Viva Las Jersey

yup i'm back in the Garden State this week...again.
it wouldn't be so bad if i actually knew the people with whom i was working. the thing is, they have 1 or 2 people from about 10 different departments out here and it's always a different group.

there is one guy, however that i always seem to get stuck with. i don't know his name and i'm not even sure what he looks like. he sits a couple of rows behind me and every 2 minutes or so, he lets out a roaring throat clearing snarfle. remember the part in My Best Friend's Wedding where, the supposedly 19 year old, Cameron Diaz is in the elevator with Julia the Magnificent and she's imitating Dermot Mulrooney's snoring or in the Odd Couple, when Felix is clearing out his sinuses? that's what it sounds like.

my appetite is sufficiently suppressed. who needs Weight Watchers?

Presenting...In Person...

Erasure!
Debbie Harry!
Cyndi Lauper!

TOGETHER!!! they're calling it the True Colors Tour.
do you know who's hosting?

Margaret FUCKING Cho.

are you moist?

me too.

The Borgata (Atlantic City) June 15th at 7pm! Stephen and i are so there (i called him at 7:30 this morning to get the tickets).

who's else is in?

**UPDATE**

the tickets are bought! of course now i find out (thanks to Ryan Charisma) that there's an NYC show. c'est la vie.

i'm just cukoo for a road trip anyhow!
“Love is the big booming beat which covers up the noise of hate”~ Margaret Cho

To All the Girls

i'm having a thought, lemme know what you think: National Fag Hag Appreciation Day.
yes yes the title does need work, but what are the other euphemisms for Fag Hag? Fruit Fly? Faggot Magnet? hmmm no those don't sound much better. anyway...

these ladies get us. the jokes, the asides, the movie quotes, the song lyrics, and the eyebrow raises. They understand what shits men can be. They’re the shoulders we lean on after our break ups. they're the acid test for our new boy friends. they’re with us at the bars and in the clubs, laughing at the tales of ribaldry and scathing witticisms; basking in the glow of fabulousness. at the mall, they listen with rapt attention and play the home game of What Not to Wear. at countless weddings, bar mitzvahs, christenings, New Years parties, or any other event where a date is mandatory; they’re the girl on your arm, playing the role of “Dream Date” when the situation calls for slipping into a suit and the closet.

She’s the girl your mother would’ve loved to have had as a daughter-in-law. She’s the girl you took to the prom. She knew you when you were fat (or incredibly skinny) and the bigger kids beat you up. she was the 1st person to recognize how fabulous you were or could be. Fag hags come in as many sizes and shapes as there are pebbles on a beach, but they all have one thing in common: they love gay men. love 'em like chocolate. love 'em like Don Imus loves a good racist slur. They’re the backbone of the Gay Community and it’s time they’re recognized for their vital role in our lives.

We already have TV shows, books, songs and movies detailing our relationship with these wonderful women. So, I propose that we all right our congressman and have the 2nd to last Sunday in June (it has to be during Pride month) National Fag Hag Appreciation Day. there'll be flowers, candy, stippers, it'll be fun for the whole "family". Mothers, Fathers, Grandparents all get a day of recognition. why not the girl who probably puts up with alot more of your shit?

so on that 2nd to last sunday, take your fag hag to brunch or to the mall for some shopping. tell her you love her and that you recognize exactly how much she means to you. let her know that you know that you're only as fabulous as she tells you that you are.

"I'd rather die, than satisfy their curiousity/I'm kind of shy and dry, and verging on ugly/They wonder what that I have got, that they have not/They'll never understand that none of that matters/Every boy and man feeling lonely/Can't understand why you'd be with me/Furthermore, we laugh and we draw/More attention everyday, so they say"~ Bet She's Not Your Girlfriend (the Pet Shop Boys)

Pig Droppings

today is Bring Your Daughter to Work Day.
i feel like Carol Burnett in Annie.

