Wednesday, April 30, 2003
I had asparagus for dinner and we all know what that means...
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
If I were a woman my flaxen hair would always be perfectly combed into the latest style with a barrette or flat clip holding my luxurious bangs away from the porcelain skin of my face. My piercing blue eyes, full of intelligence and understanding, would look out into the world from behind my maddeningly long and lush eyelashes. My full lips would be upturned in a perpetual smile as my model length legs carried my 5' 10" svelte frame down the most fashionable of avenues the world over. My style and grace would be legendary. My clothes, always the latest creations from Milan, Paris and New York. I would wear short white gloves when shopping and impossibly high heels that would accentuate my perfect calves and well turned ankles. Makeup would be unnecessary but if I did chose to wear it, it would be minimal and used only to accentuate the beautiful natural flush of my cheeks and my dizzingly high cheek bones.
Then, once a month, I would sit cramped and pimpled in my sweatsuit, bleeding into a wad of cotton and crying at Honda commercials while I ate bowl after bowl of chocolate ice cream swimming in hot fudge.
Monday, April 28, 2003
Did you ever notice that when you go to the gym there is always one guy who is slightly too skinny, wearing really tight spandex shorts in some awful color like gold, or worse, sheer white. The shorts are invariably stained and his t-shirt is tucked into them. He is leery and slightly balding and of course he doesn't seem to be actually working out. Naturally, this guy is hung like a friggin' horse and the full outline of his dick (running down one leg) and his balls (strangled into an tumor-like lump on the other leg) are completely visible for all to see. He parades around the gym showing off his "stuff" since before you got there until way after you leave.
I just have a couple of questions.
What is the thought process in these guys heads?
What is their intent?
Do they think it is sexy? Attractive? Not nearly as repulsive as it actually is?
What are the stains from?
Where are their asses?
Is it real?
Can someone please explain?
Sunday, April 27, 2003
My blogs have been so tame and boring lately, a true reflection of my current life. I think I should spice it up, but how?!? Hmmm.
Well, you may or may not know that I enjoy stinky armpits. I do. So much so that I don't wear deoderant much. Well, fear not gentle reader, I bathe regularly so you would never know because I don't smell. But when I climb into bed at night there is a nice little funk that I give off that gives me a sense of my own masculinity and reminds me I am a man. I particularly like this kind of funk on other guys. That end of the day or just worked out or came back from a run or forgot to spritz before work kind of aroma. Yum. I'm not talking "unbathed homeless guy who lives under the bridge" stank, just a light musk.
I know you smell what I'm cooking, doncha?
In other news, I got accepted to the NYC Teaching Fellows Program. I am 99.8% sure I will accept. It is going to be a lot of work almost immediately so I will have to buckle down and get to it. I do need to speak to Glenn though to get more details to make sure I am absolutely aware of the whole ball of wax. I'm excited but nervous...that is a great feeling though.
Last thing, for the first time in my life I have poison ivy. It doesn't itch that badly but it is everywhere! Including the exact spot where I hold my who-who to pee! "Is that a chancre??" "No, just poison ivy."
Thursday, April 24, 2003
I was watching Dianne Sawyer's interview of the Dixie Chicks and their recent public persecution for saying something like, Just so you know, we are ashamed that President George Bush is from Texas. (not exact words). Dianne seemed very fascist for trying to make them look like they were in the wrong for saying what they were feeling, even if it was "disrespectful" to the president. It was like watching a senior government media official for the American Reich explain why those types of statements will not be tolerated before carting the offenders away for their public execution.
"You see your mistake now, don't you ladies?"
"Oh, we do Dianne."
"Then you also see how you have put me in the awkward postion of having to execute you."
"Yes, Dianne, we do."
"and you are sorry for upsetting the Fuehrer?"
"We are Dianne."
"Good, it was lovely meeting you ladies. I'm sorry, but you brought this on yourselves." (turning back to Camera) "See the execution live this Sunday at 8 on this station. Back to you Charlie"
I recall many public statements being made about President Clinton that were very disparaging during his presidency. The most disrespectful, of course, is that most of the media outlets referred to him as Bill Clinton, noticably leaving off the title of President. I recall one news show even saying, "President Bush and Bill Clinton..." talking about an event they were both at. It was strange that they didn't use the title "former-President" for George Senior.
