Beachcomber

I'm waiting for a phone call from a friend of mine; a friend who I haven't seen in over .... I don't even know, maybe 12-14 years? That's a long time.

We haven't spoken within that time, but even so, she hasn't left my mind at all. Whenever I think of summertime, drinking on the beach, red wine, U2, R.E.M., The Smiths, Nantucket, The Kennedy family, Belmont, Massachusetts or sunblock I think of Cherie- and I think about those things often. I actually made her a mixed CD last Christmas as a surprise because "mixed tapes" were a huge accessory with us when we were together. Together meaning friends-nothing more so don't go there. Cherie married Bobby and they have since had three kids and have lived in Australia and London before settling in Concord, Massachusetts in her grandmothers huge, cool old farm house. I made her the mixed CD because I had hooked up with another friend of ours last Summer and she had mentioned Cherie said I would probably bring along a mixed tape and how lucky she would be to get it. Strangely enough I had a mixed CD in my car that I had just made for our trip that I handed off to my friend at the bar- it was perfect music for her ride off of Cape Cod and back into Boston.

I can't honestly say why we haven't spoken in so long. Drunken birthday greetings have been left on my machine, but I kind of lost track of her when she moved to Australia. I've never been good at long distance anything-it's too difficult. We always had a connection;we not only had the same sense of humor (which is so very important) but more importantly we connected on an energy level. She got it, I got it and sometimes that's when it's so easy to loosen the grip and become seperated. It's like even though these people aren't necessaily in your physical space they are with you energenically through everything. I've definately missed her over the years because I think we'd get along great and that's so rare. She loves to drink, loves the same music I do and knows when to go to that next level. You know or maybe you don't- it's the reading in between the lines I'm talking about, it's where the good stuff is.

Anyway, she left me a message yesterday saying that it was 3 o'clock in the afternoon, she had just picked up a 12 pack of a particular summer brew, she had just listened to my mixed CD, her kids were having a play date, Memorial Day is in a couple of days, she missed me, wanted to get together this summer and she was thinking about me in more ways than one- excellent. I called her back but no answer; again tonight, and here I wait...

Cherie and I were summer friends, we met on Cape Cod. One of the places we frequented often was a place called The Beachcomber in Welfleet, MA. In my opinion this is the best "beach bar" on the East coast. This place is truly spectacular simply because it has everything a good beach bar should have. For starters it's tricky to find unless you know your way around (meaning no tourists), it is literally located on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic ocean with sand everywhere. the beer is cheap, the food is fried, picnic tables are plenty, music is cool, bands are cool, dance floor big enough, and it's located on Cape Cod Massachusetts. You just can't get any better.

I'm pretty sure I'll hook up with her this summer, I'm not sure how or where but I do know drinking will be involved, along with a new mixed CD. It puts me in a good mood to think about hanging out with her, but I wonder why people that feel so normal to be around aren't always in our lives at all times? We meet so few, at least I do.

Well, cheers to the official start of summer this weekend, good friends, good music, cool places to hang out, summer brews, sand... and getting it.

Where did it go?

I hope I get it back soon. Cus this sucks...

Little black dress...

Little black dress or athletic pants. That subject came up today when my friend was trying to describe a hot women he just saw. At first he said: "she was blond... and (moan sound) just hot (smokin hot)". Then he paused and said: "you know what really gets to me? (I'm thinking, yah, I know...) it's when women are wearing althletic wear. I like it when they wear those tight pants... forget about it!" What!!

Now this guy is a 28 year old good-looking Italian kid who loves women, all women. What's interesting about the comment he made was the fact that he would actually prefer most women without any clothes on at all. When he thinks someone is attractive his mind goes immediately to imagining having sex with her, like physically being inside her... gross, I'm sorry. Anyway, the fact that he said he would prefer a women to be causual and wearing sweat pants was amazing and very, very humorous. I was telling him that I've heard this to be true for a lot of men but I've never actually heard anyone say it to me. I could imagine athletes, or maybe real casual, no nonsense guys liking women in athletic wear but not typical guy guys but whatever.