"Little cheeks/Little teeth/Everything around me is little/If I wring Little necks/Surely I will get an acquittal "~ Little Girls (Annie)

Regrets, I've Had a Few Pt.1: Hat Head

i have a friend who wears a baseball cap all the time. 365 days a year, inside the house and out. i can count on 1 hand the number of times i've seen him without a hat (despite having lived with him for almost a year). stephen has never see him without one. in fact, we're thinking of asking him wear a top hat for the wedding. knowing him, he'd jump at the chance. hats are his thing. to see him without one would be strange and disconcerting. it would be like seeing me without my cute little nose. hat's are that much a part of my friend's over-all "look".

i, on the other hand, cannot wear hats. not because i don't like them (i do) or because they make my head hot (they don't). the reason i do not wear hats is that i do not have a "hat head".

no matter what kind of hat i put on, be it baseball cap, winter woolie pull-over, fedora, fez, beret or pith helmet, i look like an absolute moron. my ears stick out and my entire head looks large and oddly St. Bernard-like. it's a phenomenon i've always been subject to, and one that irks me to no end.

i like hats. i'd love to be able to throw on a baseball cap and run to the store or the mailbox, instead of worrying how (what's left of) my hair is sticking up like Alfalfa. during harsh weather (winter's cold, spring's rain, summer's blazing sun, fall's leaves) it would be really swell to be able to cover my head and not look like a complete tool.

alas i fear i am doomed to wander the earth with a cold, wet, sun-burned, leaf covered and balding head. i wonder if i could pull off a cheap toupee...

"Oh, piss on your hat"~ a League of Their Own (Geena Davis )

Further Evidence of Good Ole' Christian Values Pt.2

this is the kind of thing that really makes my ass twitch (and not in a good way).
goddman right wing shit heads. i guess fags and dykes don't make families.

do yourself and those you love a favor and cast your vote.

actually don't bother. apparently, the survey is rigged.

"Its obvious you hate me/Though Ive done nothing wrong/Ive never even met you/So what could I have done/I cant understand/What makes a man/Hate another man"~ People Are People (Depeche Mode)

Boyfriends Say the Darndest Things

"Of course she knew [he was gay]! I think the fact that they weren't having sex and he was coming home with 'cock-breath' were very good indicators"~ Stephen on Jim McGreevey's wife

Strange but True (or Reason #752 Why I Love My Friends)

this is the best true story i've ever read in my life.
i almost shit myself laughing when i read it.
i am forwarding it to everyone i know.
thanks Nil.

"About a year ago - I heard this truly terrific, absolutely true storyAnd it just so happens that I told a couple of friends of mine this truly terrific, absolutely true story And it just so happens that these friends of mine are song writersAnd guess what happened, right, truly terrific, absolutely true song"~ Ring Them Bells (Liza Minelli)

Trans-Formation

once upon a time, in a mall not far enough away, i worked with a man named Bob. Bob was (and probably still is) a strangely religious Filipino man, old enough to be my father. on one particularly slow day, Bob walked up to me and proceeded to make small talk for the better part of half an hour. he told me how he had been at a barbecue/party over the weekend and had met a man he thought i'd be interested in meeting; a doctor. well, 1st of all i was amazed that Bob had thought to fix me up with a Doctor, and was even more surprised that he was bringing it up (he didn't like talking about the "gay-thing"). so,i asked him to tell me more about the Doctor and it became clear that this wasn't a fix-up, this was a 3rd party medical consultation. apparently, Bob and the good Doctor had discussed, at length, my sexual reassignment surgery.

flabbergasted doesn't even begin to explain how i felt. he was completely unable to wrap his mind around the concept that "homosexual" and "transsexual" were two completely different things. it took me another half an hour to convince Bob that i was very happy being a guy and that my penis and i were looking forward to a very long and mutually satisfying life together, in search of other penises to play with, thankyouverymuch. since then, i've been asked more than a couple of times if i ever wanted to be a woman and i've had the same conversation with them that i did with Bob. granted, i am fascinated by people who have (or are in them midst) of sexual re-assignment, but it's in a sympathetic way, not a commiserating "i've felt that way too, sister" kinda way. i'm interested in their journey of self-awareness and exploration, since it's one that i've similarly experienced as a gay man.

after my initial knee-jerk reaction of shock dies away, i've been known to think on whether or not i would have ever wanted to be a woman. i mean i'll readily admit that i adore drag queens and would love to be able to pull off drag, but that's a bit different, isn't it? drag queens aren't women nor do they purport to be. Being a drag queens is, in essence, a role which one plays. they're the super-high definition-coked up-technicolor-surround sound-artifice of "Woman" (or Whoa-man). and yes, Virginia, there are drag-queens that are trannies in the middle of transitioning, but i think they're the exception and not the rule.

