Not what I crave

This came up in conversation with someone the other day and it comes up quite often in different circumstances so I was thinking there's probably a reason for it; I know the reasons are not the obvious ones though.

We were talking about rollercoasters and I said I had never been on one. I know, you're saying what?! never been on a roller coaster?. Yup, never. The reason being is because where I grew up in Massachussetts, there weren't any amusement parks close by and every summer we headed two hours south to Cape Cod and Cape Cod only. Sure we went camping every so often in New Hampshire and Maine and we took family vacations in the off season to Florida and Washington but still no amusement parks to be had. So after the rollercoaster comment, I immediately said "there are three big things that I've never done: one- never been on a rollercoaster; two- never ridden a horse; and three- never had a White Castle burger.

Rollercoasters, horses and burgers. Three kind of strange, random things that I've never experienced, and everytime I say it I think the same thing, that I have no burning desire to do any one. I can think of three other things I've never done that I'm dying to do: Head to the North shore in Hawaii, lay down on the beach and feel the power of the waves. I'd like to be able to pay cash for my next car and I'd like to try an In-N-Out burger while hanging in California. Now those are three fairly simple things for some other people but I'm sure they too have their own lists to deal with. For Gidget out there in hawaii, she may wishing she could try an authentic, deep dish Chicago style pizza... no problem dude, I'll be happy to trade you a pizza for a beach towel any day.

Here goes...

Being 'tagged' feels like when I used to receive those awful chain letters in the mail. But unlike being tagged on blogs, being the recipient of a chain letter used to scare me half to death, made me angry as hell and left me feeling 'empty'. Needless to say I have been tagged, and since it's from fairyland I can't walk away and pretend I never received it- the angels might get me.

When did I start blogging and why?

I started blogging on June 7, 2005. My first post was a music review of Coldplay's album, "X and Y". I think I started blogging because I was looking for a 'tool' to help me to write on a regular basis. Nothing else was working.

What don't I write about?

Well, I don't have any interest in writing about things that don't resonate with me at all. Even if it's stupid but it interests me in some way I'll blog about it, but I won't just write a post just to get something out there. Same goes for the comments, I won't ever comment on someone elses just for comment sake. I have to relate in some way in order for me to respond. I hate writing about politics, what my cat did yesterday or how many times per week I've had sex- and how it felt...

Am I and my blogging persona the same person?

Yes. And no. Mostly yes. I may be a little 'louder', harsher and more fearless on my blogg. Not so much in real life, unless I'm provoked...

How do I use blogging to build friendships?

I'm not sure that's what I'm doing because sometimes this doesn't feel real. Even though I know it is.

How do I describe my blogging style?

I don't know, I just write whatever hits hard in my gut, my mind, my eyes or my heart.

I am not going to pass this along to anyone specific because I don't like putting anyone on the spot, but let me know if you want to be touched and I'll be happy to 'tag' you.

Give me my swing set back... please.

Since I'm obviously (well I guess only to me) struggling with some issues lately: taking control of my life, kicking fear in the ass, living like I only have one life to live and knowing from the depth of my soul that it's now or never... I'm gonna spend some time writing about being a little kid. Because when I was a little kid none of this 'life' stuff was important, the only thing that made sense was me thinking: am I happy and if not, what I can do about it. Since I can't unfortunately play with my brother's friends just because my own are too boring to play with, or swing on my swing set until it's time for dinner or play with my colorforms or watch Mr. Rogers on T.V., I thought It might help me to feel better if I imagined what I would be doing tonight if I was 5 again. I certainly wouldn't be sitting here thinking about the fact that the rest of my life is in my own hands and I have complete control over what happens for me.... no way, not that.

If I were five tonight I would be outside playing 'kick the can' and kicking the hell out of that can; I could possibly be sitting in my bean bag chair with my bathing suit on waiting for the morning to come; I may be feeling really sleepy because I played kick ball all day long at the playground with my 'playgroup'; I could very well be sitting on my porch in my grandmother's lap feeling as though there's no better place to be; I might be walking on the beach with my mom, dad, brother and sister for an after dinner stroll; I could be just lying in bed listening to the sound of the waves or sitting at my dining room table admiring my sea shell collection from spending the last five hours at the beach. Whatever I may have been doing back then it didn't really matter. My point is that my mind was focused on feeling good, that's really all a little kid wants to feel and I remember I would do anything I had to do to get there, it was just a fact. There were no 'issues' to deal with, no fear, no anger, no thinking involved- just a focus on being content and feeling like everything was ok.