So we took the rest of the afternoon discussing the comment, the women in the building, exactly what kind of athletic pants he's thinking about and what I would prefer. I said the little black dress -of course. I couldn't really believe he would rather someone wear tight athletic pants instead of a sexy little tight black dress, but again- whatever.

He even went so far as to say he likes when he can see the line from the underwear under those pants... no thongs though(thank god), he likes the bikinis. I didn't need to hear that but we were on a roll. Well, you won't catch me in any of that stuff; I got the nylon adidas pants which I only wear for running, I don't own a little black dress-or any dress for that matter, and it's boy briefs I prefer. But I'll take a woman in jeans and a tank top anyday.

So what's up with that? Little black dress or athletic pants? You choose.

Thinking out loud

I was just flipping through Giata's cook book to figure out what to make for dinner and I got stuck once again just looking at the photos. Giata De Laurentiis is absolutely gorgeous! I missed her show on the Food Network today because I had to get my hair cut- which was long overdue. Anyway she's so sexy on that damn show I end up mesmerized every saturday morning. I hate to say it for the fear of sounding shallow- but again, I love looking at beautiful people and she's one of them! Giata may have a big head but shit- she's hot! she knows how to cook and dresses well too...

I gotta go to the grocery store now.

Just one of many

This is just one situation that happened to a friend of mine on Sunday, and it's one that I really can't stand being in.

The event: A Bridal Shower
The time: Two o'clock in the afternoon
The place: Some strange building (not someone's house)
The weather: 75 and sunny
The alcohol: None
The music: None
The food:Too insignificant to mention
The crowd: All crazy women (family and strangers)
The entertainment: "Games" and gift opening

I felt her pain when she was telling me about it on Friday afternoon and then I felt excruciating pain again this morning when I asked her how it went. She said it sucked. We both agreed on Friday that the one good thing about these idiodic showers is the consumption of alcohol-the only thing, and she didn't even have that. I think after the second game I would have been crying because of the amount of pain I would have been in; I hate it soooooo much- it's kind of crazy.

O.k., I hate going to any type of shower:baby, bridal, engagement, wedding, whatever, they all fucking suck. The stupid games are just plain stupid and a waste of everyone's time. The fact that they take place on the weekends in the middle of the day is totally inconvenient. The gift opening in front of everyone should be abolished. They usually take place in the spring time on beautiful sunny days when the last place you want to be is indoors. I always wonder why I need to be there, and it should be against the law if you host a party of any kind and don't serve any alcohol.

I hate being in situations where I can't escape and a bridal shower is an excellent example of that -they suck. I'm glad it wasn't me on Sunday.

Lets talk about sex

We have to go out with the straight friends tonight. It's not so bad just sometimes it gets a little boring and predictable; not that going out with the gay friends isn't boring at times too, it's just not as annoying in the same way.

Anyway one of the friends we are going out with is totally obsessed with s.e.x. I have a friend at work who is totally obsessed with sex also and I was thinking about why so many people can't seem to get it off the brain. Now don't get me wrong, I'm a very sexual person- love doing it, talking about it and thinking about it but I'm not obsessed with it and don't need to discuss it day and night. I used to think people who talk about it all the time either don't get enough of it, don't get the right kind of it or have a problem with it, but I'm not sure anymore. My friend at work lately is referring everything to sex and it's so annoying I almost can't even strike up a conversation with her anymore. No matter what I say, whether I'm talking about an item, an idea, a t.v show or a situation, she always makes a stupid sexual joke. I HATE stupid sexual jokes that aren't funny; actually I hate sexual jokes when the act of sex isn't present. When people talk about sex and relate it with food, tools, cardboard boxes, flowers or any other random item, I find it very annoying and a total turn off. This woman at work seems to find it sexy when I mention anything long, heavy or big... what are we eight! I know where her mind is at but the little giggles are fucking annoying!