growing up, i knew i wasn't going to be a virile or powerful man like Starsky, Hutch, Lee Majors, Beau or Luke Duke, so i identified with the strong female characters on TV (ie. Wonder Woman, Charlie's Angels and Bewitched). i think it was because they very unlike their male counterparts; they were able to temper their softness with strength, power and intelligence. i don't remember a non-guy's guy on TV that wasn't a joke or sissy, so the next best thing was a strong woman. even then i knew it was strange, but i did the best with what i had to work with. i never actually wanted to be the women i watched, just be like them: clever and strong without resorting to brute strength and toughness, and occasionally getting to sleep with Tom Selleck.

so, while i definitely never wanted to be a woman, i can certainly understand why one would. i love women. my female friends are wonderful and offer perspectives completely unique based on their own experiences in the world. i think women and gay men share alot more in common then most would care to admit, since we're both trying to navigate and negotiate in a "straight man's" world. we both know a thing or two about office politics, unrequited crushes on oblivious straight men, weight problems, body obsession and eating disorders.

maybe that kinship explains the whole "fag hag" phenomenon...

"Girls can wear jeans/And cut their hair short/Wear shirts and boots'/Cause it's OK to be a boy/But for a boy to look like a girl is degrading'/Cause you think that being a girl is degrading/But secretly you'd love to know what it's like/Wouldn't you/What it feels like for a girl"~ What it Feels Like for a Girl (Madonna)

Happy Friday

so, there i was in the shower this morning and the theme song from St. Elmo's Fire came on. 1st off lemme say i love that song. it's right up there with "Don't You Forget About Me" from the Breakfast Club and "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" from Mannequin in terms of best movie songs ever. anyhoo, it got me thinking (at 5:40am when i'm painfully susceptible to tangential thoughts) what a stupid title St. Elmo's Fire is. then i got to thinking if they ever explain what the title has to do with the movie or what St. Elmo's fire actually is. it's been years since i'd seen the movie, so i couldn't quite remember if they did or not (all i remember is Demi Moore and some middle eastern oil barons, and Mare Wittingham wearing a girdle or something), so when i got to work i promptly Googled for a picture of St. Elmo's Fire and this is what i found:

that explains everything, doesn't it? have a great weekend!

My Latest DVD Obsession...

since we finished both Buffy and Angel series, there's a gaping hole that can only be filled with serious '70's detective "drama", big hair and bigger bell-bottoms. perhaps someone can convince Joss Whedon to ressurect Charlie's Angels...

i remember when i was a kid, my brother and i would fight becaue he wanted to watch the Dukes of Hazard and i wanted to watch Charlie's Angels. ironic that now, i'd much rather watch young, strapping Tom Wopat and John Schneider run around in skin tight jeans and cowboy boots. i always wanted to be Kelly. Jacklyn Smith was gorgeous, sultry and graceful, she also had great hair; elegantly feathered but not over-done like some Angels. i never quite got everyone's fascination with Jill; Farrah was all teeth and hair. i was never Kelly though, i was a too much Sabrina: homely, brainy and swathed in polyester double-knits. poor Kate Jackson. does anyone know whatever happened to her after the Scarecrow & Mrs. King?

.

"Angels are like diamonds. They can't be made, you have to find them. Each one is unique"~ Jaclyn Smith

My Cawfee Guy

Sometimes my "monster" likes to share.

"He was my cream, and I was his coffee -And when you poured us together, it was something"~Josephine Baker

What a Pisser

there's quite a bit they don't tell you, about how your life will change, when you join Weight Watchers. they don't tell you how difficult it is to eat in restaurants, how hard it is not to weigh yourself outside of the meetings, or that you should be prepared to have to go out and buy all new clothes once the pounds start coming off. the #1 most life impacting change (at least for me) is that once you start the program you are "required" to drink between 32 and 48 ounces of water each day. not a bad idea, right? i mean once you overcome your dislike for water (add some lemon! try Crystal Light!), how hard could it be? pretty fucking hard. not the drinking, mind you. drinking is easy; the hard part is having to urinate. every. 15. fucking. minutes.

long car trips, subway rides, movies and remaining on the phone (on hold) for extended periods are a thing of the past. i haven't spent so much time in the men's room since...well...never mind that.

i am thin, gorgeous, and borderline incontinent.

