smith
Signs- Snoop Dogg, Charlie Wilson & Justin T.

DISC 5 – Macy Gray, various

That took care of us from 7:30-1:30

The drawing is from a dude named Drew. His site is www.toothpastefordinner.com

You're it

Phew. Feels like I’ve been out of town for a month and locked in a room with no windows and it’s only because I haven’t had any internet service for 4 days, but I’m back on line now. It’s a good thing because the depression was starting to kick in last night, but I don’t want to go back there so I’m moving on.

Apparently I’ve been “tagged” by my best blogging friend, the mad hatter and I now have to come up with seven of my favorite songs… No problem, music is something I can discuss any time. It’s kind of funny because I had planned to write about all the tunes I played at my party when I lost access to the internet, so the timing for this task is perfect. I’ll still get to the play list for the party but that could take a while to compose so for now here are seven songs that I’ve been drawn to over the last…well seven days:

Forever Young - Youth Group. I’ve always loved the original from Alphaville, but when I first heard a portion of this song from Youth Group on The O.C, I immediately knew I had to download it and listen to it in its entirety in the comfort of my own living room.

In The Sun- Michael Stipe. Again, love the original by Joseph Arthur but when I heard Stipes’ rendition on the radio one day I pretty much froze in my tracks. His voice, as usual makes me just want to sit down, focus and listen to whatever the hell he’s singing.

Iowya- Angelique Kijo. This particular track from Angelique is probably the most radio friendly one she ever did; world music is her genre and Iowya makes you want to dance to that African rhythm. Dave Matthews is a guest on this one and he fits like a glove.

I Met a Girl- Wheat. Great tune; fun, fun and more cool fun.

Sing Me Spanish Techno- New pornographers. This particular tune made the party playlist also and it just gets the juices flowing…

Yahweh- U2. “How to Dismantle An Atomic Bomb” has been on my top five since its debut and this particular track is one of my favorites. It’s in the car, on at work, in the player at home and on the ipod. I love it.

Curly Locks- Sinead O’Connor. Reggae Sinead: interesting, enjoyable and with this one quite sexy.

That’s it, the seven that got the most airplay in my world. It’s your turn. Pick whatever you’ve been drawn to lately musically, but just pick your top seven. Why seven? I have no idea. Go…

Zoe

Arcane One

Tara Dharma

Jenni Spinner

Los Angeles Lesbian

Mac

C.Love (guest star)

From chaos to calm

I love when something I’ve either said or believed in is shown to be true; pigs in a blanket are an excellent example. For years I’ve always said that particular hors d’oeuvre is one of the best ideas to either bring to a gathering or serve at your own and I have been proven correct in my thinking time and time again. Last night I made 100 piggies in little blankets and every single one was eaten before midnight. Excellent!

My party was a success, but I’m so glad it’s over. The Invitation was for 8 o’clock, the first guest came at 7:30 and the last left around one. The one thing I was obsessed with all week long was the music for the party and that seemed like it was unimportant; music, plenty of alcohol and ambiance are all you need, in my opinion for a successful party. And of course at least two very social people who can work the crowd- the rest will take care of itself. I consider myself a pretty good planner when it comes to having people over to drink. Whether they’re coming for cocktails or a huge bash, the basic preparation is the same: a clean home, plenty of wine and beer, a non alcoholic choice, low lighting (this is soooooo important), and good tunes. The type of food and music changes depending on the event. I created two new mixed cd’s for the 5 disc changer so I wouldn’t have to worry about it for at least 5-6 hours. The first one was a mixed cd I made last summer, it was a little mellow and good music for arriving guests. The second one was a little more up tempo but still on the mellow side to get the people in the mood to drink. The third was an even livelier one with music you could tap your feet to- or drink faster to. The fourth was a dance cd. My partner made that one; she’s into some of the hip-hop/techno 80’s/ pop stuff while I tend to stick with the not so trendy, non radio hits.

Besides the music, the alcohol flowed, food got eaten, weather cooperated so the smokers could hang on the back porch and kitty only had to be put into a room once for fear of her escaping. All in all it was a fun evening, but as I said I’m glad it’s over. Too much work has to go into preparing for a party and for the last 2 weeks my life has been put on hold because of it. When I’m not able to focus on myself and on my own thoughts I tend to feel disconnected from everything including myself. I hate not feeling grounded which is probably why I was obsessed about making those cd’s for the event. At least music grounds me and focusing on that helped with all the other crap; like invitees, cleaning and having soda in the house. I hate to have to buy soda.

A few things have emerged from the event that I’m not so proud of. Sometimes when I’m under the influence of alcohol I tend to speak without thinking and I said something a bit hurtful to someone. I’m not much of a talker at all in life, I’d much rather sit back, observe and listen, but give me some drinks after not eating all day and I have no problem telling it like it is. God, I’m embarrassed just talking about it. (It doesn’t happen often) Anyway, my friend was there with her husband and just last week they decided to give up their little kitten for adoption because they were having an issue with it peeing on everything and everyone… understandable, right? O.k., they got this kitten because their other cat escaped out the back door- never to be found. The new kitty was fine for months and months, then all of a sudden stated to pee in their bed, on the couch, on the dog, etc. and within days they made the joint decision to get rid of it. That’s where I don’t get it-at all, the decision was too sudden. So at the party we were laughing about something and this person’s name came up in regards to having children; my ears perked up, mouth opened and I said “Mary (not her real name) can’t have any kids, she can’t even keep a kitten in her home.” I totally meant it as a joke, but within an hour later she had me cornered in the kitchen telling me I upset her, and she was starting to cry. Cry? Pleeeeease don’t… I totally explained to her that I understood why they did it and it was my issue; I put animals on the same level as people. You can’t give back a child; you can’t give back an animal just because you don’t know what to do. Now I know it sucks when the cat pees on the sofa and bed and everything stinks- but don’t you try to figure out WHY it’s doing it? I mean, come on now…am I being silly or what? She totally feels horribly about it but I knew she did when I said what I said, which is why I shouldn’t have said it. I apologized to her today and told her a joke isn’t funny if it touches upon an issue and I’m very sorry to have upset her. I felt like an idiot.

I believe it's time to get back to reading The Four Agreements, It’s really hard to speak all the right things all the time, but I always wonder why that is. The fact that I felt so badly about what I said tells me that it’s just stuff I have going on inside myself right now. I’m not perfect. She told me that I helped her to realize some things that she just couldn’t get to and was unaware of, but that she knows. She gave me a hug and we're good. Good.

Everything’s cool now, except for the fact that she still doesn’t have a cat in her home, I had to throw out some beer and I have too much dip in my fridge. The good thing about all of this is I have enough wine in the house to not have to buy it in maybe a month. Excellent.

FUCK!!!!!!!