It's different when someone I find sexy talks the sexy talk or about the act of sex, but when someone I'm not attracted to talks about the act in a strange way it gets a lttle creepy. And when someone gets turned on when I mention the word "heavy" it's just plain stupid. I work very closely with some young men and we talk about sex all the time; It's pretty funny because strangely enough I can keep up with them with the graphic stuff. We can all discuss the ladies- they feel comfortable, and I feel comfortable. They're cool guys so they do it in a decent way which helps. The thing is is that when we talk about sex, there's a beginning and an end-then it's done. There's no innuendos or beating around the bush; there's no talk about kinky sex, abnormal sex or freaky sex- unless it's just that. We just talk about plain good old fashion sex.

One of the woman we are going out with tonight is another one that talks about sex 24 hours a day. It's not sexy when she talks about sex because she does it in a disqusting graphic way. It's just too much. In her case I do believe even though she gets plenty of hetero sex it's the sex with the ladies she's missing. She's been with many woman before and I actually think she's gay, but whatever. Now she's with a gay guy-go figure. She has sex pretty much every night, with this guy who she thinks and I know is gay. What...the...hell...!! It makes sense though, this guy, like so many gay guys who refuse to believe they are gay, need sex -the act of sex. So whether it's with a woman or whatever, it doesn't matter, it's the end result that does- nothing before.

So tonight we go out to a straight bar and hang out with straight people- not sexy unless the sexy straight woman are curious. Then and only then does it get sexy. They can talk to me all night long...

Between the trash

Last week my car was in the shop because It died at an intersection, I barely made it into work and I ended up getting a ride home with the tow truck guy. I was able to walk home after dropping it off because our mechanic is only a couple of blocks away. It was on that stroll home that my mind flashed to just how dirty my car was and how I'm actually embarressed that someone else is going to now see it. My car is a trash heap.

I was thinking about what that says about a person: how clean (or dirty) you keep your car. On the surface one would obviously conclude that a dirty car means an unkept home, a messy bedroom, a disorganized person or maybe the person is just a slob in general. On the flip side an immaculate car would mean just the opposite. Now my car may be a trash heap on the inside, but that doesn't mean I neglect it's engine, maintanance or body- I'm just a slob. It's strange that my car is trashy, I mean it's not like I walk around with stains on my clothing looking like I'm completely lost, and clueless to everything and everyone around me; but if you didn't know me and I picked you up off the street you might think some crazy thoughts because of just how messy it is. I notice the trash every morning when I get in and tell myself I need to pick it up but days go by, more wrappers, receipts and empty coffee cups get tossed down there and nothing happens. I have 4 empty coffee cups hanging out in my car at this very moment. As I say it, I can't actually believe it; it's like I have a problem or something. As much as I dislike it, I won't clean it.

C. Love and I have had many discussions and arguments about this issue. She likes nothing on the coffee table, I like everything on it. She hates that the one chair in our bedroom has become my chair and is constantly covered with clothing; clothing that I have just taken off, and can't seem to put inside the drawers where they belong. I don't fold, could care less if the bed is made, if the newspaper is on the floor, if the cat's toys are all over the house, or if things are not "picked up"- but I can't stand dirty dishes in the sink or crumbs on the floor. It has become a constant struggle to come to some sort of aggrement around this issue for us. While organization and picked up rooms give me a sense of unease, a messy room makes her anxious. Over the years I've learned to be more consious about things and she has learned to let unimportant things slide. The argument ensues when she's just finished picking up and I unconsciously mess it up. It's like she's just done her hair and I take my hands and rub them all over her head- messing up her work. It's that severe and it feels that personal to her. That's when I get it.

While I do believe organization in one's life is necessary, an obsession over it is not and it's rare that those people who tend to love organization can't help themselves from taking it too far. I think the fact that my car is so messy and I leave it that way it's because I can. It's my space, it's my mess, my car and my decision to live with it. If we shared a car I wouldn't have it this way and if I lived alone I hate to say it but I would be a complete mess and so would my home. I have some issues with being independent, with being "a couple", and with having to "work" at things that don't come naturally- like picking the Sunday newspaper off the floor by noon. So my car has taken on the stage, as the place to let it all hang out.