I wish I could think like a five year old when it didn't matter if I sat in my brother's treehouse till someone finally found me or spent the afternoons cutting big worms in half just to watch them move seperately. Because whatever I did didn't have any effect on whatever I was going to do next. Little kids live in the moment... I'm still that same little kid, I need to remember that. Everything's ok and everything will be ok, but it's not as easy as it once was to think like that.

crowd control

I have this love hate relationship with crowds and it drives me crazy. I love looking at them from a distance and commenting but hate when they come too close and invade my 'space'.

On Friday night we went to an outdoor concert, the headliner was the Indigo Girls. Now I've seen Indigo a thousand times, well not a thousand but close to it. This isn't however a review on their performance from the other night, all I'll say about that was that it was as always, very comforting and enjoyable to see them live and that night was no exception.

We went to a place called Ravinia Park in Highland Park, Il. Ravinia is an outdoor music venue known for its expansive beautiful lawn area which offers an informal place to kick back, enjoy a 'picnic' and listen to the music that's blaring from the speakers on the trees. The problem arises with everyone setting up camp: laying down the blankets, assembling the tables, opening the chairs, cracking open the beer or wine and setting up their food spread. It's like watching something personal in a public place-it's funny. The point is to hang back and relax under the sun and stars- if you can, I get easily distracted so it takes me awhile to settle down. Ravinia also has an open-air covered pavillion seating area for about 3,200; it is used mostly for symphony concerts, but it's open for all of the events all summer long. Anyway, my point is not to describe how beautiful this place is, it's to talk about how annoying it can be.

Most of the season ticket holders to Ravinia are upper class older folks who buy them for the classical series. The problem is... well two things: Ravinia is located in one of the most affluent suburbs in Illinois (you know where I going with this, right?) and the season ticket holders don't care who is performing on any given night, they just want to entertain- on their fucking big ass blanket. Lots of these people treat this so called 'lawn' area as if it were their livingroom/diningroom/kitchen, and it's annoying as hell to those people like myself who just want to hang out under the stars for a couple of hours, listen to some good tunes and munch on some fried chicken. It's usually an enjoyable time when we go but for some reason Friday night wasn't so great. I'm not sure if it was because I was in a negative space( bad discussion/argument with boss an hour before) or the crowd was extra annoying. I can't seem to seperate.

For starters it was an INDIGO GIRLS concert... hellllloooo!!? Indigo Girls?. Snotty republicans, preppy straight couples, kids, pregnant girly- girls and 'the girls' don't mix. Half of the people there had probably never even heard of the Indigo Girls and these same people were taking up massive lawn space with elaborate props and annoying habits. There are a few things I never want to see at an outdoor concert where sitting on the lawn is the option:
Little kids, high heels, high portable picnic tables, real candleabras- lit, rugs, strollers, a set up that is the replica of their diningroom table and people dressed like they're at the symphony. I saw all of this and more on Friday. And here are a few things I never want to see at an Indigo Girls concert but usually do:
Straight couples (sorry), little kids, people who are dressed like they are at the symphony, old couples, gay men (it just annoys me because they are everywhere), groups of straight women, and traditional looking older lesbian couples... (the look is old school) GET SOME NEW JEANS!!!!!!!! that's all I have to say about that-
So I saw all of this at the concert Friday night plus so much more I can't or shouldn't go into for various reasons. All that aside, we(I) managed to have an ok time while we drank our beer, ate our fried chicken and lounged in our chairs. We saw some friends, made new friends and heard some fabulous music by Amy and Emily, but I couldn't seem to shake my mood. I was still angry from my conversation at work so instead of the crowd entertaining me it just annoyed me more. I struggled with this as I did my best to just sit with myself and keep my mouth shut, but I ran out of beer-

I have a hard time letting something go from my system if I don't have the opportunity to discuss it and on Friday night my anger just swelled inside of me. Unfortunately I let it out on C. Love by acting cold, heartless and 'short'. I hate when that happens. I was unaware of it at the time but I also knew things just weren't right. I just assumed it was the annoying crowd. We had the beer and friends to distract us from my angst but needless to say the ride home sucked.

Through all of it I still managed to pour on the charm when the women next to us struggled with constructing their 'table in a bag', I hate to watch people struggle so I offered to help. I guess it worked because later on when it was time to light the candles, once again the ladies struggled- they needed a match and guess who had one- yup, only this time they came crawling (literally) to me. I guess they didn't sense my negative energy flowing in the wind. That's good, I don't like when it gets out. It's hard enough to control it on this blog, let alone up close and personal.

There's something good in everything. I guess.

I'll get right to the point- we rented the movie " Imagine Me and You" the other night and the only thing I took away from it was the questioning of who one of the main characters was; her 'real' name is Lena Heady and as you can see she's hot.