At any rate, before the war, George Bush Jr. was dismissing the fact that there were major protests asking him to not go to war. The Dixie Chicks have the rights as Americans to say what is on their minds. At that point in time, I believe that they were embarrassed and meant it no matter how much back-peddling they are forced to do now to save their careers.
Must I remind everyone of the First Amendment of the Constitution?
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
These are our rights. Our fellow citizens established through law that our government cannot take them away. They should therefore keep in mind that they also have no right to deny these rights to their fellow citizens lest they be denied to them as well.
Raking all the leaves
Forming never ending piles
Wishing for more pines
Saturday, April 19, 2003
I have good news. I got a temporary job. I am now officially a seasonal worker...I might even be a seasonal migrant worker if I go to Delaware for the summer. I'll be working at the nursery in the greenhouse from 8 to 4 M-F for roughly 6 weeks. I'll be planting things and moving things around. It doesn't pay much but it pays more than the $0/hour I have been making since January. Woo hoo! Anyway, if I can save some pennies, I'll be very happy. :)
Friday, April 18, 2003
Last night I was a little grumpy. I was watching tv with my dad and there was a Ford Focus commercial where a girl gets a "tattoo" on the small of her back in a kind of tribal style but with a Ford Focus tattoo'd in the middle. It is obviously fake and just playing on the current tattoo fad. My dad said, "I can't believe Ford is condoning tattoo'ing. That's enough to make me boycott them." I looked at him in disbelief. My dad has a tattoo on his arm. It seemed so strange for him to say that. Thus began my inappropriately angry diatribe.
"You would boycott them for something silly like a commercial with a fake tattoo? Why don't you boycott them for something real like the fact that they produce a product that completely destroys the environment. A product that produces emmissions that pollute the air, uses oil and petrochemicals that seep into our water resources and make them unsafe for drinking. A product that funnels billions of dollars away from cleaner forms of transportation so that more roads can be built and repaired so that we can remain the most wasteful and gas guzzling nation on earth. That would be a reason to boycott. Not because of a stupid commercial."
Thursday, April 17, 2003
I'm fully awake now. Dayquil and 5 cups of coffee did the trick. tada.
So, I've never blogged about the war. What do I think about the war? hmmm. I don't. It is an old white man's game. It doesn't matter what I think. They'll do it anyway. It's what they live for. It's who they are. There are guns, and bad guys, and testosterone fueled manuevers in foreign countries. It is heterosexual stupidity to the nth degree. Was it warranted? I don't know but bombing one of the oldest if not the oldest city in the world can't be good. What treasures have been destroyed? Aren't we evolved enough to figure out how to resolve conflict without blowing each other to pieces yet? I'm sure if you were in NYC on September 11th the pictures of Baghdad being bombed sent strangely familiar chills down your back and maybe even brought tears to your eyes. I am not saying Sadam Hussein isn't/wasn't a bad man...but average citizens are dying just because they happen to live somewhere and are in the wrong place at the wrong time. It smacks so strongly of injustice it should leave a stinging sensation on every Americans face for many years. Who said if everyone believed in the philosophy of an eye for an eye, the whole world would be blind?
Albert Einstein said many brilliant things, these are two that I have accepted into my personal belief system...
On the war -
"The problems of the world cannot be solved by the level of thinking that created them."
On the belief that protesting the war is somehow un-American and voicing dissent should be silenced -
"Great Spirits have always encountered violent opposition from medeocre minds."
I was also sickened by a picture I saw of Donald Rumsfeld shaking Saddam Hussein's hand in 1984. Makes you think about the wicked little game these politicians play at our expense.
That is what I think about the war. But more importantly, what do you think of my shoes...?