I wonder if there's a correlation between alphabetizing your cd collection and having a clean car. I don't want to try it to find out.

cocktail hour... or two

Got the grill out today- April 23, the season starts! It officially started last week for me when I noticed Sam Adams Summer brew was back on the shelves, now that was a day to celebrate. As far as the Summer ales go, Sam Adams is my favorite and will be in my fridge from now until late September. Speaking of beer and grills and celebrating I'd like to deticate this post to talking about "cocktail hour" and what that means to everyone out there... fuck, this is totally off the subject, but it's distracting me big time. We have a neighbor who's from Paris and it seems like she has a couple of friends or maybe family over tonight. That's not the problem. What is, is that unfortunately we share a back porch area and they are all on it- completely taking over the space. That's not even the real problem; my issue is that I have to go in and out of that door in about 1/2 hour to grill and before I do that I'm trying to have my own cocktail hour as I write this but the Frenchies are practically standing in my kitchen at this very moment. If I turn around I'll see them and if this post had volume, you'd hear them- the French are very, very loud. Plus I think they may be drinking... shit. I gotta get up and get to my fridge and work in my kitchen, but if I close the door I'm going to seem rude. I hate this. I love my space and I hate when my space gets invaded. I don't speak french, I have no idea what the hell they are saying- fuck.

Anyway, (I'll try to focus) I'm actually writing a book about the subject of cocktail hour and I thought it would be interesting to get the opinions of others to help me along. The book will be a coffee table book with big glossy, cool photos. I'd like it to be about cocktail hour in general and seperate it into seasons; summer of course being my favorite, but I've found that the cocktail hour adapts to it's surroundings: snow, friday evenings, Christmas lights, work related, the summer sun, the cripness of the fall and the openness of spring time. The drinks may be different and the mood enhanced depending on the time of year, but it basically all comes down to three things: drinks before dinner and relaxation.

I honestly don't think enough people take advantage of this hour in the day. It's a fantastic time to step back from everything you've done (or not done) within the last eight hours and imagine what you would like for yourself in the next eight. I was talking to my dad on the phone the other day and he was giving me the run down on what he and my mom had planned for the day. Besides the usual stroll to the beach and working in the yard he threw in "our glass of wine at three o'clock." All I heard was wine and three o'clock. I thought about it for a split second and realized that my parents actually go to bed around 9, eat dinner around 5:30, so it only makes sense that their cocktail hour is between 3 and 4 in the afternoon. Cheers to them.

The point is that whether you choose your cocktail hour to be three, four, five or six- if it's done correctly it can become a time to cherish. Now I'm not talking about "happy hour" where the drinks are half priced between 4 and 5 at the local pub. when I think about cocktail hour my mind wanders to that stretch of time before dinner and after the chores, such as checking the e-mail, playing with the kitty or walking the pooch have been completed. It is with that little stretch of time where our bodies and hopefully minds relax and the drink helps to bring your focus back to what's important in our life. We tend to loose sight of that as we submerge ourselves in our work day, and week. Think of it as an hour long meditation- only there's an alcoholic beverage involved. What could be better.

Cocktail hour becomes a structured time that allows us to let go of the negative stuff and simply relax! It's a funny thing but when our mind knows that it's time to relax, our bodies follow. The goal here is to dedicate time for ourselves and celebrate with our favorite beverage-alcoholic or not. So break out the cheese and crackers, crack open that wine or beer and sit back for an hour. Slow down and cherish the good thoughts.

Update: the frenchies have gone inside and my food is on the grill. C. Love has a friend over to help her with the website so it's up to me to get the dinner on the table in time. I just brought them some wine, and some italian bread with (excellent) olive oil for dipping. I got my own Sam Adams and bread in the kitchen. So here's the deal: I want some fresh ideas having to do with cocktail hour. Let me know your favorite environment to drink in when it comes to "the hour", or your favorite appetizer or your favorite drink- whatever it may be. If I use any of your words or ideas or anything in my book I'll give ya a little something... or at the very least I'll throw the hugest cocktail party you've ever been to... and you're invited. Get to work- actually, pour yourself a drink, sit back and relax and imagine cocktail hour- then comment. Thank you all in advance. Here's a toast to the hour- whatever the hour may be.