Two things here: One, the movie sucked and two, whoever wrote it is living in la-la land. It was about this gay chick who 'made eyes' with a bride at the bride's wedding; tried to get with her for the next hour or so (movie time) and finally wins her heart in the end... during a traffic jam- strange, but it involved 'catching her before she boarded the plane- the 'I can't do this to you' getaway plane. A lot of people have called this flick "cute" but cute is for little fluffy kittens, chubby little babies and stuffed animals- not a movie about the girl getting the girl. This movie was just goofy.

It was easy to watch but I'm not sure why it was rated R because there was no sex, language, drug use or violence. Just flowers and kissing, like I said- boring. It was like the movie took place fifty years from now when falling in love with someone of your same sex wouldn't be considered such a big deal- it's just a simple fact. There were no issues in this one, no internal struggles and no anger- none. The bride's family even drove the car to help their daughter win the girl in the end, one big happy family. Fluff I tell you, it was all fluff.

You can let your kids watch this one, it makes falling in love with the same sex look as easy and pain free as making playdough houses. The real world it's not; a good-looking movie it is.

From JonBenet to wimpy women

Trinity2 started it- Here's nine more things that 'make me sick':

Recap: #1- Little kids who look like JonBenet Ramsey. I can't stand those beauty pageants and it makes me ill to know that mothers are doing this to their children. Plus the kids just look freaky.

#2- People who complain that they are 'broke' while they lounge in front of their 50" plasma HDTV watching "Wife Swap" as they discuss where to go for the long weekend... What?!

#3- People who insist (or anyone who mentions it for that matter) that a child brought up in a home with a man and a women is the best thing for the child and if it's brought up in a 'gay' home it will be detrimental to their little well being. And the guy saying this has abused his wife in front of his child. Now they make me real sick. Sick to my stomach it's so maddening.

#4- People who ever say "it's only a dog"

#5- Watching a woman struggle in the diaper aisle because: a) she's miserable- b) she's got a little one in her arms screaming- c) three more running around like crazy kids and last but not least d) she's fucking pregnant...again. This same women uses food stamps at the check out and is talking to her kids as if they were the most horrible things in her life. Birth control is so simple, is it not? I don't get it, it makes me angry-then sick because little innocent children have to grow up with this.

#6- Food fests. Any 'taste of' any city. The amount of food people shove into their mouths makes me ill.

#7- The amount of skin showing at Wrigley Field. There are more young women in bathing suit tops there than people who care about baseball. And Everyone around here is scratching their heads trying to figure why exactly the cubs organization sucks. Duh...

#8- While I'm at it that brings up sweaty skin on un-attractive smelly people in general. I hate going to the grocery store when it's hot out because people smell, look sweaty and it all happens around food. Makes me want to vomit.

#9- Public swimming pools. Especially if I notice a little babies walking around with only diapers on sitting in the shallow end... all I can think about is diarrhea. Disgusting thought.

#10 -Women who can hardly stand on their own two feet. Helpless women who can't think for themselves, refuse to use the muscles in their body, take the 'submissive' angle, or think their life is worth shit without a man by their side.

That helped- give it a try...

The need for speed

There's been a lot of 'talk' around feeling stuck, moving forward, sex and drinking lately in blog land and it's got me thinking. Well, not that I don't feel or think about any of those things on a regular basis but trinity2's post got my juices flowing a little faster than usual this evening.

She was talking about the adrenaline rush and not being able to turn the feeling off. Part of me thinks she shouldn't turn it off; that's what it's all about- the rush. Granted you can't necessarily live your normal mundane life with the adrenaline turned up to high but the fact you can actually feel your adrenaline is something to take notice of. I was thinking that that's part of my problem theses days; I have an issue with not living my life to its fullest. Lately my mind has felt like it's had restraints on it preventing me from my creativity and enthusiasm and it's driving me insane. The other day I said I needed a miracle to occur, some huge thing that's like life changing. I was feeling like I needed an outside source to wake me up, to kick start my adrenaline and get my creative juices flowing again. I don't honestly know what that could be exactly. Jokingly I was saying something along the lines of " I need someomeone to just say here's a new jeep wrangler for you- I can't keep it and I don't want any money for it." (my car is slowing dying and could actually die any day now-could be tomorrow.) Not that that would in any way be life changing, but it would stop cluttering up my mind with stupid nonsense like hoping I make it to work without breaking down. Fuck, I hate old cars.

I think what I was thinking was if someone handed me a new jeep wrangler I'd get in and drive nonstop to the nearest coastline, where I could actually breath- and think freely. I was telling trinity2 that I love speed but then a wave of sadness come over me in the middle of writing my comment because I realized I rarely experience that feeling . I don't downhill ski, I can't stand snow; I've never been on a rollercoaster, hate amusement parks; I don't own a sports car anymore, can't speed in the SUV and my piece of junk shakes if I go over 60. If you don't own a motorcycle or drive a race car how the hell does one get to experience a little speed?! I'm not interested in jumping out of a plane or drinking gallons of Red Bull either.