It’s five hours before the people start pouring in and my partner just called me and said, “We have a slight problem”. So being my calm self I say, “O.k., what’s wrong?”…

To make a long story short because the last thing I should be doing is blogging when I have 50 plus people coming over in four hours. I still have to go get ice and make the champagne punch, but this feels more important right now. We decided to throw a party to celebrate my partners birthday and finishing her certification process in Life Coaching. The party was originally going to be an invitation only gathering with some close friends and colleagues, but since we work with a bunch of young people it has turned into a bash with pretty much everyone at our work place and a few outside friends. We decided to send out “evites” to make it a little more formal and fun for us which turned into an obsession on my part by checking morning and all night to see who had responded, but that’s another story. We only sent invitations to a handful of people we actually work with; myself on Monday-Friday and my partner Tuesdays and Saturdays. The ages range from 18-60 but at times you’d swear everyone was still in junior high by their actions. The problem came up when one of the 18 year olds randomly asked another co-worker if they were going to our party and the random person responded with…I wasn’t invited. FUCK!!! This is why you should never befriend an 18 year old unless you’re …18. We’re like fucking movie stars at that place, but it sucks because we’re really not- we’re just gay. Apparently people like to be around gay people when it's convienent for them…go figure. I’m going to sound all high and mighty but it’s just to exaggerate my point. We can never have any type of gathering with any one from work without everyone else feeling left out, what the hell. I can’t stand it when other people’s insecurity gets in my way. We are both very well liked, my partner because of her sincerity, warmth, sense of humor, and innate ability to make people feel comfortable; and me because of my aloofness, calmness and kindness. Plus I tend to give off a sense of strength and mystery which everyone seems to be attracted to in one way or another. If people are not invited they immediately jump to a “not liking” thing and it’s just not true.

So now word is out that the friendly lesbians are having a party and some people are invited and others are not and feelings are being hurt. My partner can’t stand it when others feel hurt and I can’t stand it when others are hurt and angry at me when I didn’t do anything wrong. We have a right to only invite certain people, don’t we? It’s not an open house; it’s a birthday party… Fuck this sucks. I just wanted to have a fun party with my piggies in their blankets, hot wings and beer. Now it’s a fucking huge deal with everyone acting like two year olds. I’m sorry if I hurt anyone’s feelings, but I can’t worry about that right now. That’s their issue, right?

Three hours later... it's only like one hour away. It's strange because it's so quiet in here: the music is set but not on, kitty is sleeping, partner is not home yet...hmm... , I still need ice and I still have to make that punch. I'm getting kind of nervous, what the hell. We've had huge parties many times before. Maybe I'm anticipating something? Who knows, all I do know is that within two hours this place will be totally different. If anyone spills anything... I think I need a beer. Good luck to me.

Drink up

Here's to beer. The one good thing about catching the Olympics tonight was this ad... oh and watching the fumbling Italians make up.

"I hate you, you're thin..."

Obsession is defined as a compulsive, often unreasonable idea or emotion. That said, I would like to dedicate this post to my confession of being somewhat obsessed with people’s appearance or in other words with their attractiveness. I am in no way, shape or form stating that I am a better or more important person than someone else because I happen to concern myself with the way people look. Some people find me attractive, some don’t. Just like others do to you. If I wasn’t myself, I would think I was more attractive than not, but that’s not my point. Plus that sounds really arrogant, and I’m honestly not that way. I simply believe everyone looks better from the inside out when the outside is taken care of. We’re talking style here people; not In Style as in the magazine, just stylish. I’ve been accused of sounding shallow and a bit harsh in some of my writing when discussing body parts, lesbians, and looks in general- guilty as charged. I like to look at the beautiful people. I may sound shallow and I am well aware of it, but unfortunately I carry some anger around the subject, so my language may sound a little harsh at times - I’m sorry if I offend anyone. This has to do with me and my own issues. When discussing the subject, I honestly never intend to make anyone feel badly about themselves; that’s your issue – own it.

For most of my life, (excluding the baby years) I have been judged because of my size, and it's strangely, usually anything but positive. I consider myself a very average woman: 5’4”, 105lbs. Some may consider this “tiny” but -whatever. Some have called me frail, or underweight, or unhealthy and have even accused me of being on cocaine. Most people assume I am a vegetarian or just never eat- at all, which is not true and the complete opposite. People have said they “hate me” because of how I look, but most of the time think I’m just going to: a) fall in the toilet or b) fly away in the wind. What the fuck! The toilet comment was actually directed towards my partner from a woman twice her size in width and completely consumed with the size of her own colossal ass! I am so tired of people constantly commenting on how thin I am when they are obviously tormented by it because they have an issue with their own weight or body image and I'm tired of it. I get it all the time and always from women wanting to put me down (literally) because the light I’m holding is just too damn bright for them. My anger erupts when I ever dare dream about telling someone how “fat” or unhealthy they are or how huge I think their ass is when they confront me. I would totally be considered an insensitive, superficial person. How dare I comment on their weight- I would never. But please feel free to say to us thin people, in one sentence, in the same breath: “I hate you! You're sooooo thin, are you o.k.?!” Because we’re thin and don't mind the fact, it feels as though anyone can say whatever the hell they want to us, but since overweight people have “an issue” no one is allowed to mention their size at all. Ever. It doesn't seem fair. My dad always used to say, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” HELLO!!

Since I’ve been talking about lesbians lately and for some bizarre reason fascinated with everything surrounding them, I can’t help but talk about their attractiveness. Lesbos are stereotypically overweight and not overly bothered with their presentation. This is no secret. I’d like to believe this is “old school” mentality but when I attempted to break into the “community” a short time ago, unfortunately the improvised look was out, or in - loud and proud. And still is. Check out Ellen’s audience –not so pretty. It just seems to me that things need to start shifting. The "L Word" was a start, but things seem to be stuck. I’m sorry that I love looking at beautiful people and since I’m a lesbian I would like to look at other attractive lesbians. Period. If that makes me shallow than throw dirt on me-I’m down for the count. I am a very visual person and yes, it’s killing me not knowing what the hell everyone in this blogging world looks like, but if I enjoy what they have to say, what they happen to be wearing when they say it is irrelevant.

So I confess. To what I’m not sure, but I felt the need to say whatever it was I said. Superficial or not. At least I don’t wear my issues – I try to get rid of them. And again, I'm sorry if I have offended anyone out there - I can take the heat.

BIRTHDAY CHEER

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone, and a very happy birthday to ME. Yes, I was born on Valentine's Day, just as my mom predicted. She was convinced her third born was going to be a redhead born on Feb 14. She just knew. Cheers to love.
Gotta go enjoy the festivities...

Dazed and Confused

I feel like how my kitty looks: tired and dazed. And fuzzy.

I just found out that "Love Monkey" got cancelled. I loved that damn show. It wasn’t that it was a cancel all plans, stay at home great show- it was just entertaining. I used to work in the music business for a number of years so it was fun to watch a show about music. Good music.

Shit, I don’t get it. CBS sucks so I don’t think it should have been on that station to begin with; the only people who watch CBS are old folks and people obsessed with crime shows-whatever. But they didn’t even give Love Monkey a chance; it was only on like 4 times, what the hell! That young punk, Teddy Geiger was reason enough to keep the show on the air, that kid is fantastic. I don’t care if he’s twelve (he’s 17) because he sings like he’s living in the body of a 47 year old. The guy is intense and so way beyond his years it’s amazing. His timing is perfect since John Mayer is preoccupied with the blues scene we need another guy with a guitar and soft, intimate vocals. Teddy is as natural to the music scene as chocolate is to Valentines Day. Anyway my review of Teddy Geiger’s album will be posted on my other obsession next month.

