Remember the story about the man who, when out on a social call with his aging mother, was telling a story when Ma dropped her lit cigarette into her purse and Son, without batting an eye, dumped his cup of tea in, shut the purse and continued his narration?
Wonder where the High Five came from?
Or why the provocative Calvin Klein ads (ok, so maybe that one was easy)?
How about this: who was the man responsible for prodding President Reagan into pushing AIDS/HIV prevention and education programs?
Check out Gay For Today, a blog I stumbled across today.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Ungrateful Hookers
*Sir: for being alseep on the day I'm wearing my first-ever matching bra and panties. Boo.
*Dr. Dre: for being in grad school doing an internship in a place that rhymes with tuna. Boo.
*Brandy-You're-A-Fine-Girl: for being paid to drink scads of wine. Boo.
*Sushi: for being delicious. Boo.
*Honda: for making Pilots, which made me cry on the road today thinking of my momma-in-law. Boo.
*Work: for being work. Die.
*Smashbox: for making a mascara that TOTALLY doesn't live up to its promise. Boo.
*Jezlil: for being across the country this weekend when we should be plotting foul deeds with Corona (and Carlos Rossi, my new boyfriend). Boo.
*My brother: for making a baby that I'm going to fall in love with against my will.
Horrible, ungrateful, slutty hookers, all of 'em. Especially my brother. Who does he think he is? Doesn't he know that every kid he has is going to squench itself into my yukky, black heart and spit out chunks of tissue to lodge themselves firmly in my chest? What's worse is that his daughter grows every single day and all that growing hurts. What am I going to do with TWO of those growing in my heart? Fuck. I have to make lists of things to teach the new one that my brother didn't think to teach the older one. Things like how to successfully blackmail Big Sis without sounding stupid.
*Dr. Dre: for being in grad school doing an internship in a place that rhymes with tuna. Boo.
*Brandy-You're-A-Fine-Girl: for being paid to drink scads of wine. Boo.
*Sushi: for being delicious. Boo.
*Honda: for making Pilots, which made me cry on the road today thinking of my momma-in-law. Boo.
*Work: for being work. Die.
*Smashbox: for making a mascara that TOTALLY doesn't live up to its promise. Boo.
*Jezlil: for being across the country this weekend when we should be plotting foul deeds with Corona (and Carlos Rossi, my new boyfriend). Boo.
*My brother: for making a baby that I'm going to fall in love with against my will.
Horrible, ungrateful, slutty hookers, all of 'em. Especially my brother. Who does he think he is? Doesn't he know that every kid he has is going to squench itself into my yukky, black heart and spit out chunks of tissue to lodge themselves firmly in my chest? What's worse is that his daughter grows every single day and all that growing hurts. What am I going to do with TWO of those growing in my heart? Fuck. I have to make lists of things to teach the new one that my brother didn't think to teach the older one. Things like how to successfully blackmail Big Sis without sounding stupid.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Finding God
California has redeemed itself. How could I have doubted loveliness existed in this horrible state? Shame on me; Sir and I have only just found our way home from a trip to Joshua Tree National Park, where we spent the night sleeping in our Forrester and today hiking, me in a bikini or naked, at varying times. Although I grew up in the arid desert of Washington state, I'd never experienced a true high desert and I was anxious to see the Joshua trees.
Before I left work yesterday, my boss told me that one sees God in such a place. I can't speak for others, but while I certainly did not see God, the beauty of the giant boulders juxtaposed against a blue-blue sky with strange little man-trees, arms raised upward, placed here and there and then more and more frequently until you're surrounded by a forest of what's really a very tall lily...how can you experience anything but awe? A mountain of nothing more than rubble from millions of years ago had me trying to imagine the process that took place to set each boulder, one on top of the other. I climbed over enormous rocks and inspected them to find that they were composed of compacted crystals and sand, heated together by the sun and prehistoric upwellings of lava that also shaped them into forms that you just don't see in nature--go, see for yourself--find the Skull Rock.
I couldn't help but think of Edward Abbey's Desert Solitaire, in which he wrote about the Utah desert: (paraphrased) "get out of your car, start walking--nay, crawling--and touch each plant, experience that hot sun, get lost for hours." It frustrated me to see tourists taking pictures from the safety of their air-conditioned vehicles without ever opening the door to get out and start scrambling over rocks and daring to leave the trails. It angered me to see the blatant disrespect for native wildlife as Sir and I picked up trash left by those who HAD gotten out, only to view the solitary wilderness as an opportunity for unhindered partying.
It was beautiful. Go. Be brave enough to explore, even in the heat of the sun...don't be afraid to venture off the paved roads and hike the back-country trails. But please...respect it--take everything out that you brought in, and pick up what others have left behind.
Before I left work yesterday, my boss told me that one sees God in such a place. I can't speak for others, but while I certainly did not see God, the beauty of the giant boulders juxtaposed against a blue-blue sky with strange little man-trees, arms raised upward, placed here and there and then more and more frequently until you're surrounded by a forest of what's really a very tall lily...how can you experience anything but awe? A mountain of nothing more than rubble from millions of years ago had me trying to imagine the process that took place to set each boulder, one on top of the other. I climbed over enormous rocks and inspected them to find that they were composed of compacted crystals and sand, heated together by the sun and prehistoric upwellings of lava that also shaped them into forms that you just don't see in nature--go, see for yourself--find the Skull Rock.
I couldn't help but think of Edward Abbey's Desert Solitaire, in which he wrote about the Utah desert: (paraphrased) "get out of your car, start walking--nay, crawling--and touch each plant, experience that hot sun, get lost for hours." It frustrated me to see tourists taking pictures from the safety of their air-conditioned vehicles without ever opening the door to get out and start scrambling over rocks and daring to leave the trails. It angered me to see the blatant disrespect for native wildlife as Sir and I picked up trash left by those who HAD gotten out, only to view the solitary wilderness as an opportunity for unhindered partying.
It was beautiful. Go. Be brave enough to explore, even in the heat of the sun...don't be afraid to venture off the paved roads and hike the back-country trails. But please...respect it--take everything out that you brought in, and pick up what others have left behind.
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