That's So Gay

Reading Listening is Fundamental

2012-01-06T14:40:00.000-05:00

Before I became an avid knitter, I was an avid reader. My utterly ridiculous commute lends itself to between two and three hours of downtime a day and I’m not the “sit around twiddling his thumbs” kinda fella. I would spend that time reading (or playing my Nintendo DS) and was able to bang out a book or two every week. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly reading the Idiot or Gone with the Wind, I was mostly reading fluffy fiction that didn’t weigh too heavily on my brain (or my bag); ‘escape reading’ I call it. It was a great way to kill the time between work and home, though it still left me antsy and frustrated when the trip took too long. It wasn’t like knitting, where I often hope for a subway delay or traffic so I can work a few more rows; it also taught me the valuable lesson of having a 2nd book in my bag (or, later, queued upon my Kindle) which now has become having a back-up project with me in case I finish what I’m working on. Anyway, I’ve always loved to read and, as much as I love knitting more, I miss it. There are more than a few authors who’ve put out new titles since I stopped reading and I’m sort of anxious to find out what they’re up to. So, how can I get back into reading without sacrificing my coveted knitting time? Audio books.

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I Hate Myself for Loving Ewe

2012-01-04T17:24:00.000-05:00

Like most things in my life I have a love/hate relationship with my yarn stash.

There are some yarns that I love which have totally returned the love by making both great end products and a satisfying knitting experience:

Brown Sheep has fantastic stuff. Their Lanaloft collection is phenomenal and was the 1st yarn I ever fell in love with; it comes in the most ridiculously fantastic colorways, knits up beautifully and frogs like a dream (you’d never know you just knit with it). It’s also a lot of bang for the buck, no matter where you buy it. I’ve used it on fingerless gloves, a sweater for the puppy and even a couple of needle rolls for my ever increasing collection of DPNS. Their Lamb’s Pride collection is also really great and I was able to make the infamous Wallaby and CawfeeMate’s favorite hat out of it. I’m also in the middle of a baby blanket using their Superwash Worsted and have been just as impressed with how well that’s working out.

Then there’s Peace Fleece Worsted. This is my absolute favorite yarn in the universe. Love the colors, love the feel, love the price*. I seriously cannot use enough of this stuff because everything I make with it, I love. Another puppy sweater, a laptop cover for my niece, a hat for both my dad and my father-in-law all worked up gorgeously because of this fantastic yarn. If they would make a sock yarn, in the same awesome colorways, I could die a happy knitter.

On the flip side, there are also 2 yarns which I hate to love**…
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Card Attack

2011-12-16T16:44:00.000-05:00

I used to love getting Christmas cards in the mail. i look forward to seeing what kinds of cards people; religious? secular? funny? serious? modern? classic? i look at them like mail-order art and, as was the tradition in my family, would hang them on a wall to brighten up the living room during the Season. A couple of years ago, at Pier 1, i bought an enormous wire wall hanging in the shape of a Christmas tree, that's made to hold about 50 cards; by New Years the thing barely has room to fit any more and there's usually a small pile underneath from the ones that fall off. Yup, Christmas cards used to make me so very happy. then came...the children.

the cards we used to get contained hand written well-wishing, greetings and signatures; sometimes the envelopes were also handwritten but sometimes they were labels. either way, there was still the personal element involved with the card that said: my friend and/or his/her significant other, took the time to send me a Christmas/holiday card; they really are thinking of us this season! 90% of the cards we receive now, though, are just pictures of my friends' and family's kids; some are studio shots and some are snapshots that have been Walmarted or Zazzled into a card. this card is then stuck in an envelope with an address printed address label on it. no greeting. no signature. not even spit on the self-adhesive stamp. it may as well have come from our plumber or the guy who sold us our car.

now i know some might argue that we're lucky to be receiving cards at all, and that my feelings fly in the face of the spirit of the holiday, when it's the "thought that counts", and to those folks i say: i am so very over these kinds of cards; i'd rather not receive a card from someone, than get one that's just a picture of their kid, because cards with just a photo of a kid on it usually shows no thought at all. i get that you're busy wiping snot and changing pull-ups and driving to tae kwon do or indoor, coed, non-denominational soccer (in addition to your 9 to 5 job); you're busy and i get that. so don't send a "card". you know who wants to get pics of your kids; e-mail them, save the postage and call it a day.

that's not going to happen, though. most, parents don't get the message that their little sun and/or moon is not the center of everyone's universe. they shouldn't be surprised though, that their "card" is somewhere in pile under our card tree, along with other pictures of people's kids...

You (Unfortunately) Can't Spell Christmas Without Christ

2011-12-07T17:03:00.002-05:00

The other day I was ~~goofing off at work~~ on break, checking out Facebook, when I saw a friend’s status update mention that he and his husband were out to eat and he was less than thrilled because a religious Christmas song came on. It got me thinking:

I, myself, am not religious. While I was raised Roman Catholic, and spent about 16 years in the Catholic educational system, I remember reaching a point in that education (around senior year of high school) where I found it all quite distasteful, duplicitous and shameful; owing to having known too many Catholics (both professionally and recreationally) who were just awful, rotten people. Still, I wound up attending a catholic college (for the education) and it’s been more than a decade since I last received Communion or sought penance; since to do either seemed hollow and hypocritical. Nowadays, with all the crap being handed to the gays by right wing religious nuts, I find most organized religions abhorrent and especially bristle when it comes to “Christians”. The “Christians” drive me particularly nuts, since most of them are so ridiculously cult-like, preying on the dimwitted, weak-willed and empty; not to mention the tentacles of evil that have wound their way into politics. Nope, I’m not a fan of religion.