So I guess the only reason I’ll tune into CBS will remain the same, because of Letterman. It upsets me when quality television doesn’t last and when I just can’t figure out why,like when "Felicity" went off the air- I don’t get it. On a totally different subject, I’m also a little confused today over long, puffy, winter coats. I’m sorry if I’m offending anyone out there but they really have never looked good on anyone; only make tall people look that much taller, heavy people heavier and frumpy people, well… sad. Plus unless you live in the arctic is it really necessary to cover your entire body with down? Although by the sound and sight of it SassyFemme seems like she might be able to use something like that these days. I Just don’t get long, puffy coats, I just don’t. And one last thing that’s bewildering me today is, where is the mad hatter? I’m starting to get worried because she hasn’t posted in over a week. Her mom’s sick so I’m just hoping it doesn’t have to do with that. I wish her well.

While I was trying to figure out the purpose of the puffy coat in the store today, I turned and noticed the first sign of spring: Sam Adams White Ale. It comes out before the summer brew- woo hoo!! That definately put a smile on my face. I'm done with winter.

Bally Ballyhoo

The circus on Saturday was great; free drinks, beautiful women, easy volunteer duties, free drinks, beautiful women, laughs galore and a short valet parking line. There was only one problem during the night and it came in the form of a verbal comment from some random, forty-something lesbian. The fact that she was forty something may have had something to do with it but I'm not sure of that.

Part of our job was to meet and greet and chat with the crowd and in the process ask them if they would like to be involved in a "singles" type game for the evening. All that was required of the participants was for them to wear a little sticker with a number on it and check "the post office board" throughout the evening to see if anyone had left them a note, or they could leave someone else a few words of admiration if they felt the urge. It was an anonymous way to tell a stranger how you felt about their lovely hair style, or shirt, or whatever. Pretty simple but also totally geared towards the single chicks. Most of the couples laughed at our offer to play and responded with “oh we’ve been together for 7, 8, 9, 10 or whatever years, as if they were dead people that had no need for a compliment. We responded with “so, we’ve been together for 14 years and we’re playing! Who cares if you’re in a committed relationship or married or ninety years old, everyone deserves and wants a few kind, complimenting words tossed their way-don’t they? Then again we were only playing because we were representatives of the sponsors. We were able to break some of the ladies down while others walked away with a grin on their face just from the mere thought of it. Whatever, I understand because if I was a guest there's no way I'd want to walk around with a number taped to me let alone be bothered with having to check anything- except my girlfriend.

The annoying comment came from one of the women who had been with her other half for 10 years and apparently no longer has any sex. When asked if they were interested in playing, they responded as if we were asking them to go into the back room with us and "play" with way more than compliments directed towards their pretty shirts. She kind of just laughed an evil, odd cackle then, after we told her how long we had been together said "oh, so you don't have sex either" What! What kind of response is that, it wasn't funny and I didn't like it.

I'm 40, and have been with my partner for 14 years and yes maybe we don't have sex like we used to; I've grown out of the kitchen chair routine and prefer a setting where crumbs or cold hard services aren’t involved. Plus I will also admit that due to such crazy, busy schedules, sex is just not the first thing on our minds, it's the second. I’m not sure why the comment rubbed me the wrong way; maybe it was because I’m a little sensitive about the subject lately. I’m a little stressed, o.k.? Regardless, I’m tired of people assuming things just because of their own issues.

I may be forty, but I look and drink alcohol like I’m twenty five, sleep like I’m fifteen, have a body of a… thirty year old? I don’t know about that one- I’m thin, I eat tons and have muscle tone (no sagging anything). I don’t have any children, have never been pregnant, will not wear a dress to a wedding just because I have boobs and have never worn high heels. I love electronic gadgets, big screen t.v.'s, watching sports and “fixing things”. I'll take beer without a glass, I need to hold the remote control, I enjoy working with men, and would rather take the money and run instead of planning "a wedding". I felt sorry for that women and her partner. They obviously aren't happy and feel a need to share it. Well, no thanks.

We ended up having sex the next night. Not that it's important.

It's the eyes

Question of the day: Shane or the boi toy Moira?

A night at the circus

In about an hour we are stepping out... to the circus. it should be an enjoyable evening, different to say the least. My partner and I have volunteered our time, it's the least we can do. A beer or two would be nice though, we'll see. Gotta go get dressed...

Here's some cake, now watch them eat it and get sick

When we first met her our immediate assumtion was that she had little knowledge of what she was entering into; it was just dinner with a bunch of women from various groups around the city, but we were weren't sure she was aware that we were all gay. Some were from the Rainbow, others were from Kindred Hearts, and a handful were not yet attached to anything or anyone. It was a chance to hook up and meet some new people, which we did.

I had an emmty seat to the right of me, so she landed there; she looked interesting, attractive, 30 something-ish, and very put together so I was fine with her her choice of seat. Since my partner was to my left full engaged in a conversation, as she typically is,I ended up talking to this women and pretty much this women only, for the entire dinner. She was telling me she was new to the city, came from New York, wanted to meet new people and then threw in she was bisexual. O.k., she said she was "bisexual" like I would say "I'll have another beer" to the waiter as he walked on by; it was just kind of tossed in to whatever we were discussing but not related to anything- strange, but I guess she needed to get it out there on the table. That's cool, I have no problem with people wanting to label themselves bisexual, sexuality is fluid, so whatever. Minutes later she threw in that she was "married", but gave no clue as to whether she was glued to a women or a man;I didn't want to assume anything so I didn't flinch, but my curiosity was peaked. As we continued on with the conversation she tossed in a man's name when referring to her other half. She said it, she was married to a man and since she said she was bisexual- also attracted to women. Great, now we have something to play with.

At first I was imagining one of two things: either her marriage to this man was unfulfilling and she needed to spice it up or, she knew she was actually gay and it was finally time to get out and test the waters. I was wrong on both. When she continued to babble on and on about how wonderful "he" was, and how many women she's actually been with and how lucky she was to have "him" be so understanding, I wanted to spit up. Now I was angry, but remained cool... I calmely asked her, "so why are you married????"- valid question, right?. She threw her long flowing black hair back and let out a nervous,but confident laugh. Here we go, apparently she's miss sexuality- excuse me. She's allowed to get married to this dude,have mad sex with him, go out to lunch the next day and have mad sex with her female friend and all's good. No problem she says,she's had many relations with the ladies, will continue to do so, has her husbands "blessing" and can live with zero concern that he wants to be with another-woman or man. He has expressed that over and over. He wants her and her only; no two on one, no two on two, no three on one, no nothin. Dude, what's the deal?! Apparently they had many friends back in New York who were in the exact same situation: married and looking for the juice bar- what the... But these other couples also had no problem with another couple joining them in bed. No problem.