Slippery When Wet

it's been raining since late Saturday night. not, like, normal everyday April Showers kinda rain. no...we're talking monsoon-esque torrential downpour. think Noah.

ordinarily, this wouldn't bother me; i like the rain. i like the dark grey sky and wind. i like the feel of the rain on my face and in (what's left of) my hair. i like the sound of the rain on the windows, roofs etc. i don't even mind driving in the rain; i'm not a bad driver, i can handle it. on Staten Island, people drive 90 mph, on small streets through puddles that come up to your door. i've been trained.

This week, however, i'm back in NJ for work. i'm driving every day on the NJ Turnpike, with people who can't handle the rain. i don't know what it is about people in the Garden State, but rain turns 90% of them into complete and total idiots; they just can't handle it. the minute the 1st drop hits a windshield, traffic slows to a crawl and people completely forget all the rules of the road: windshield wipers without headlights, turn signals, left lane speed limits, etc. it's terrible. i understand exercising caution in inclement weather, but (like everything else about this state) this is ridiculous.

i like this downpour though...it's very alliterative in a German expressionist film sorta way. today's the kind of day when one should be listening to either Dark House music (read: anything mixed by Chris Cox or Peter Rauhofer), 90's alternative rock (read: Live, Pearl Jam, STP) or vocal blues (read: Billie Holliday, Marlene Deitrich)

"Let the rain fall down/And wake my dreams/Let it wash away/My sanity/'Cause I wanna feel the thunder/I wanna scream/Let the rain fall down"~ Come Clean [Chris Cox mix] (Hilary Duff)

Guilty Pleasure CD of the Minute...

Greatest Hits~ the Pointer Sisters

i am just burning doing the Neutron Dance.
Happy Friday, kids!

You GO Harvey!

Harvey Fierstein's OpEd letter to the NY Times. (thanks to MS for sending it to me).
if i could access MySpace at work, i'd so write that man a fan letter...or fan-blog-comment...

Now This Is Newsworthy

thanks to John, who was apparently quite bored at work.

Guilty Pleasure CD of the Minute...

the Dance Album~ Englebert Humperdink (mixed by Thunderpuss)

sure he's a "poor man's Tom Jones", but still...the guy has flair; and Thunderpuss was like chocolate: they could make anything better. as far as "dance" albums go, it's pretty good; not nearly as preposterous as this, but still ridiculous enough to be ashamed of. i'm glad i only bought it for $6.

Buh-Bi

bisexuals annoy me. not all bisexuals, mind you, just the majority of bisexuals. actually, i guess it's the concept of bisexuality that annoys me more than the actual bisexuals, themselves; i'm not sure if it's either a) the ultimate form of sexual un-repression, b) the ultimate form of indecisiveness, or c) just plain greedy.

don't get me wrong, i can totally get how people can find both sexes attractive. honestly, i can find something attractive in almost anyone. to me, almost everyone has a redeeming quality, whether it be a physical or personality trait. there are alot of women that i find gorgeous, sensual, etc. the thing is, i can't imagine sleeping with them. i wanna see them all dressed up in fabulous dresses or gowns, with gorgeous make up, jewelry and hair! i wanna watch them twirl! i think that's the crux of knowing i'm gay: women i wanna see dressed to the nines and guys i wanna see naked.

plus, let's face it, most guys are horny all the time and as a gay man, i'm no exception. the world is one big visual smorgasbord of homosexual fantasy. if you added another 51% of the population to the menu, i think my head would explode.

ok, so i've gotten to the end of this post and i realize: bisexuals don't annoy me so much as they confuse and intrigue me. i'm sure there are perks, like adding the other 51 or 49% of the population to your dating pool, but i still don't see the "attraction". it's hard enough imagining what it's like to wanna sleep with everyone, to me it also means that there are now 50% more people out there to break your heart.

"[after meeting the all-girl band they'll be traveling with] How about that talent, huh? It's like falling into a tub of butter. When I was a kid, Joe, I used to have a dream. I was locked up overnight in a pastry shop, and there was goodies all around. There was jelly rolls, and mocha eclairs, and sponge cake and Boston cream pie...and cherry tarts"~ Some Like It Hot (Jack Lemmon)

Ok, Sure, I Thought the Movie Was Lame, but This is Fabulous

this pic courtesy of Lexxicus. thanks for letting me blatantly steal it.