Random Monday Thoughts

I was just going through the photos on my phone and I noticed I have about six of the women above, Mia Hamm. I also have two of Amy Ray, but that's another story. Last October we were invited to a luncheon given in honor of Mia. She received some kind of award that day; gave a speech, signed some autographs and met some fans. C. Love has always been kind of obsessed with Mia, the way she looks and the way she handles the soccer ball so getting the chance to meet her face to face, up close and personal was a little overwhelming to say the least.

I was thinking about how so many people have these fantasies and stuff about people in the news, or on T.V. and I don't think I ever have. It kind of makes me sad, like I've been deprived or something. I remember saying to C. Love that day that Mia looked hot, I mean she looked really hot... and I don't say that about too many people. The picture doesn't really show that, except you can kind of get an idea of how "fitting" her clothes were, and belive me the pants were even better. Mia has never gotten any awards for the most stylish of athletes, but that day at the luncheon sure made up for all of her past so- so appearances. I've always thought Mia was attractive, but not sexy-until last October.

Then I was thinking about what's sexy to one person isn't necessarily sexy to another, and then I was thinking about recieving a Victoria's Secret package for C. Love at work today and how everyone gave me a jokingly hard time; like it was sexy lingerie or some shit. Then I was thinking how sexy lingerie doesn't do it for me... then I was thinking, what does? I may be in the minority here but I'd rather see someone with their clothes (as long as they're not old gray sweats) on, rather than see them nude. Lace and skin? no thanks. Where the hell am I going with this. I don't know, all this Fed Ex talk is getting to me because I've never even seen a hot Fed Ex chick! What's the problem?

The problem is I can't seem to wrap my brain around things that aren't real. Real as in having seen face to face; after that? forget about it, or should I say I can't forget about it. I have a hard time letting things go from my mind if they make an impact. Anyway from sexy Mia Hamm my mind went to the weather and just how nice it was out today, it was 71 degrees! Finally. I can't say enough about how I love warm weather, but on the down side to that I HATE warm weather fashion, or should I say bad fashion. Here's just a few of the things I noticed today that made me stop dead in my tracks and say to myself "what the hell are they thinkin?"

Now remember it's only 71 degrees in April- not 101 in August.
1. Women with half shirts on. Now most of the time I'm not even sure if these shirts are supposed to be half shirts or that they're just too small for the size of the mid-section.

2. Men with short shorts. No man should ever wear short shorts, running, walking or lounging short shorts, unless they are a gay man in Provincetown. (even then it's questioable)

3. Men with huge white feet and sandals. I have a hard time seeing anyone's bare feet, but especially men with weird, white, huge, toes. Are your feet sweating? why now, why today.

4. Little girls or young teens with flip flops, tank tops and underwear for shorts. Cute? No.

5. Women in pleated shorts. Again, it's not really hot outside today and even if it was pleated shorts? come on now. Get some pants on.

6. Teens with sweat pants and flip flops. Sweat pants with anything written on the ass should be taken off the market and young females wanting to show their ass, belly button and breasts off when wearing them makes me angry .

7. Little kids in pajamas- outside. What the fuck is this?! I saw 4 different children in two different places wearing their pajamas. Two kids (like 7) were at the mall and two kids (maybe 8 and 6) were RIDING THEIR BIKES on my street. Riding their bikes?! What's going on? I don't get it. They were really pajamas by the way. I'm not joking.

If anyone has any answers to any of these mind blowing scenes please enlighten me. So that was my Monday. Has anyone seen Mia Hamm lately? I know she's in LA with Nomar, but that's all I know. So many questions today, hopefully the rest of the week will be a little more settling.

Kick back and relax

The other day I was noticing that most of my posts are long and I actually apologized for it in one of them. My apology stems from my own dislike for other people's long posts and my inability to stay with the words long enough to grasp the meaning- if there is one. I have a short attention span, sometimes taking it as far as to say I have adult A.D.D. I don't, but at times it comes in handy to say I do.