Whatever, the subject angers me only because the world turns upside town when the gay marriage thing comes up. I don't get it. I really don't care what other people do with their lives, I may not be able to understand it but I could care less-untill I'm told that I can't do something I wish to do. I'm not going to go on and on about the subject, I don't have it in me at this moment. This particular women was out that night because she was looking for a potential sex partner. She loves to have sex with women(duh), misses it, and wants to always have it in her life. O.k., fine. Later in the evening we attended the "Capricorn" party, mingled with hundreds of lesbians and she was on her cell phone four times during the night talking to the husband, but still managed to make out with some chick with a cowboy hat on in the bathroom. But that's all.

The other night we went out to dinner with her and the husband. He was a great guy: down to earth, funny, pleasant, intelligent and decent looking. The conversation flowed, the food was fantastic, the service was exceptional, didn't receive any strange vibes, made plans with her to go to some lesbian event, ate our fortune cookies, payed the bill and went home. So normal on the outside, yet so funky on the inside, it just makes me wonder. But I can't help feeling sad at the same time. She didn't seem the same at dinner with him, her husband. Once again, just makes me more thankful for what I do have- even if I can't have it all.

Don't pull my string

Today at work my friends and I got onto a conversation about our favorite childhood toys. These were some of the more popular ones: colorforms, play kitchens, a "thumbelina" doll, transformers, plastic record players with those colored records, an easy bake oven, silly sand and shrinky dinks. The youngest in the group was 28 and the oldest was 41. The conversation was lighthearted and extremely humourous; the 28 year old guy is still obsessed with the one transformer he owned and the sticker book of his dreams which never made it into his little hands. Discussing childhood is a regular occurance for me; I think about it all the time, I've carried childlike traits into my adult world and can talk about it like it was an hour ago. I loved it and would go back in a second if I could. If you pull the string that's coming from thumbelina's back she'll cry - my string broke from too much pulling.

So the conversation today was very enjoyable to say the least, partly because it was just so damn fun to do on a Wednesday in February at two o'clock in the afternoon, but mostly because in that one moment I could feel everyones childish joy - even if their childhood was not necessarily joyful. It's kind of funny that it only took three posts on this so called "lesbian" blog to revert back to childhood. For the same reasons I stayed in my basement for hours listening to my records, I don't feel like I want any part of this "blogging" world for fear of not liking stuff I see out there. I remember feeling like this back in July, but told myself to use it as a tool. First of all, breaking into this world feels like being a new kid at recess, everyone's laughing, playing, making friends and knowingly ignoring others. Some kids are happy, some are sad, some sound confused or unsure of themselves and others are just so much into their own little playgroup to even realize the bell rang and it's time to head back inside.

I keep seeing the same blog on everyone's link list and I'm trying to figure out why. She's like the most popular chick in school. Just like old times, everyone always wants to be connected to the popular kid I guess. I feel pressure to post for fear of loosing any life line I may have created. My question is where the hell do these random people find the time to write as many words as they do? Maybe they don't watch T.V.?, have a job?. Maybe they don't have a life outside their own bedroom or a life inside their head that needs to get out of the bedroom. Who knows, but all I do know is that I don't have the time and I just can't keep up with the pace. Plus blogging feels somewhat empty to me at times.

It's been wonderful to make a mini connection to the mad hatter over there in London, she seems like such a wonderful, kind, soul- but I really have no idea. Maybe I'm just someone who needs that human connection. I don't like not being able to touch. I've also really enjoyed reading about other lesbians out there in the world, it's nice to know so many like the L Word for the same reasons I do. Who cares about the writing sometimes. I started this blog to complain, explain, and converse about and with other lesbians about issues surrounding us as a group. Help me out, because I know you're out there and now I know you can talk. If I was five again I'd hide in my basement, if I was 10, I'd play with the lonely kid on the swings, if I was twenty five I'd be the cool one walking by myself, but I'm no longer a kid and I'm trying to grow up.

If I had my easy bake oven I'd bake a cake and give it to my brother to devour. If I had my little thumbelina doll I'd pull her string, then hold her real close- almost sqish her, but instead I'll write. Or "blog".

Sexy,cool, beautiful

Lately my partner and I have been very busy, her with her "life coaching" buisness and I with... well just life I guess. We haven't had too much quality time together and when that happens other things start to feel meaningless and a little off. Friday night we found ourselves a little window of time; no clients or social engagements to attend to,so we ordered some take out and sat on the couch facing each other. We talked and ate...and talked. We talk a lot. The thing that was so great about it on Friday was that in between the words and bites I was just noticing how beautiful she was. And I'm not just saying that because she's mine- she's sexy,cool, beautiful looking and I like looking at her. Looking, kissing, holding and laughing with her.

One reason I think it's been so challenging to hook up with the lesbian community is because we really don't need to. We're are so content while in each other's company nobody else compares. But as much as we enjoy each other, we'd like to gaze at other people too, every once in awhile. I guess we've just gotten to a point where we've had enough of straight people and pretty much just -each other. It's been a stuggle to literally peel ourselves off the couch and force ourselves to get out there. Luckily whenever we go out drinking is usually involved so I don't care who's around. The comfort factor we have with each other is a strong bond and it get us through tons of stuff; the fact that it's so strong I think helps us feel comfortable out there in lesbo land. As you all know, it can be quite intimidating at times.

Little moments like Friday night reinforce our relationship in a way nothing else can. Not even sex. Speaking of which, now that I think about it that's long overdue. Anyway, it's funny-funny ironic that in her coaching buisness she helps her clients get to that place of bliss, whether it be with their career, life, love or whatever. We find that moment of bliss all the time and I feel so fortunate.

Revelation

I must first apologize for my insensitivity before I move forward. I've been so consumed over this stupid blog that I didn't even mention to LAL how sorry I was to hear of her father's passing. A total stranger but none the less, feel badly for her. I commented on her "death" post but failed to offer any sympathy- rude. I'm sorry.

O.k., so I just started this "lesbian" themed blog because I'm so fed up with the "community" in Chicago. Hate the word lesbian by the way, so it's difficult to lable it as such, but right now I don't have a choice. Anyway, the Los Angeles chick and tg responded with some not so favorable comments about the LA scene. Too bad. It doesn't surprise me in the least that the women, gay or straight, living amongst the fake plastic trees tend to be a wee bit lifeless. I guess the lesbian scene in LA isn't really a good representation of most cities since authenticity in la la land seems to be lost in the fa la lameness. It was nice to hear from two Los Angeles ladies it's not all wine and roses in sunny CA. I'll take beer and pizza anyway.

If you can get yourself into the community, wherever it may be the struggle still remains. It's especially difficult for my partner and myself for a number of reasons: 1. we are a couple and have been together for a long time with no interest in bringing a third party into the mix. 2. we look "straight" to strangers- straight meaning attractive, sexy, well- dressed women. 3. we have a lot of straight friends and hang out with them-included in that, we like men. 4. shallow or not we prefer to hang out with other attractive, well dressed lesbian couples- good luck to us. 5. we belong to the Chicago Rainbow and while we have attended a number of events, we are not interested in going out with 15 other people to a knitting circle or " board game night". 6. We are thin. There are many more, but my point being the one reason we are somewhat obsessed with the L Word is because this is the closest representation of our lives- details aside.