I just got out of bed about a half an hour ago after perhaps the worst night of not sleeping I have ever had. I have had such terrible insomnia lately it is bizarre. Last night, I passed out on the couch at about 9:30 and had that half-sleep/half-awake "trying to watch the documentary on the sun on PBS" thing going on until 11:30. I got up off the couch and was sure that I would fall into bed and sleep soundly until morning. But, I am a fastideous guy, I can't go to bed without brushing my teeth, flossing, washing my face, peeing etc...so into the bathroom it was. All that bright bathroomness seems to have woken me back up, completely, and so by the time I got into bed it was impossible to fall asleep. I laid there for an hour and decided it was stupid to try anymore, so I got up, went back to the livingroom, turned on the tv and proceeded to watch "Mars Attacks" until 3:30. I don't know how they dragged that movie out to three hours, but they did. TONS of commercials and late night commercials at that. The ones about unsightly hair in the bikini area with full close ups, eldery incontinence and also those heavy days and/or not so fresh feeling female advertisements. The full gamut of human stench and ugliness. I watched them all. At about 3:45 am I made it back to the bedroom. My eyes would not shut until sometime around 5:30. I then tossed and turned until 11 this morning and just stayed there staring out the window until shortly before noon. I feel like shit now, I feel like a slug for being in bed all morning, and I have no energy to do anything with the day. I think I will take some Dayquil for that instant zap of wakefullness. That should help. When in doubt, abuse over the counter drugs, I always say.
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
Today was my kind of day. Not only did my dear friend Scally fix my blog problems from the other side of the Atlantic (I must remember to change my password back), it was a glorious summerlike day AND I think I might have a weekend part-time job at a local nursery (plants not babies) for 8 weeks. I'll know more within a week.
For those of you who don't know, I have a very green thumb and enjoy gardening of every ilk. With spring here, the jonquils, daffodils, tulips, crocuses (croci?), bleeding hearts and hyacinths are all blooming/very close to blooming. Most of the perennials that are found in my parents yard were planted by me. This will be the first spring that I have seen everything in bloom, so, secretly, I am very excited to be here, of course I have to act like I can't wait to leave since I am a grown gay man and need to act disconnected and unimpressed by everything familial. However, the roses, lilacs, rose of sharon bush, irises and so forth have all made a strong comeback after the long winter and I think if I am still here later in the season, I will divide the irises and the peonies since my mom really would like to spread some of those plants around. It is easy for me to understand why I hate the winter. Nary a plant.
Under a stand of trees in the back yard is a pretty large clump of forget-me-nots that my mother planted inadvertantly way back when I was really young. They had been growing in the area that became our swimming pool. They were not doing well and when they began digging for the pool my mother just pulled them up and threw them under these trees (which we called the woods when we were kids, it has been thinned out a lot since then). The next year, and every year since, they have grown back in a comma shaped clump of about 4 feet by 3 feet. Apparently, they like the thick, dark, moist soil out there under the shade of the trees. My hint then is to plant your forget-me-nots in the most woodsy area of your yard, garden or estate. They are the prettiest little flowers when they bloom.
Can you tell I haven't had sex since December?
Oh, and did anyone notice in this month's (May) issue of Martha Stewart Living magazine that she had a potted lady slipper orchid on a coffee table. I'm not sure that you can grow these from seed, and if you don't know, lady slippers are a very rare northeast orchid that are on the endangered species list (at least the severely threatened list). You are not allowed to dig these up or move them in any way. I am wondering how on earth she managed to get one of these in her mag without incurring the wrath of environmentalists and local authorities. Maybe no one knows? Maybe I should be the one to make someone aware. The thing that bothered me most is that she did not mention how rare these are and how they should be left untouched where they are growing. I think that is irresponsible. I can see thousands of preppy, bleached blonde, floral skirted, Izod wearing moms tromping through the woods in their Smith and Hawken brightly colored rubber gardening boots to find, dig up, pot and display these plants for their next meaningless cucumber and watercress sandwich soirees. Scandal. I think Martha's mag needs a little call from me.
Did I just write this? Have I been body snatched? What is up?
Oh, and if I hear one more white, 18 year old, suburban boy call his friend "nigga" at the gym, I am going to kick someone's teeth in. It is not only bizarre to hear, it don't make no kinda sense. Word.
Because scally saved my blog from eternal condemnation to cyberspace, I now have to go and be his houseboy in London. Thank god it's turning into summer there. I hear he makes them wander around naked, save for a paper doily and a feather duster. Still, I'm kinda lookin forwards to it. Those of you who know me, know it's a life long fantasy of mine ;) Anyhow, back on track!
(Just kidding, lads. This is scally- testing Michaels blog - and also testing Michaels patience :)