It's an inner jump start I need. I think part of it is a mental stimulation, or emotional... or something. Anyway, I'm not a simple, dull, unexcitable person and I think my soul is trying to tell me that. I just wish it would speak louder...

nap time

Even my run sucked today. I can't seem to focus on anything, feel grounded or 'sit with' anything lately and whenever this happens I always want to figure out why.

It's Monday and it feels like Saturday; I didn't have the Sunday blues this week-instead it'll be the Tuesday night blues; It's the 4th of July weekend and there isn't one kid in the park next door; We've decided to have a yard sale- a yard sale?... we don't do stuff like that, we just bring huge garbage bags full of stuff to the donation place; We just purchased tickets to some "L Word" event at the House of Blues featuring Betty (I hate them) hosted by Ilene Chaiken with appearences by the cast?... what?, in Chicago?. I have no idea ( it's a 'Gay Games closing party) You all know how I feel about the idiodic Gay games, but this is different. There will be no running or jumping involved at the HOB. Where the fuck is the sun?! My mind is everywhere and nowhere all at the same time, I can't focus. Usually running helps me focus, or music... drinking always does, but it's too early for that.

One of the problems was that we didn't have any plans set up for this long weekend except for a cookout on Saturday night. That was fun but kind of strange at the same time. For starters it was requested that I bring my piggies in a blanket to this thing. It's a barbeque, not a cocktail party!... what's with wanting pigs in a blanket? I don't get it. (That reminds me to do a post on issues I have with parties-the do's and don'ts.) Then I went to grab a beer- no summer brews and the first one I tasted had rasberry in it. Disgusting, I HATE beers with flavors. You can't have a party on the 4th of July weekend and not have any summer brews in the cooler! You just can't... I drank Corona all night. We ended up eating at a table with all men; gay men and all couples. It was nice, strange but nice. But once again I find myself wondering where the hell all the women couples are. Always lots of nice, good-looking gay boys around...

The party was fine; I drank too much again; slept it off on Sunday, and here I am on Monday. Things are strange lately for lots of reasons, one being that C. Love has taken the summer off from her part time job to focus on her full time gig. This is all wonderful, good stuff but the fact that she's home all the time now has thrown me a bit. Saturday used to be my one day to focus on myself and I no longer have that. I need my space. I love C. love, this has absolutely nothing to do with her, it's just that I don't have any time to be with myself and myself only. I don't do well without it, but I need to try to figure something out because things aren't going to change.

So no structure, a change in routine and four days off in a row with nothing to do. I remember when I was a little kid I used to focus my day on that damn nap. I had a nap after lunch everyday, until I grew up and hit kindergarten, but before that no matter what happened during the day I knew I could look forward to that little stretch of time after lunch. Whether I wanted to or not, it was time to chill out. I loved nap time, it put structure in my little day and centered my little universe.

I don't want a nap now, I just want the after effects of it.

convenience is everything

Random statements and thoughts on the way to, during and after dinner on Friday night.

me: What's for dinner?
C.Love: I thought we'd go out for dinner (Friday is usually take out)
me thinking to myself: shit, I just went for a run, I'm kind of sweaty and my bandana has just wrecked my hair.
C.Love reads my mind and says "you can keep your bandana on if you want".

Work sucked but I left at 3 p.m, came home and went for a run (or a jog according to afuntanilla)
Since we decided to only go to Siam Pasta which is a couple of blocks away; we were going to walk there and eat outside, I figured it would be ok if I just changed my clothes and washed up a bit. (gross I know but it was a short run and I didn't smell. The bandana came off though.

C.Love: It's too early to go to dinner
me: you're right, let's just relax and have some cocktails!
C.Love: let's open the champagne (it's been in the fridge for way too long)
me: really? are you sure? (she didn't want to the other night, saving it for the right time)
C.Love: I listened to your summer cd today...
me: what!! that's not ready for public use!
C.Love: public use?
me: well I just... I need to change some things, I'm not completly satisfied... well, what do you think? (waiting patiently)
C.Love: well, I don't like the first song or the last, but it's good, it's very good. (ahh, that hurts)
me: I know, I don't like that last tune so much either but it works and I didn't even honestly think it would fit
C.Love: no, it's a great song and it's perfect, I just never loved it all that much.

Making mixed cd's takes me forever especially if it's a specialized one like this summer one. I'm never satisfied, but this year's is pretty good. I like it allright. I'll post the playlist another day.

C.Love: let's put in on now
me: ok!