It's funny, not funny ha ha, but ironic funny that I really like the idea of someone sitting with one of my posts maybe long enough to enjoy a glass of wine or at least a meaningful moment in time. That idea is very enticing to me and I need to thank earth monkey for throwing it my way. she commented on my apology and said that she doesn't mind the length of my posts, she just plans on staying a little longer when she comes over. I liked the sound of that. I've always been a bit envious of the bloggers out there who can simply write one sentence or one thought or one conversation or mention one thing. Viewing the world in black and white with a little pink or green or blue thrown in amazes me because as zoe has noticed, I can be a bit intense and thought provoking when it comes to sharing my view and commenting on situations. I like when there's meaning to things, when it's not always as straightforward as what's right in front of our eyes. It's what I hated about the movie "Crash" and the same thing I loved in the movie "Brokeback Mountain". Anything that leaves me thinking and doesn't do the thinking for me- you know what I mean? Sometimes what it is, is just what it is and that's cool too, but if it's not I can't help but notice and point it out.

Anyway, when earth monkey said what she said I took the rest of the evening to sit with it. Literally, on the kitchen floor. Typically on Friday night C. Love and I like to keep it simple; no entertaining, no bar scene, no cooking, no buisness- just us. Usually it's pizza and beer and we'll see where that goes type of night, or in the case of last night it was pizza and wine. Something's working right when you can spend a good hour or so sitting on the kitchen floor with your partner drinking wine while discussing life and love- it's cool. So many times I feel like we're living out potential scenes in movies. Here's the scene: Small, old, that yellow type of dim lighting, colorful kitchen, a black and white checkerboard floor, little christmas lights hanging up, an adorable kitten rolling around, bottles of wine sitting everywhere, various interesting prints on the wall, my sexy girlfriend sitting on a stool... The conversation is about our future, about our dreams, about what we think and how we think it. Cool thoughts, words, visions and a feeling that something bigger is going on- some love thrown in... it's all good and it's just really a pizza and wine Friday night. That scene in the movie you'd remember because of how it made you feel, not because of a great Beth Orton song in the background or a certain line that was delivered.

We killed the wine, devoured the pizza and brought the party, conversation and love to the couch. I was thinking about this blog of mine and what earth monkey led me to imagine. I think it would be cool if I had a blog that was considered a place to go to when people wanted to kick back and just be. Read, laugh, think, maybe get angry, get confused, feel warm, feel safe, and take their sweet time doing it. I like thinking of potentially being that go to place where people can get some down time. I'm all for the down time. That's one reason I like baseball, the game is so long and sloooow. Sometimes it feels as though my mind is on cruise control and when people are talking to me I can see their lips moving and maybe catch a couple of words here and there but that's about it. I hate the fast talkers, fast walkers, loud voices and bright lights. Give me long, slow,quiet anything in the dark and I'm good...anything. On the flip side I love flipping through the channels on the T.V. and checking out blogs while doing it.

Once again all I really wanted to say in this post was a thank you to earth monkey for helping me to turn something that was bothersome into a positive thing, but if I can get you to come in, sit down, have a drink and relax, than cheers to that.

Know and don't care

When I moved out here to Chicago the most difficult part of the whole process was leaving behind my three little nephews and adorable little niece. They literally hung on to my clothes and wouldn't let go when it was time for the actual goodbye. It was hard for them to understand. All they heard was that I wanted to leave home- and leave their little lives. That was only half true. I did want to leave home and needed to move away from my family so I could finally grow up and live my own life, but there was no way I wanted to abandon them-no way. How in the hell are you supposed to explaine that to kids? They were only 1,3,4 and 7 yrs old. I'm not sure what was going through their minds at the time, if anything, but I know that the three younger ones had no idea what or where "Micago" was (that's how the three year old said it) and they also had no clue that I was gay. I'd like to believe my whole family was aware on some level, but it wasn't spoken of until I came out here to live; where I was already at a safe enough distance to dodge the bullets, if any were to come. None came, but that's another story.