Star Fucker

Leo: job advancement can wait until you address the core issue; what is it you would really prefer doing; follow your talent!

who'd have thought that this would be coming up again? like i really need the universe pointing out that i'm unappy at work. helen keller could see that.

"You'll do it the way any other self-respecting woman does. Get on your back, point your heels to Jesus, and think of handbags!"~ Karen Walker (Will & Grace)

the Hypocritical Oaf

y'all know how i feel about Dum-Dum. in short, she makes my ass twitch.

well, through the usual office gossip, i found out that her mom has the Big C. i'm not gonna get into specifics, but suffice to say it's pretty bad and the longest they give her is 18 months. now, every time i see her, i ask how her mom is. i listen and nod appropriately, answering the questions she has, etc. i find it very hard to be mean to her, no matter how much she makes me nuts. even when she's being a bitch to me, i just bite my tongue. when she leaves her radio on really loud and walks away, i just grit my teeth and let it go. when she lets her phone ring and ring and ring and ring and ring, i answer it and sweetly take messages for her. i still can't stand her, but i just feel...well...bad.

does this make me a hypocrite?

Hope You Find a Nice Full Basket...

Happy Easter, kids!

eventually, FranGelica did stop crying, but only after her mommy took off the bunny outfit. Stephen's Easter Bread was a big hit.

"Barbra Streisand is not my spiritual advisor"~My mom, at Easter dinner

Interesting Wedding Developments...

so there i am, browsing on line for "gay easter baskets" to show you all ('cause i'm that diligent and work that hard for you, even on holidays), and i googled the term "gay basket". this is what i found:

it has nothing to do with Easter, but it's just the cutest little wedding cake topper i've ever seen! it's from a little bakery supply shoppe in the UK. i e-mailed them to find out if they can make a slightly more specific couple. i mean, neither of us look like these two...

in other news, which one of my gay brethren or sister-en are gonna get hitched at Disney? let me know ASAP, 'cause we are so there!

Mary, Mary, Stout and Hairy...

i'll never be "twink".
i'll never be a "boi".
i'll never be "pretty".

nope, thanks to my Sicilian genes, there's no escaping it: i'm a Bear (or, more accurately, a Cub). ever since i came out (way back when), this was the sub-set of the Community that i was put into. not that i'm really complaining, mind you; it's just that there are certain stereotypes and stigmas attached to being a Cub.

most notably is the predilection for leather. now, don't get me wrong, i like a nice pair of Docs or a Keneth Cole belt as much as the next guy, but there's no way you'll ever see me in SM regalia. i'm more of a jeans and casual button down with a sporty sport coat kinda guy. i'm also really really not into pain. sure i wanna slap people now and again, but i don't wanna cum on their chests afterward. i also have a very low tolerance for experiencing pain. i cry from paper-cuts and stubbed toes. so...nope, not into leather.

however, because of the aforementioned Sicilian genes, i do fit into several of the other stereotypical Bear/Cub stereotypes. though admittedly losing weight at a nice weekly rate, i'm still "stocky". that's just how i am and will always be. also, i am shall we say, hirsute. family legend actually tells that when i was born i looked like a small monkey or werewolf pup. nothing much has changed since then. i started shaving in the 8th grade and had i not gone through an ill-fated love affair with Miss Clairol in college, would probably still have an incredibly thick head of hair atop my head. as for the rest of me, well let's just say i'll have a tryst with Nair for Men before i take my shirt off at the beach.

see the thing is, despite being pretty comfortable with my ursine status in the Community, there are still certain societal mores which i still maintain, and the public display of back hair is #1. i don't mind being chubby, i don't mind showing off my chest hair or nipple ring, but i'll be damned if i'm gonna show up at the beach or pool looking like i'm wearing a black lace shrug. i'm sure other people appreciate the effort, too.