C.Love: Now that woman is wearing a WHAT TO WEAR outfit!- nice.
me: I noticed, but only responded with a "yup" but was thinking that she looked good. She had a tight sleeveless black shirt on, brownish type fancy pants with a large flare and good sandals
C.Love: Today I saw someone with 'fancy' capris on, she had a good look: the right shoes and a crisp white shirt.
me: (laughing at 'fancy capris') Yah, capris are ok in certain situations. Somtimes they work, but most people abuse the look.

me: so trinity2 wrote another top ten post...
C.Love: wow, she's on a roll with those
me: I know, I love it. It's weird how we think the same things
C.Love: like what?, what did she say?
me: well, like one of the things that bugs her is when people eat like they're an animal; all hunched over their plate, not sitting up, taking a breath or acting normal-like that guy over there. You know, they shovel it in as if they haven't eaten in days...
me: why are there so many strange people around-

We regularly discuss the blogging world. C. Love likes to be informed to what's going on with everyone, and I like talking about it. It cracks me up, makes me feel good and is interesting.

me: that guy over there is an abuser
C.Love: what are you talking about!?
me: he hasn't stoped talking since he sat down and he won't let that woman speak- plus he's ordering her whole meal for her.

I can't stand it when the guy takes total control and speaks for his date or whatever she is. It's strange when someone orders for someone else... unless they have laryngtis. This couple was odd anyway; something just told me he was some kind of an abuser.

me: I wonder if this place realizes they have one of the best outdoor eating ares in town.
C. Love: I don't know,but the tables are too close together. I'm glad we moved our seats.
me: I know, I hate that but it's off the street and up high. It feels like we're in a treehouse. It's cool.
C.Love: you're a good date
me: what? why, what are you takin about...
C.Love: you're funny, attractive and easy, just a good date! (saying it like she's just met me)
me: (embarrassed) thanks... you're not so bad yourself. I like looking at you...

C.Love: those punks got out of that van
me: vans are never good news (chuckle to myself at what I just said)
vans are never good news? what is that-

me: they need an ice cream joint around here.
C. Love: we have some at home
me: I know, I'm just saying...

C.Love: that was a fun night: good food, it was cheap and convenient.
me: yeah, convenient, I'm all over that. Love convenience.
C. Love: I know... (sometimes it's an issue for us)

C. Love: how many beers did you have tonight?
me: what? I only had one- at dinner. Two glasses of champage and one beer-why?

That's the last thing I remember saying, then I was out like a light.

macrame vs crochet

This one's for Trinity2.

Check out her most recent post on fashion faux pas. C. Love has informed me that it's actually 'crochet' not 'macrame' we're talking about. But either way I don't think she'd mind this one on the back of her bike...

Gay pride?

This weekend is "Gay Pride" weekend in Chicago with the parade happening on Sunday. I've always wondered about the so called gay pride: whether or not I have it or had a right to own it; I've missunderstood it, hated it and felt uncomfortable around it but most of all didn't want to be associated with it. I get it now, but it took me awhile.

So Sunday is the parade-the loud, sometimes obnoxious, colorful, sometimes embarrasing, GAY PRIDE PARADE!...yea! (?) I'm going to attend because the bottom line is that when I didn't go I felt like I wasn't being true myself or 'my people'. I'd watch it on t.v, or read about it in the paper the next day and feel like I was out of the loop, out of touch, kind of living in hiding -you know? I knew I was gay, I was out to everyone I knew, I was in a loving, healthy relationship with my partner of 5,6,7,8,9,10.... whatever years but I struggled with attending the parade because I couldn't relate to it. I'm not one to flaunt anything or make a huge deal out of something that just feels normal. Why do gay people need to look like a circus act?, why the hell are they so severe looking and bright? I never understood and still don't understand why the men choose to wear their underwear and jiggle around on floats or in the crowd looking like crazy people who equate being gay with being starved for sex all the time-and only sex all the time. The angel wings and feathers, infatuation with penises and boobs and bead stuff I don't get; the mayhem of the parade is what I don't want to be a part of but the celebration of being gay I'm all over.

It's really cool to be at the parade and feel the energy of the crowd. Everyone's happy and accepting, maybe because they're drunk and could care less but whatever; the atmoshere is electric still somewhat serene at the same time- it's strange. It's so nice to be surrounded by millions of people who are all pretty much there for the same simple reason: everything is o.k., we and they are o.k. Seeing so many gay people in one place is amazing and it really makes me stop and look at my own life in the context of the rest of the world.

We all have our little safe (or not so safe) lives with our partners or friends or just ourselves and it's east to get lost and stay stuck in that. Why shouldn't we, it's not so pleasant out there. It's actually kind of freaky sometimes. Whenever I go to the parade, there are times, in the middle, I get caught up in it and feel weak and almost tearful. I know it sounds goofy but it's because the parade is very emotional. There's an actual parade (a pretty big one) going on in honor of being gay... it's strange cus what's that? we're not used to that. We're used to feeling either ashamed or 'small', not important and celebrated. We watch the fucking "L word" and dream that we could live our lives as easily and confidently as those women do. Heres the thing: we should be celebrated because to live the live we are meant to live takes a lot of guts. And we do need support becase after all there is safty in numbers and that's a fact-damn it!