Years have gone by, the kids are now old enough to know exactly where Chicago is and they have been begging their parents year after year to come out and visit. Every one has been out here except the kids, my brother in law and actually- my brother. My sister has come a couple of times, my parents, C. Love's parents, C. Love's brother and even my sister in law. Now that I think about it it's kind of ironic that my brother hasn't been out. He had the hardest time out of anyone when I told him I was gay- he just cried a lot because he didn't want me to suffer. Anyway, we're not going that way now; my point is that next week my brother, his wife and my niece and nephew are coming into town. It's school vacation week and the 15 year old is on a quest to visit every single ballpark and Wrigley Field is next on the list. They will be here from Wednesday night-Saturday night.

Over the last couple of years C. Love and I have always assumed that the kids know about us just because kids are so smart and intuitive, but we weren't 100% sure. They always treat us like they know, but then again, they're just being normal. It's the adults that act strange when they know. So I was thinking the other day that they may actually not know and how strange it would be to have them here! I freaked out a little, mostly because worrying about people knowing or not knowing is something we haven't (thankfully) delt with in a very long time. And there's no way we want to go back there. I've wanted to tell the kids, but I figured it was their parents job and decision as to when they get told and how... and what...

To make a long post not any longer, I'll cut to the chase. I really need to make these shorter and I apologize for taking up your precious time. But I appreciate the patience if you stay. Anyway, I thought it would probably be a good idea if I send an e-mail their way to ask if the kids know. Straight out and away. I did and the reply back was "yes and they don't care." At first I felt a wave of relief and seconds later another wave of that's it?! that's all I get? I guess it doesn't matter, what matters is that they know and they say they don't care. Little kids are great, now if they could just stay that way...

A sight for sore eyes

I've never been a fan of group situations; whether the group is meeting for dinner, drinks or discussion-I don't want any part of it. There's too much room for awkward situations when a lot of people are around and I can't help from paying attention to every single one of them. I usually amuse myself, but that's it and the point of a group is to socialize. I do better socially one on one. If there's more than four I tend to just shut off mentally, plus I've this strange belief that groups aren't cool. Whatever.

Last night we had plans to meet up with some old acquaintances and new faces for dinner. Everyone present was part of that Chicago Rainbow group we belong to. C. Love and I have had many discussions about not only joining this group, but we have also had on- going heated discussions about actually "going out" with the group. I want friends to just magically appear, there's no way I want to make the effort to meet them, especially when it's a group of lesbians- How awkward. It's situations like this where my need to feel cool gets in the way of my having any opportunity to actually be cool. I usually act like a two year old and put up a fuss the whole week prior up to the moment of impact. It's rough for C. Love. This time was different, I was willing to go because of the convenience aspect(I'm a convenience junkie) and I've been telling myself to grow up: shut up and put up. Anyway, last night we met up with about 16 of them at a pretty nice restaurant in Evanston called Flat Top Grill.

We met our party in the back and made it through the first round of introductions. Within four minutes I had ordered and received my first beer-excellent. Within an hour after that two more had been consumed. Three beers in an hour? is that a lot? C. Love was keeping an eye on me but we have this unspoken rule that sometimes I just get to drink-with no questions asked. She's the more outgoing one in this relationship; I take the role as the quiet one on the side with the issues- fine with me. After the second beer C. Love asked " how are you doing?". I responded with, "well, it's not my ideal situation (more people approaching, questions being asked) but I'm better now. I do it all for you"(with a smirk). C. Love then makes a bowing motion and laughs. I know I can be a jerk. At this Flat Top place you have to get up and get your own food: you choose the rice or noodles, various vegetables, sauces, meat, etc, hand it to the stir fry guys and go back to your seat. They bring it to you. Again, not my ideal situation, too much work, too much walking around and too much elbow rubbing. Not convenient, but it was good. During dinner I was noticing two things: who was drinking alcohol, and who looked like someone I could be friends with. We were divided between two tables and thankfully our table was the drinking table! Yeh, I don't have to drink alone. C.Love had one, some good looking theatre chick across from us had three, a semi obnoxious sports fan (not that I have anything against sports at all) had I think one, maybe two but I doubt it, and a non descript, random, leather jacket wearer (that's all I noticed) had one. After one more beer to finish off the evening, we headed home.