So anyway for nine years since moving to Chicago we have been trying to break into the lesbian community and it's just recently that we actually have. Granted, our own issues may have gotten in the way, but my point is is that we haven't felt "welcomed" because of our looks. So cheers to The L Word if only for the one reason that they have represented the other side of lesbians. It's about time, now maybe we can all mingle. I started this blog because I didn't want to talk about it on my other one. Things may get a little harsh.

What not to wear

I had a day off today, Tuesday. Strange because I typically work the 8-5 Monday through Friday gig with Saturday and Sunday being my days to play. Having to do with details I will not bore you with, I need to head into work for a couple of hours on Sunday; hence the day off today. Anyway, my plan was to head out running, but it's really windy today and I'm not in the mood to fight it so I landed on the couch with the laptop. Since I just started this blog on "being a lesbian in Chicago" I thought I would try to look up some similar blogs and I came across this one that seemed somewhat normal, although I've only read the lastest post.

In in she mentions that the "L Word" is fantasy. I get that, but I don't understand it. Ever since this damn show came on the air, I've been driving myself crazy with the notion that the look of the show is not so far fetched. I know it's not reality t.v, most of the actresses are straight and the story line is traditionally lame, but the beauty of the show is intense! First of all, the fact that these women are hot, sexy and feminime and also lesbians is so refreshing. I'm so tired of being in the community in a sea filled with bad hair, no style and out-dated clothing. Is it because I live in the fucking Mid-West that the lesbians look so traditionally-lesbian? When I lived in Boston I was too young to realize there was anything actually called a gay community, but I know the other city on the East coast has it going on. Those New York lesbos know how to dress. I know that the feminine, sexy, hot lesbians are around because I have met some, but they are so few and far between that something feels a little off balance.

So my question to the lesbian in Los Angeles is what's the scene like out there? It's got to be better than Chicago, for starters I know there are more places in LA for us to hang out. Chicago has but one lousy lesbian bar. I can't stand it.

Capricorn = Booze, Boobs and Babes

So last week I went to the ever so popular "capricorn" party in Chicago. Apparently this tradition has been going on for the past 21 years, but unfortunately we just found out about it this year- story of my life. It also totally sucks that it was the finale. The women who throw this bash are selling their house and one of them is moving to Florida to finally live with her partner. It seems to me that one of the "younger, more hip lesbos needs to pick up the torch, re-light it and run like a mad woman because it would totally be a shame if this thing died.

There were hundreds of women in that house that night- all shapes, sizes and colors, and thankfully each one was a lesbian. Even though some may wish to label themselves bi-sexual, they were all women attracted to other women. And that's all that mattered. It was so refreshing to be surrounded by hundreds of lesbians, it may sound a bit scary (even to myself) but it was amazingly anything but. The crowd was oddly controlled, even as the girls raced through the house topless or preformed lap dances in the corner. Politeness was everywhere, bathroom lines were short and the sexuality... well, sexy.

My point is it's very sad and maddening that there was so many gay women there last week and there's only one lesbian bar in Chicago for them to go to. I've been "out"in Chicago for eight years now and I constantly find myself wondering where everyone is, and I'm tired of it. By everyone I mean all the "good looking" lesbians. There was every type of lesbian at that party, from the young punk to the girly girl and every look in between. But one thing for sure was there were many attractive-hot, just plain good- looking women there. Women that no more look "gay" than Portia de Rossi does.

StarGaze is the name of the lesbian bar in Andersonville. It's a very unattractive, un-inviting bar that attracts a certain type of lesbian. That's fine, I don't have to go there, but can I go somewhere else? Well, I can go over to The Closet on Broadway and sit with a bunch of men and straight people in a ...closet; the place is as big as my bathroom. Or I can go to a number of dance clubs in the city and also be surrounded by gay men and straight people posing as such.

So every year we wait for the premiere party of the L Word at T's Bar and bask in the beauty. The beautiful people all seem to come out for that. It makes sense, since the L Word has the best looking lesbians anywhere on television. If only it were real. My question is, why can't it be?

Wherever You Go, There You Are

I've spent most of the last couple of weekends attempting to compose a mixed cd for some "old" friends. They're considered old not because of their age but for the simple fact that they are no longer a part of my life; my physical life that is. There was one time in the past that these particular people were pretty much a huge existence in my young adult years, mostly during the summer months. These days, one of them is still single and living the high life; the other one is very much married with two (or three) kids, I don't even know. They both reside in the Boston area and I in Chicago. When we hung out there were really only three rules: one was to always have beer while on the beach, two was to always be aware of each other’s whereabouts while on the town or in the bar and three was to always have the mixed tapes available. I visited with one of them this past summer. The other I seemed to have lost contact with while she was living in London having babies. Neither one has ever left my thoughts for extended periods of time and they both waft into my consciousness every now and then, usually because of a certain song, emotion or conversation.I thought it might be a nice surprise if I sent them both a mixed cd for Christmas as I feel very confident that my gesture will be greatly appreciated. There’s nothing worse than making a mixed cd for someone who could care less. My dilemma is composing this thing; it’s not as easy as I anticipated. It’s very difficult to pick and choose songs that span 15 or so years and when there's been so much "life" in between for all of us. Do I concentrate on the music of the past that is reminiscent of our times together? Do I pick songs that I've heard over the years that make me think of them for one reason or another. Or, do I decide to break all the rules of making a mixed tape (cd) by forgetting about the lyrics and choosing only songs that I prefer to listen to now with no underlining meaning what so ever. No because that would be pointless. Can you even make a mixed cd for friends without explaining why you choose those particular tunes? The recipient will always wonder why. So far I’ve done a little bit of all of the above. "Back in the day" I was the one who made most of the mixed tapes. There was no need for anyone to think about it. Now there feels like a lot of pressure to create a good mixed cd because I've never really created a bad mixed tape. Here’s a list of the songs I chose and some of the reasons why:California Stars, Billy Bragg. This is such a cool tone with a classic laid back feel to it. And who wouldn’t want to kick back under the California stars. One of my friends used to live there, I’ve only visited but I have a feeling we could both end up there for two simple but powerful reasons: Sun and warmth.Mystify, INXS. INXS used to be a band we always seemed to have in or near the “boom box” and car tape deck. “Mystify” has always been one of my favorites.Dreams, The Bodeans. The first time I became addicted to the Bodeans, my friends and I were spending one of our annual long weekends on Nantucket Island. I can’t remember why or how, but I accidentally stepped on a foreign object and in the process tore up my foot. The pain was so excruciating (dulled by the alcohol the night before) that it woke me up extremely early the next morning. While I managed to get myself over to a chair and hoist my leg up on the dresser, I became attached to that position and ended up stuck there for hours until everyone else woke up. The only thing within my reach was the boom box and in the tape deck was the Bodeans, Outside Looking In. I must have played that tape over and over for hours; therefore becoming addicted and forever associating it with that weekend and those days. “Outside Looking In” was as essential to our travels across Cape Cod and the Islands as gas was to our cars.Forever Young, Alphaville. It’s a tune about staying young and if I had my way I would still be living it up in kindergarten… or lounging on the beach in my twenties without a care in the world.Get Through, Mark Joseph. Because living in the summer is easy and living in the winter is fucking hard.Magic in the Air, Badly Drawn Boy. There always felt like so many things were unspoken about when we were all together. I’ve always loved this tune from Badly Drawn Boy. I bought his first album at the HMV store in Harvard Square, Cambridge MA. That one and Nora Jones- way before the rest of the world caught on to the buzz.Everyday is like Sunday, Morrissey. Morrissey was the man back then. In one way or another his lyrics and maudlin sound hit home for us all. I never made a mixed tape without him.Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton. Beth Orton is an artist that I’ve listened to since she came on the scene. She wasn’t around back in the day and I wonder if I would have enjoyed her as much if she was. Whatever, her music is great, I love her voice and I’m glad I have it now. A sweetest decline is the best way to go.Curly Locks, Sinead O’Connor. From Sinead’s latest album and this particular tune feels like how I used to a lot back then: slow and reckless.The Grass is Green, Nelly Furtado. Great tune, cool voice, and everyone feels it… at least I do.Drivin you, Shelly Cambell. Driving was a huge part of our time together. We drove all over Cape Cod, Rhode Island, Australia, Belmont, the Greek Islands, Sterling, and Boston. Some of the most memorable times involving a car included: a bridge, police questioning, bare feet, a rescue bus filled with a men’s soccer team, wine, Dunkin Doughnuts cups, road maps, tapes and music.Enlightenment, Van Morrison. My friend used to say she wanted Van to perform at her wedding. Nice thought and whenever I hear this song I think of her.Thinking out loud, Ron Sexsmith. Thinking out loud can sometimes get you in trouble and the act of writing it out is easier than saying it.Takin’ It Easy, Brad. We always took it easy, and I took it easy most of my life. Loved this tune from the second I heard it.High, James Blunt. I first saw this guy on Saturday Night Live and it was the same day I started to make this cd. He’s amazingly unique and inspiring- I felt like I received a gift when I saw him perform that evening. His album is simply one of the best this year.Overkill, Colin Hay. We all traveled to Australia together. There were a lot of situations and experiences and implications. This acoustic version seemed like a perfect fit.Bow Down, Housemartins. I can’t make anything musical for these friends without putting these guys on it. They made our Greece excursion so much more “colorful”.3 Little Birds, Bob Marley. Don’t worry about a thing because every little thing is going to be alright. And it is.Don’t Dream it’s Over, Crowded House. When the drummer from Crowded House committed suicide a couple of years ago all I wanted to do was call my friends and discuss. I didn’t have their numbers. Crowded House was one of the coolest bands ever.I hope this CD finds my friends at a good place in their lives. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year…