It takes alot of effort on my part to go to the gay pride parade because it's a long day with lots of annoying people-gay or not and there are times I feel trapped. Trapped from the crowd, the noise, the flamboyancy and the leather, but mostly from my own inhibitions. After the parade we have a party called "Girl Blast" to go to. It's in a parking lot behind a restaurant and it feels like every gay woman in Chicagoland is there. It's cool because it's all women, it's outside, it's entertaining, there's music, a grill and beer. It's a great way to top off gay pride weekend- no men allowed and it's easy. Now beer, grills, women, parking lots and being outside are all things I can feel totally comfortable with.

Cheers to you all and to gay pride however you choose to celebrate it.

I don't get it

I don't understand this look. I don't have time to post anything meaningful, but I saw way too many feet looking like this today and I don't get it. If anyone does this could you let me know WHY! I mean if your feet are deformed then you wouldn't even own a pair of sandals, right? And if you prefer to wear socks on your feet then why would you even think about wearing sandals; they are for 'airy" feet, breathable feet, hot weather, not for feet that want to be covered! So If you choose to wear socks on a 90 degree day then why in the hell do you choose to put sandals on top of them! I DON'T GET IT!

Look at those feet? What's up?!

What the...

Could someone please enlighten me and fill me in on what the hell the Gay Games are all about? What the fuck is this!! I have absolutely no idea why they got started, what they mean or why any 'gay' person would want to be involved in it. Plus I hear that the event is open to ANYBODY: gay or un-gay. What?! Why?!

I've known that these so called 'games' have been going on since 1982, but since I now live in Chicago I can't avoid them anymore; this crazy unexplained event is happening fifteen minutes away from me. I had to resort to asking my straight (religious) guy friend the other day if he knew what they were all about, since he listens to sports radio most of the day I thought they may have said something about it - but they didn't. I felt like a fool, like I should know what they represent, but instead I just took the position of "what the fuck!, all they (we, I) want is to be included- not seperated! At least that's all I want. NORMALCY people, we're looking for normalcy here. The "Gay Games" are anything but normal. They're strange.

I think the dude that started this event wanted to show the world that 'gay' people can run fast, jump high, and throw far... just like the straight people can. I don't know, maybe there's something I'm not getting here but look at the goofy poster for the event. That looks anything but 'normal' to me.

So can someone, anyone let me in on what the hell this all means?!

Clearing the air

Sometimes this blogging thing sucks. I wouldn't consider myself an amature at it anymore but there are times when I feel like the new kid on the block trying to figure out if people would prefer cupcakes or hot fudge sundaes. I like to think I'm a pretty good communicator in real life; whether that be advocating for myself, speaking for others or taking over for the group if we happen to not be getting anywhere. I usually tell it like it is without being crass and I'm pretty good at keeping other people's feelings in check when speaking. Bottom line: I'm pretty good with relationships... face to face.

Blogging has at times been very frustrating; it's tough saying stuff to a wall. At least when you're on the phone you can hear the other people breathing, sighing, snickering, gasping or you can hear the tone in their voice go up-and down. With blogging I get none of that, you get none of that- we get none of that. We have no idea when we write about something we may find funny, it's going to be preceived as humorous, or if we write about a certain subject that means 'x', someone else is going to think it means 'y'. I don't like not being able to see expressions and hear laughter. It's hard when I sense I've either hurt someone's feelings, touched a nerve, unknowingly made someone feel 'small', or when something I've said has been misconstrued and I can't set things straight immediately. I hate the lag time.

I've been struggling with this a bit in my last post and just like never wanting to go to bed angry, I don't want to move on until I get this out-whatever it may be. I realize people take away from posts whatever it is they can relate to, whether or not it's actually written about is where the confusion comes in. A comment is then made, and then another returned-then another and by now there's something going on. Bottom line: I'm no good at long distance relationships, I think they suck. I don't like not being able to make people understand what it was I was trying to say when I think they've missunderstood. It's hard enough to fix things face to face, this way is just annoying as hell.

No Fear

The other night we happen to be hanging out at a bar where for some reason the back room at this place is always where all the lesbians go. The gay men and straight couples stay in the front where it's non smoking and a little more inviting- go figure. We go to this place often because they have decent pub food, they show the "L Word", and because every once in awhile it's refreshing to hang out with mostly women- gay ones. So we stopped in for one last beer before calling it a night, headed straight to the bar stools in the pit (back room) and watched- sometimes in amazement, young drunk lesbians... just being themselves and it was very, very funny. The outfits alone are enough to keep you laughing. C.Love was asking me how I thought I would have been as a young, punk lesbian on the prowl and I told her I honestly didn't know, but I was thinking that I really wish I had the opportunity to do so.