i do, however like guys who are as furry as i am. maybe it's 'cause i feel less self conscious about my own cubiness around them, but i just find a guy with a hairy chest, arms, legs and even shoulders hot. while Chelsea boy muscle queens are undeniably beautiful, they're like taking a vacation at a Buckingham palace: yes it's all beautiful and obviously the Queen makes sure it's well maintained, but it's a bit surreal and stifling in it's opulence. i find that Bears are more like "regular guys"; even if they're a bit queeny, they're still normal. they have reasonable expectations, dress more comfortably and tend to be alot less obsessed with the whole "straight acting*" thing.

so, yeah, i'm a Cub and eventually i'm gonna stop going to Weight Watchers and by the time i hit 40 or so i'll be a Bear. again: not complaining. i'm pretty happy knowing that i've got another Bear waiting for me at home, who seems just as happy with me. Even though bears dont' mate for life, out in the wild, i know quite a few in captivity who have. gosh knows that there's no other bear in the world i'd rather share a den with.

*call me crazy, but in my opinion, as long as you suck dick or take it up the ass, you are not acting "straight".

On "the Children"

i'm never having kids. if i'm lucky, someday in the distant future, i'll get a dog. (for now) nobody cares if we own a dog. nobody has mentioned how having two daddies or mommies affect Yorkies. hell, even single people are allowed to own pets without too much drama. unless they pass a law bringing back child labor or slavery, i'll never have a child.

reason # 1 is that i'm not a fan of kids. a couple of them are cool (Squirt, for instance), but on the whole i think most of them are assholes. the majority of kids are not very bright, and tend to be loud, mean, high strung and incredibly disrespectful (yes, i lump "teenagers" into the same category as 6 year olds). i know it's their parent's fault, but still i'd rather have a Yorkie or a Schnauzer.

reason #2: it seems that the quickest way to get into someones wallet or heart is to flash the face of a kid next to your message. From AIDS charities to White Supremacists, at one point or another every group has pimped "the children" for their cause. it should come as no surprise that when i hear people making plaintive cries on behalf of "the children", i wanna smack someone.

high on the list of those i'd like to Zsa-Zsa are those who toss "the kids" around when speaking of the evils of Gay Marriage. in addition to destroying civilization as we know it, letting us get married will hurt...you guessed it..."the children". apparently if we're allowed to marry, amidst the worldwide Apocalypse, kids will actually have the nerve to dream of growing up and marrying whomever they want and possibly turn out to be more tolerant (and therefore evil/liberal) adults. closer to the present, they'd also be scarred by seeing all those nasty fags and dykes engage in the same mundane gentrification as their parents. also, let's not forget how terrible it would be for all those kids who already have two moms or dad; Cher only knows what emotional damage would be caused if their parents were allowed to tie the knot.

reason # 3 is that i have alot of resentment towards children. in this country, i think we give kids(and parents) too much power. children decide what's acceptable on television, in the movies, on the radio, and in print. it's their "impressionable minds" that cause art exhibits to be labeled "unsuitable" and close "adult book stores". bad parents have the ability to turn a perfectly nice restaurant into a loud, unruly and terribly uncomfortable experience by allowing their children to behave like the monsters they are. how many airplane flights, elevator trips or bus rides were made hours longer by a screaming child? ever have a co-worker bring their child to work? how much work did you really get done?

is it any wonder why i dislike kids so much? who knew that even before they could vote that the little fuckers could hold so much power over society?

"The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame"~ Oscar Wilde

My Heart Bleeds

my company is having another blood drive this week, i've received about 5 e-mails encouraging me to donate; whining about how much the city and "the children" need it (you know how i feel about "the children"). in all honesty, i'd be more than willing to open a vein, but i know that they don't want my blood. they don't want any cocksucker's blood.

apparently, 'cuz i take it up the ass i'm automatically disqualified from donating. never mind that i've only taken it up the ass from one man in 30 years, or that i was tested almost every 6 months during my wayward 20's. my last one was a year after being with Stephen; i knew he wasn't fucking around and i sure as hell wasn't.

nope, they don't want my blood.

unless, i lie and tell them i'm not a fag.
i won't be lying about my HIV status, just how i maintain it.

stop worrying. i'd never do that. i'm not going to give them something they don't want.