Winter's Hook

Just an opinion I wanted to share with whoever cares to let it in. Tonight I stood in front of the beer cooler at Whole Foods for close to ten minutes trying to decide which one to take home. It was kind of funny because my intention was to go over there and just grab some Rolling Rock but was quickly distracted by all the various winter brews that were on the shelf. I’m a big fan of the seasonal beers, favoring the summer ones but have only occasionally enjoyed the winter and spring ones.I was in Whole Foods picking up a bottle of Nino Franco "Rustico" for my parents Christmas gift basket when I went over for the Rolling Rock. The problem was, I only saw one six pack sitting alone on the side, on top of the baby kegs -and not even in the cooler. O.K. so I obviously didn’t want that one, but pondered the thought for five minutes too long. Why weren’t there any on the shelves? I glanced around the area for a stock associate to help me, but there were strangely none to be found. It seemed to me that the Rolling Rock simply lost its shelf space due to the abundance of winter brews and holiday ales. Not right but whatever. The cooler was packed. Maybe a winter beer is what I’m meant to have tonight; after all it was pretty cold out, a bit blustery and it is holiday time, so why not. But just like my coffee or wine, I don’t like beer with cinnamon or any kind of spice in it and that’s typically what makes the winter brews…well, winter like. No thanks. So I had a rough time deciding which one to buy. While I was looking for something new, with an interesting label and reasonable price tag,I noticed the Red Hook ales. Their summer brew, Sunrye is always in my refrigerator during the summer months so I wondered about the Winterhook brew. I didn’t grab it right away because I was a little weary that it may have nutmeg or something in it and didn’t want to be disappointed. I continued to check out my other options, but nothing grabbed me- they were all either too expensive or obnoxious looking. So I finally decided on the Red Hook Winterhook ale and within an hour later couldn’t believe I just discovered it now. This stuff was fantastic-just right. As far as my taste buds could tell there were no overbearing spices and it was extremely drinkable. It’s nice to have something with a little substance to it when it’s freezing outside- warms the belly.After checking out the web site I’ve learned that the Winterhhook ale is the seasonal companion to Sunrye. And they recommend drinking it with holiday dinners, especially "turkey and trimmings". Perfect, but believe me, pretzels work just as well.

Thanks, Neil Young

Since this is Thanksgiving week I thought it might be important that I mention some things I’m thankful for. The first thing that comes to mind is how thankful I am that I appreciate quality music. I’m listening to Neil Young’s latest creation, Prairie Wind. It’s exceptional stuff. Last year Neil Young turned sixty years old, suffered a brain aneurism, and lost his father. That’s a lot to deal with. Quality music aside for a second, thankfully I don’t know what it’s like to experience any one of those three things: turning forty was tortuous enough for me, my dad is very much alive and well and I’m most thankful for only the diagnosis of a brain cyst- that’s all, and even that’s gone now. Yah, I’m thankful.I wasn't very thankful earlier today when we decided to get rid of our cable; Christmas is here, apparently money doesn't grow on trees, and no one else is going to bail us out so away it goes. Since baseball season is over I don’t need ESPN until March, MTV and VH1 suck and the only reason we have Showtime is for "The L Word" and that’s not even on again for another three months, we thought we should "scale back". I know it’s silly to pay for something you never use, but I had a difficult time accepting our decision. I love having cable- it’s always there when you want it and it’s nice to look at and play around with. In other words it’s basically a distraction that I’m paying for. A distraction I don’t need and extra money I do, so it only makes sense to let it go, but I'm feeling a little sorry for myself, I want it all. Back to the music, this Neil Young disc has a creepy way of seeping into your subconscious. I’m not even a huge fan, but something told me to buy this album and I’m so thankful I did. I loved it when I first heard it, didn’t really understand the reasoning behind it but felt compelled to listen again and again. Like the dam sheet blowing in the wind on the cover, the music and his voice feel freeing and as natural as... well, as natural as obviously it is for Neil to record music. Who needs cable with this stuff on in the background? Here I am feeling shorted that I won’t be able to turn on the food network or the weather channel any time I want when there are some people who don’t even have the luxury of a dam television set. It’s all relative I guess. It's funny, but for some reason my friend at work has been obsessed with his youth lately and with his belief of how deprived he thought he was. He keeps talking about how his mother wouldn’t buy him the measly 25 cent stickers for his Transformer sticker book but would never hold back from the cigarettes and wine for herself. Poor kid, he has trauma around never completing his sticker book. I had tons of completed Barbie books so I can't really relate to that but what gets me is the fact that his mom continually ignored him in his plea for stickers. Whatever.Anyway, in four days its Thanksgiving and I have a lot to be thankful for. Today the big one was an appreciation of all things authentic, whether that may be heartfelt music by a sixty year old guy or knowledge of needing to let go of meaningless things. Tomorrow I may not be feeling so wise, but for now I’m just thankful I get to go to sleep and I know I won’t be dreaming about Barbie, maybe just sheets blowing in the wind.