All in all it was an enjoyable evening. Good food, some laughs. I felt very comfortable with this group, everyone was and always is very, very nice. Those lesbians... they have good hearts, well most of the ones we come in contact with in the Rainbow at least. It's never easy to be catergorized into a group like that, usually I feel confined and can't wait to get out. I wonder what the hell people are thinking about C. Love and I. It never looks like we fit in, or at least it feels that way. I'm always the drinker looking like she wants to kill someone for the first hour, after that I'm the funny cool one making everyone feel comfortable. I have no idea what people think, and maybe I shouldn't.

My point to this post has to do with you guys out there. I'm so used to seeing people first and getting to know them second. With this blogging thing it's the other way around and I'm starting to get a little nervous. It's driving me nuts not knowing what everyone out there looks like, but in a way I never want to know. It's funny how we (I) form opinions about people from what they say, the words they use, and the way they say a certain something, or their description of a situation. I try to imagine what everyone out there looks like: tall, short, young, old, wide, narrow, blond, brunette, red head, in shape, femme, butch- a little of both, stylish, old school, tough, soft, as cool looking as they sound or as smart looking as they sound or as tough looking as they sound, as nice as they sound or as cold hearted as they sound. And when I only see someone at a bar, at dinner, out and about, I try to imagine what they would be like at home, in a stressful situation, whether they have a good soul or a cold heart, if they are actually as sexy in bed as they may seem, if they like it bright or dull, slow or fast... anything and everything goes through my head.

With you guys, all I want to know now is... someday? Who knows. It kind of freaks me out.

See ya next year... I guess

I started this damn post on Sunday, went back to it on Tuesday night, but wasn't really quite sure where it was headed. That was until I read zoe's post, now I know this is just a case of adding fuel to an already existing fire.

When we cancelled our cable last November the only thing, and I mean the only thing we were upset about was knowing we were going to miss the ladies on Showtime- you know the ones. The only reason we got digital cable in the first place was to watch that damn show in the comfort of our own livingroom. After Sunday night I was so thankful we made that decision. We actually only saw the first and last episode of season 3, but to to echo Zoe's thoughts... the last episode of the L Word sucked!!!!!!!!!!!! Wedding dresses, Shane leaving the scene of love...again, Julie Roberts brother as her Dad?... Bette and that baby driving into the abyss, skiing, Max's facial hair, boyfriends? it was all just too much, not very funny and not sexy at all. I don't know about you, but we (used to) like watching it when there were no babies crying, when Jenny couldn't find her way out of that shed, when Shane took a dip in the pool with a different woman every day, when Bette and Tina were actually Bette and Tina, when Dana was alive and well fumbling with her sexuality, when the only guy on the show was Tim, when the Planet was just a place to kick back and get a cup of Joe... and when it felt good to watch the show because the issues seemed somewhat normal; now it all seems like a big fat joke. Check out Alice's face- not funny right? She used to be funny, like Dana was. Now she's crazy and Dana is dead. Dead? Did they really have to do that!? Nobody likes hospital scenes-nobody. WE JUST WANT HOT SEX WITH SHANE and more beautiful women walking around drinking coffee. That's why we watched in the first place- duh.We got enough problems just being a lesbian.

We used to be obsessed with the show in season 1 because it was so refreshing and cool to see hot, successful, lesbians on T.V. It was unfortunately something we have craved for a very long time, a sad as that is. They were living somewhat normal lives and it made us feel…well, normal. Even if it was fake. Season 3 sucked, I totally believe and trust whatever Zoe said. Oh and the music?... SUCKED! Who the hell was that? I hate rap, I hate lesbians rapping, and I also hate that band Betty. The music in season one was great, where did it go? I don’t know, I obviouly have no clue. It was very disappointing to watch that show on Sunday night, and we had to do it with a bunch of drunken lesbians at a local bar-standing up.

When we came home we stripped ourselves of our smokey smelling clothes, fell onto the couch, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was over. And then I felt an uncontrollable need to connect with my blogging world and get back into reality; back to a world where the interesting, funny lesbians are. Thank you.

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".