I Was a Thespian, but Only In College

once again, the Universe has thrown me a curve ball and in true spastic gay guy fashion i've swung and missed. dispensing with the sports analogy i'll explain:
i got a letter in the mail, on friday, that my alma mater's (St. John's University) theater group (the SJU Stagers' Society) is having a reunion in April, after it's opening night production of Little Shop of Horrors. sadly, we have a Pampered Chef show every weekend in April. more specifically, we have 2 shows every weekend and 1 weekend with 3. yes it's a good thing, as the business has really taken off, but i'm beyond disappointed not to be able to go to the reunion.

see, i've always been a bit of a show queen. g'head, wipe the surprised look off your face, but it's true. i've mentioned before that my mom played music since i was a kid and that by the time i was 8 i knew the entire score to South Pacific and West Side Story. i've also told you that in HS i was on the Speech and Debate/Forensics team, so i had a bit of theatricality in my blood. by the time i got to college, i realized that their Forensics team's schedule wouldn't fit in with my part-time work schedule and that i'd always wanted to try out for a play. i wouldn't dream of doing it in HS, since the one time i stepped foot on a stage was for the freshman talent show, where i was promptly laughed at and booed off for being "the fat kid"; mortified doesn't even begin to describe how i felt.

anyway, i went to the audition and long-story-short, i got the lead in Ayn Rand's Night of January 16th. i had such a good time and got such a high from performing, that i stayed with the group and got the lead in the spring musical, Cole Porter's Anything Goes; i was hooked. by the time i had graduated, i'd been in about 14 shows, plays, musicals, and revues, had directed my own production of Auntie Mame, was VP of the Organization's Executive Board and had received annual grants from the school as well as an award for organizing our 1st ever Student Directed Evening of One Acts. additionally, i made one the best friend i'd ever know, Jenn. from the moment she hobbled into the audition for Anything Goes (on crutches), our freshman year, i knew i had met the most amazing girl in the world. She drove me home from auditions that day and we began a friendship that has spanned well over 10 years.

i made alot of friends over my four years of college, almost all from the Stagers' Society. it's truly amazing how you can bond with people when your theater group doesn't have a theater. we performed all our shows and plays in the gymnasium. the acoustics were atrocious, there was no portable stage, the only audience we ever had was our immediate families but somehow we made it work. i've never had so much fun in my life. i learned to sing (somewhat), dance (sort of), to appreciate drama and to be confidant in my ability and my co-stars. i'll be honest, i miss it terribly.

when i saw that they were having the reunion following the show, it made me so incredibly happy. i was happy that there might be a chance i'd see all the people with whom i spent so many hours. i was happy that someone finally thought to hold a reunion. most importantly, i was happy that the group was still around. i really hope that there's a kid who had a lousy time in HS and is finding it alot easier in college. i hope that he's found a way to break out of his shell by standing in front of the world's hottest and brightest spotlight in that smelly old gym; i hope he's playing Seymour.

i just wish i could be there to see it.

"To me, acting is the most logical way for people’s neuroses to manifest themselves, in this great need we all have to express ourselves"~ James Dean

a Weekend in the Country II: Pink Wigs and Kumquats

we had a fantastic time in CT with MS and Nil! MS's new place is absolutely gorgeous with tons of light and a fantastic open feeling. she has such wonderful ideas for decorating, furnishing and painting. it was alot of fun getting to spend time with her and Nil (who i'm glad came despite her Sig-Oth's fender bender); sometimes all you really need is to hang out with people who've known you forever whilst eating, laughing, drinking and eating s'more (though the drinking did leave me feeling like the cat's ass, come 11pm; MS makes an absolutely deadly Dirty Grey Goose Martini). speaking of food and drink, somehow i was able to stay on Weight Watchers, despite the desserts we brought and the food MS had.

i tried Huevas Rancheros for the 1st time this weekend! MS is a wonderful cook and made breakfast yesterday! this will definitely become part of my culinary repertoire. who'd have thunk that Eggs and Re-fried beans would taste so good? Oooh! and kumquats, MS had kumquats, too! have you ever had one? they're like a cross between lemons and clemantines: sweet and tart all at the same time.
it was just terrific to be out of the city, with the girls. we talked about the wedding, sex, MS's new placeand all the plans she had for it, sex, puppy adoption, sex, and Nil's adventures in the bible belt. i'm really glad we were all able to get together and i'm hoping we can do it again very soon, but with April completely booked with Pampered Chef shows every weekend, it's gonna probably be May before i see either of them again. well, at least there are pictures...