Going Home

Ten things I thought about on the way home from work…

1.I hate when people don’t use their blinkers
2.I hate when people don’t pull up to the farthest gas pump when it’s available while someone is pulling up right behind them.
3.I hate it when there are people in the (express) self check out aisle with their cart overflowing.
4.I hate it when people speak extremely loud to their friend or group of friends while in public.
5.Groups of teenagers.
6..What’s for dinner?
7..I don’t really need my sunglasses, but they are all I have to see with.
8..I hate when I need to wash my hands in a public restroom and there’s another women taking up the entire counter fixing her face.
9..I hate when I can hear the music coming from the car next to me.
10.I hate it when adults treat little kids like adults; as if they should understand.All that in fifteen minutes…

This be Thisbe

As she sits here right in front of me staring at the cursor on the monitor, I still can't believe that I actually have a kitten in my life. The thought of one day owning a cat was like owning a gerbil, I had no interest or knowledge of such little creatures and had proudly always considered myself a "dog person". I got my dog for Christmas when I was in the second grade and he stayed with us until I was well into my sophomore year of college- then my mom called me and said he had to be put to sleep. That was a depressing day. Years later I got another dog, but my point is that I've always believed that a dog- not a cat, would be forever in my life. I thought dogs were cooler and way more "real" than cats. Cats were boring, no fun, too finicky, un-trainable, aloof, and just plain useless. I used to believe people that owned cats fit into one of three categories: dog haters, old people or single folks that need company- and cats would be easy companions. I couldn't ever fathom the use of a litter box or itsy- bitsy food bowls; I used to believe, cats won't greet me at the door, or play ball or listen when I speak to them. They sleep all day, under a bed or in a closet and only come out to eat. Cats were pointless. Wow, was I ever wrong and sheepishly take back every word.

My cat Thisbe is so beautiful and intriguing she blows my mind. With her little ear tufts sticking out, her long whiskers, her perfect little features, soft sweet purrs, "new snow" white paws and long fluffy tail - she's perfect. She's a foot and a half long and foot high... she has a head that fits in the palm of my hand so perfectly and a belly so clean,white and pure it's like ivory soap. Thisbe is actually and thankfully, the coolest cat I have ever met or ever imagined a cat to be. When she wants to play there's no denying her and she relentless in her pursuit. And most of he time I'm loving every minute of that. She fills our home and fills up my heart...and time.The decision to bring a little kitty into our home was a very challenging one and a decision I was not ready to make. But as time passed and there became a void in my life - no animals, I started to open my mind and without warning, my heart followed. When our dog Blitzen passed about 4 years ago, we found ourselves in a position where due to location and time constraint, a puppy would not be an option; but the desire of owning a pet was overwhelming and all consuming. I became desperate to have a dog in my life again but the pain became so torturous it felt almost strangely wrong. When I finally came to the conclusion, with much convincing that maybe it wasn't just a dog I was so desperate for, but more simply a pet I could take care of and love, within that grew my openness to bring a kitty into my life.

The day we visited her in her foster home she wanted nothing to do with us. She had three little brothers and two sisters- none of which looked like her at all. They were only seven weeks old, and the tiniest, cutest little critters I had ever seen that close up. We had looked at potential other kittens as well before this but none of the experiences felt anywhere near as meaningful as this one. The kittens were so full of energy it was difficult to corral any of them, especially the one I wanted to grab the most. But we managed to scoop them up one by one as they playfully scurried by. All but Thisbe, who was at the time being called "Marble" because of her coloring. There was also a dog in this foster home and Thisbe seemed to be more interested in him instead of any human strangers that were in her house. I kept my eye on her because she was just so cute but for some unexplained reason I was definitely drawn to her energy more so than the others. When we had made the decision to adopt a kitty, I was very concerned that we wouldn't get "a good one", or that it would grow up and not be cute any more-just cat like. I was worried because with a cat you just never know- again, they're not dogs. Everyone told us not to worry because the kitty will choose you. So we waited and played and laughed.... and eventually cried. When I couldn't accept Thisbe's avoidance any longer I decided to get up and search for her; I found her obsessed with the door of the room where the dog had been put and she virtually ignored my presence. As I grabbed her, she let out the sweetest softest meow I had ever heard, so I reluctantly put her down. I continued to play with and tried to imagine owning any one of the other kitties, but I was still stuck on the one that was being called Marble, so I attempted to grab her again- this time she was eating. I scoped her up and brought her over to the couch and showed her little sweet face to my partner. I remember saying, "I like this one". My partner kind of had her mind set on Thisbe's little sister, who was a jet black, domicile little fuzz ball. She was sweet, but Thisbe was cuter and seemed a little tougher, which is exactly what I was after.

When we went out to the car to discuss first and foremost if we really wanted to do this and then which one we wanted, our emotions came streaming out. We were crying like little six year olds. In the house were five little, furry balls of life and one of them was going to be ours; the actual thought of it was overwhelming. They were so little and new to the world and their mom had abandoned them- physically and emotionally. I knew as difficult as it was to accept the fact that I was adopting a cat instead of a dog, there was no doubt in my mind that we were doing the right thing. We decided it was going to be Thisbe that would make the trip home with us because we trusted that she was the "right" one for us. So we went back in the house armed with our kitty carrier and inner strengths to whisk her away from all that chaos. Within seconds of entering, Thisbe was in her carrier and out the door- no belongings and no looking back. When we told the foster mom which one we had chosen she said "oh, she's a lover!" Unfortunately we had a forty-five minute drive home and Thisbe cried the entire way. She was killing us. All we could think about was the fact that we just snatched her away from all that she knew and from all the family she had. It felt like she was miserable and scared; we were the scared ones who didn't know what the hell to do. Eventually after we got her home and situated in her new surroundings she bonded with us in such a strong way our hesitation around taking her was quickly suppressed.

Two years later, she's still the cutest, coolest, toughest, most playful "dog like" cat I had imagined and hoped she would be. Having a cat in the house has totally taken away my desperate need to have a dog, and has only enhanced my admiration for them. I've actually always thought it was so cool to have both. Thisbe plays hard and often, understands the word "no", listens to me when I talk to her, misses us when we're gone, greets us when we come home, knows the sound of our cars and runs to the window to take a look; she has broken all the stereotypes of cats, dissolved all of my beliefs, plays fetch and hide and seek, she knows her name and answers to a whistle...just like a dog. Thankfully because of Thisbe I now have an appreciation for cats that I never knew existed. They are the best little animals and so misunderstood it's ridiculous. As much as we still want a dog in our lives, we now have someone else to consider when that situation arises and I have a feeling she's not going to like it so much. Oh well, like always, we'll discus it and deal. That's going to be a fantastic week.