Unfortunately at the age of 19 I was too angry with myself and the world around me to be aware of the fact that I was gay, let alone secure enough with myself to actually have any bold moves directed towards anyone-gay or un-gay. When I watch all these young women struting their stuff whether it's geeky or cool stuff, I get a little jealous. Shit, I wish I could go back to being single and a young punk with all the confidence, coolness and attractiveness I have now. I think I'd have a lot of fun to say the least! Unfortunately twenty years ago not only was it not anywhere near accepted as it is today to be gay, but any 'gay' bar was filled with creepy looking older men only. I guess the gay women were out trying to be discrete or actually most were probably masquerading as happy straight women with their boyfriends by their side.

It seems so easy these days to be gay and out and even though I completely understand the internal struggle with coming out or accepting one's self as such, I feel so badly for people that struggle with it- young or old. Since thankfully, after much tormoil, I am beyond all of that, I can see things a hell of a lot clearer now. Hiding your sexuality from your family, friends or yourself seems so old school and so much easier to let go of than to hold on to and it's all such a waste of time. But I know... all the issues, so many issues. I get it, believe me. When I was a freshman in college fooling around with my roomate who was a sophmore and had a boyfriend, acknowleding that I was gay was the farthest thing from my mind. I wasn't gay, I was just simply attracted sexually to my hot, blond roomate! That was it and if you tried to tell me otherwise I had a wall set up so thick there was no way I heard a word you were saying. I understand that's what it's like for a lot of people, I hear about it all the time.

Anyway, back to what what I'm trying to say; I'm thankful to be where I am in my life with my sexuality and my relationship with C. Love, but sometimes I just wonder what it would have been like to be young, single and confident in the 'gay scene' of today. If I were to guess, I'd be hanging with those young punks from the other night. And just like now, I'd be lounging on the couch or hanging at the bar waiting for the ladies to come to me instead of the other way around. I've always just played it cool only back then I was too confused to know what to do with it. I know it's pointless to wonder about what could have been if..., but sometimes I'd just like to know what I'd have in me as a young, carefree, fearless lesbian looking for love.

Don't forget to floss

How can the feeling be the same as when your were seven as it is at forty one? I get it because it's me; I'm the same little kid just in a bigger body and with more stuff going on in the mind, but this one particular event has been the same every year(or 6 months) for my entire life and I find it amazing.

After my dentist has scraped and brushed and pricked I always get the same result and lucky for me it's always been a good one. I've done what I've supposed to have done which is brush in between meals and flossed; I brush after I eat any meal and floss religiously. As soon as that bib gets taken off and I get handed that toothbrush that same exact feeling comes rushing in: a sense of accomlisment and pride.

When I was little my dentist's office was inside his home which was only four houses, down a hill and around the corner away. Since it was so close by my mom let me go by myself, which was a huge enough deal on its own. The trip home was an even bigger joy, as I just couldn't wait to bust in the kitchen door and announce "no cavities!" I can see it now: my little red messy pigtails, huge smile on my face, out of breath from the sprint up the hill home and toothbrush clutched in hand. My mom was always in the kitchen waiting; waiting to give me that big hug and kiss- that held me for the rest of the day. I threw down the toothbrush on the counter and out to play I went, as content as any little kid could be.

The other day it was all the same except my dentist office is now in the office building across from my job and I strolled out the door and back into work instead of sprinting home. But I still couldn't wait to get in the door and tell the first person I saw "no cavititis!" The feeling of clutching that toothbrush and announcing my results is exactly the same as it was back when the only thing that matered in my world was winning at kickball, walking the dog, and getting that kiss goodnight from my parents.

It's funny sometimes, (actually a lot of times) I can totally feel what it was like when I was young and innocent. I'm so thankful my life experiences haven't shrouded my sense of simplicity from childhood. If anything they've only enriched them.

Running wild

Today on my run I had so many random thoughts I thought I'd put them here to get them out of my head.

1. I wondered if I wasn't myself and saw me running, if I would look twice. You know, check me out...

2. I feel guilty when I do notice people (women) checking me out because I'm imagining they are thinking wow, she must work out a lot. And I really don't, I'm just very lucky to have the body I do and am able to eat whatever the hell I want. If they only knew that I have a little belly, (beer) and I'm really kind of lazy.