Boston Blues

Today I went running and ended up at the beach- this is nothing unusual but it didn't feel like the warm, inviting beach that's been alive for the last five months. Today it was just plain depressing: cold, windy, grey and deserted. As I walked back away from the water, the scene was a photo op for about 100 different captions. I probably looked a bit forlorn and I was wearing my Boston Red Sox knit hat- I was alone, in Chicago the day after the White Sox knocked them out of the play offs. That should say it all.The Red Sox loss hurt pretty bad. I know, I know, we won it all last year so why can't we willingly give someone else a chance, right? well because that's silly. The World Series win in 2004 was unbelievable and probably made this years loss a little easier to deal with, but now that the series is actually over it completely sucks and I wish we could go back and try again. Every year it's difficult to let the Red Sox go, finish their season and not have them in my life for six months. I love baseball season- It signifies spring, summer, little league, big dreams, lazy days, three hour time spans, popcorn, hot July nights and cool October playoff games. When a Red Sox game is televised it's an excuse to skip out of work early or stay in for the evening. During the baseball season the boys from Beantown have a tendency to rule my world and I love it. People around here don't care about the Red Sox, just as I don't care about the Cubs or White Sox, but this year was different. The Red Sox became the team to beat, White Sox were the team to win and the Cubs... well who cares about the Cubs. I was at a luncheon with Mia Hamm a couple of weeks ago and she brought up Nomar's name quite a bit. She said they'd love to stay in Chicago, but they also used to talk about how they'd love to stay in Boston- with those two you never know what to believe. Unfortunately, the post season didn't turn out for either Nomar or mysef had hoped but it was still wonderful to be able to see the Bo Sox on the evening news and read about them in the morning paper-even if it was only for a measly three or four days. I grew up in Boston and spent most of my life there and it's only been within the last eight years that I've lived in Chicago- forced to follow the Cubs and their demise. It's been very challenging to be Red Sox fan while living here: no one gets it, and nobody cares. I'm tired of asking the bar tender if he could please put the Red Sox game on one of the t.v.'s- I usually get the small one in the corner and a lot of attitude to go along with it, whatever. Watching last years win from this far away was brutal, I longed to be in Beantown witnessing all of it up close. Just to feel the energy must have been amazing. It's not like I would have gone to the parade or anything(well maybe), but simply going to the grocery store would have been exciting enough- that city owns the Red Sox, you feel it everywhere you go. I miss it a lot.This year, all season long that customary desperate feeling of needing to win just wasn't there and what a relief that was. I didn't feel a compelling force to watch every single game that was on ESPN or follow it on my computer, It was just fun when I did. I love the Red Sox and everything they represent and this year it was so easy to be a fan- even when the White Sox had the best record in baseball all season long-it didn't seem to matter, the angst was gone. It's strange but this years defeat hurts differently than in years past. Suprisingly I actually would have rather they lost to the Yankee's instead- at least that would have had a familiar feel to it. The loss to the White Sox felt flat, almost emotionless which is how the whole series felt. We're not used to losing to these guys in the post season. I think everyone in Red Sox Nation was almost, in a way, assuming we would glide right past the White Sox, all while focusing their energy on the Yankee's and that potential heated match up. After all, that's what baseball is all about. This is an end of an era for the Red Sox and their fans, next year could be very, very different. Different guys, different energy. The team we've learned to cry with and laugh with and fight with is no more and I think we all knew that at the end of last year, but we were too busy enjoying the monumental victory to even think about it. With the loss this year I think some of that is finally settling in- and it feels sad. The second after the White Sox won on Friday night, I immediately said "well, I can't root for them and I hope the Yankee's win and blow them away". I couldn't believe what I was saying, but what I was thinking was that at least the Yankee's feel like home; they're in a bizarre way the closest entity to the Red Sox. And the Red Sox bring me to that place of bliss. Like I said, it's been very hard to live here in Chicago and be a Red Sox fan, now for some reason it feels like it's going to be even harder. I'm proud to be from Boston and can now turn my attention to the Patriots- or White Sox... obviously I haven't quite decided.I'm loving the fact that it's now cold enough to wear my Red Sox hat- it's all I got until I go home again.

Third floor sex

It starts when I notice his obnoxious, bright green nova parked outside my window. As soon as I see that thing I know what's in store for him, his girlfriend, her roommate, my partner and I, our kitten and the rest of the occupants in our building: the sounds of sex. This guy has a lot of sex and he's extremely vocal when it comes to expressing his pleasure around it. It's actually pretty funny to think about, but when I'm woken up at two in the morning because of the building shaking and the cat flying off the bed from fear it's not so funny anymore.First the thumping noises begin, which I guess is the bed hitting the wall, then the moans start up.. and continue... then the sighs... then a pause and sometimes more thumping. It's sooooo loud. Luckily it never goes on for too long, he's quick. I can't imagine the floor plan for that bedroom up there because you'd swear the guy was literally hanging out the window while the sex was happening. The bed must be huge and positioned just perfect for the release to flow out the window. Bizarre, but we never hear the girlfriend in all of this, I sure hope she's as happy as he is and just doesn't wish to share it with the neighborhood. But it would be nice to hear her every once in awhile- just to change things up a little. I only live on the first floor so what the hell is the women above me on the second floor doing when this is going on?! Maybe when she sees the car pull up she gets the ear plugs out-who knows. Anyway this guy is not only a sex machine, but he's also, believe it or not a rock star. At least that's what I've decided he is because of his hair style- or lack of, and care free attitude . I'm not sure if he plays in a band regularly or just works in the industry but whenever I see him he is never without his guitar. Along with having sex on the window sill, he jams up there as well; his voice isn't half bad and he handles the guitar like a pro. At least he's not good looking or this would be really strange.I hardly ever see the sex machine up close and personal very often, I either see him walking out to his car or I pass him on the stairs. But the other day he held the door for me while I was juggling a six pack of beer and various other items as I attempted to go for my keys. On the way in I thanked him, then turned around and said how much we enjoyed his music. (Thinking about his groans the whole time) He seemed confused, like rock stars do, as if we had no idea he even played but responded with a soft, genuine "thanks". I mentioned how we especially enjoyed his version of "Overkill" by Men at Work - it was excellent. They had just played it on "Scrubs" a week before, so when we heard it live coming from our building it was pretty cool. He asked me if I played, I said "nah, just listen". He's a very nice guy, but I can't see him without imagining him in a sexual position.It feels awkward to know the most intimate detail of someone but not even know their name. Hearing this guy have an orgasm is pretty personal stuff and seems strange that I know what it sounds like. I mean that's stuff you think about when you're interested in someone, or just curious.., but not when it's the guy on the third floor who walks outside in his pajamas and bare feet to move his car for street cleaning. He doesn't even live in the building. I suppose it's nice to know that my third floor neighbor has a good sex life- but that should really be none of my business. Luckily it's never happened where my girlfriend and I happen to be engaged in a similar act at the same time as the they are. That would just feel downright warped.