3. I was thinking about zoe's last post about 'fate' and meeting her partner, B.P. Then my mind went to a comment someone made about it, sounding sweet and quirky. I find it cool hearing about that kind of stuff, especially when it's between two women and the universe obviously having a plan for them to hook up. That's not "cute" that's mind blowing.

4. I was thinking thank god it's finally June and in the same moment, shit, it's finally June. That means September is not to far away.

5. I click on soooo many blogs and can't stay focused on a lot of them- I just don't connect.

6. Why is it the one car that I want is over twenty years old. I want one of those old 1980's Toyota Land Cruisers. I always have, and still do.

7. Why does my Dad have a "home nurse"? I'm so relieved he's back home now, but he's not out of the woods yet.

8. I love being outside, I really don't like to run, but I love being in shape.

9. I can't stand the smell in a hospital; I can't stand being in a hospital...keep running...

10. I have a date tonight with C.Love. Yipee!

11. FUCK! tomorrow is sunday, then it's Monday...

12. Why the hell are there at least 3 babies, or small children (2-3 yrs) on the beach without pants on. One of them is running around naked. I don't get it, if the kid is in public PUT SOME CLOTHES ON IT! I don't want to see anyone running around with just a diaper on, it's gross.

13. That brought me to public pools-totally disgusting.

14. It's kind of cool outside. Cool as in chilly.

15. I wonder if anyone looked at C.Love's website today- she's so gifted at what she does, it's amazing. Check it out and pass along to anyone who you think could use it!

16. Here's my street, I'm hungry now.

Reality Check

It was all going along so well, the weekend that is. I talk to my parents on the phone every Sunday morning around 10:00, but today was a little different. There are times when I just don't feel like speaking or getting out of bed but the one thing that gets me to the phone is because it is from my parents. We check in with each other, talk about the weather, make sure everyone is o.k, hang up and go on with our week. It feels good.

Today there was no answer. Usually when there's no answer they are either out in the yard or on their walk and I receive a call shortly after. Today is my dad's birthday so I wanted to be the one to call them, but again no answer. Then at about 9:55 my sister calls me and I can immediately sense somethings not right. I ask her what's going on and she replys with "dad's been in the hospital since Thursday". THURSDAY!!!, first I'm thinking and wondering why and if he's o.k., then my mind immediately goes to WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU CALL ME!!!!???. Anyway to make a long story short, my dad is o.k., he was having some heart problems and got a bit nervous so they checked him in to monitor his medication. He comes out of the hospital today, thank god.

Now before I continue I know there are a lot of you out there (just in this circle alone) that have either lost a parent, struggled with a sick parent or don't have good relationships with their parents now so I'm sorry to bring up the subject, but I trust you all can handle it. There's two things going on here for me: one is the fact that my parents are old and when something like this little scare happens, the eye opening realization that they (gulp) won't be around forever. Or worse, that one will actually die without the other. The actual act of dying seems to be completely different than the fact that they won't be around anymore... geez, this is depressing. The other thing going on for me around this is the fact that my family regulary witholds things from me. Granted I have physically seperated myself from them by moving out here to Chicago, but sometimes it feels like they are in their own little way, punishing me because of that. They said they decided not to tell me my dad was in the hospital because they didn't want me to hop on a plane and come home. At first I said "I wouldn't have, but it would be nice to at least know what's going on!" then I was thinking, well hell is it the worst thing in the world if I did fly home to visit my dad? They figured there was nothing I could do. I think that should have been up to me to decide. Once the youngest in the family, always the youngest- I guess.

4 Hours later:
Well, I just called the house to see if they were home and it's turned out that my dad is going to stay in until Tuesday now- more tests. I hate this kind of stuff, I always feel sooooo badly for not only my dad, but more so for my mom. It kills me. When things like illness or accidents or whatever happen, especially to family members something shifts within me, well it doesn't shift but it stops me dead in my tracks, as I assume it does to other people as well. Ever since I was little I could never imagine life without my parents, it's just too weird and I always thought when the day comes I'm not too sure I'll be able to handle it.

Today felt like a prelude to the future and it was a little creepy. Forever is not forever anymore. I talked to my dad a minute ago and he sounded good. He said he had to kick eveyone out of the room for some peace and quiet- and because the Red Sox were on. I asked him if they won and he said yah, but it was a nail biter- they won 5-4. Like I said, realty check in more ways than one. My dad is going to be o.k., my mom is going to be o.k., and I will be o.k. when one of them is not because when it comes right down to it life doesn't stop so neither can I. So Tonight I grill up the shrimp, tomorrow the burgers and then it's back to work on Tuesday. Next week is going to be a good week. Summer is officially here, C.Love launces her web site, she faciltates a workshop at University of Illinois, Chicago on "Pursuing your passion; unleashing the leader within" and my dad heads back to the Cape. Happy Memorial day to everyone and cheers to family.

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…