Except when it comes to Christmas. I love Christmas; always have and always will.

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the Clap

2011-11-28T15:32:00.001-05:00

The other day I was on the F train, heading home from work, knitting the 2nd in a pair of socks for the huz, when a woman tapped me on the shoulder to chat. Now, you regular reader(s) of my blog know that this is not uncommon, especially on the train; ~~people~~ women will randomly tap me on the shoulder (on account of my headphones) and tell me one (or all) of the following:

how much they like/love/are impressed by whatever I’m knitting
relay a quick anecdote about their mother/grandmother knitting
how they used to knit when they were a little girl
how interesting/odd/nice it is to see a man knitting

Well, this woman was no exception, she tapped my shoulder on Delancy Street and talked me up ‘til I got up at 34th and hit all 4 topics; insisting that I was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen. Though she used to crochet, she wasn’t very good and couldn’t imagine making a sock with such tiny needles (“especially four of them”)! She was an absolute sweetheart and totally made my day, as random well-wishers tend to. See, that’s the thing: I love having strangers (with whom I’d normally have absolutely no social interaction) randomly telling me how awesome I am; it’s become a bit of a drug.

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High End Moral Dilemma #237

2011-11-22T14:04:00.001-05:00

I go to the same Starbucks, every day, before i go in to work. It's conveniently located up the block from my office and is barely a mentionable detour, on the way from the F train. Granted, it can get ridiculously busy and overcrowded, throughout the day, but it's the only Starbucks within walking distance. Oh and did i mention i'm currently in a battle for Mayor of this particular Starbucks, on Foursquare? i digress. I know all the baristas; most by name, but a couple only by face; and they, in turn, know me and my “drinks”. Most of them know that Monday through Thursday I get a venti bold classic with 3 pumps and Fridays are usually a 5 shot venti skim something or other (initially this was to limit my caffeine and sugar but has, more recently, been to save money). Most of them also know to wait for what kind of 5 shot venti skim beverage i want; sometimes it's a Caramel Latte, sometimes it's a Peppermint Mocha, once in a blue moon it's a White Mocha; lately it's been a Cinnamon Dolce Latte. sorry, another digression...where was it? oh yeah...
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Ho-Ho-Hold UP

2011-11-17T17:17:00.001-05:00

The holidays are right around the corner and I’m totally not having any of it. I’ve been seeing all kinds of Christmas decorations in my travels around 3 of the 5 boroughs, since Halloween. Wasn’t Halloween, like, last Tuesday? “My” Starbucks has had their iconic red cups since November 1st and started serving Christmas Blend this past Monday. It’s all happening way too quickly for me.
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Unwound II: the Response

2011-11-04T09:18:00.000-04:00

received this morning.

I am so sorry that your experience with us was less than satisfactory. I would like to address each of the issues that you highlighted in your email. You may not agree with our standpoint, but we like to keep an open dialog with our customers so we may learn and grow. We strive to provide excellent customer service – most of the time we succeed but occasionally we fall short.

1. Pricing – we do sell our yarns for the suggested retail price. The Manos brand has had two price increases in the last 6 months. We are one of the top retailers for Manos in the US and as such we sell through our stock quickly, so all of our stock was purchased at the new “higher” price. Many other stores do not sell as much of this yarn and do not raise their prices until they have to pay the increased price for new inventory, this makes it look like they sell for less, when in fact they do not. There are other sites on the internet that sell the Manos spaced dyed colors for as much as $19 per skein.

2. Winding fee – you may not agree with this, but it is not a free service that we offer. If a customer purchases here in the shop, we do not wind either, but they may use a ball winder and swift if they would like to wind the yarn themselves. This is a service that takes time and we feel it is appropriate to charge the customers who want the service.

3. Photocopied tags – We do not photocopy tags. Occasionally we rip a tag and will replace this with a handwritten tag. We do have one skein of the color you purchased on our shelf with a handwritten tag. It is a cardboard type tag and was received from our supplier that way. The skeins may have seemed wound different because they are. The Manos yarn is made in different locations and done manually, so each person has their unique way of securing the skeins. We have seen some that were very “odd” and difficult to wind, I have taken several skeins off the shelf to check the weight. The other skeins of this color do weigh about 3.3 – 3.4 ounces. I checked other colors and they weigh 3.3 to 3.7 ounces depending on the color. Again, the reeling of the skeins is a manual process and is not exact (but average). You should have the proper amount of yardage. We have questioned our supplier about weights before and were told the amount of dye in a color can change the weight and the thick and thin part of the yarn can vary, so the yardage should be accurate but the weight may vary. I am sorry you feel you received skeins that were either used or short in their yardage.

You did question if the skeins were returned, I reviewed our history and find that we have not had a return for this color. When we have a return where we question the weight, we pull the skein out of stock and sell it at a reduced price in our seconds bin.

Have a great day.

while i appreciate the reply, i'm afraid it has not changed my opinion of the store.

it's poor customer services to charge a winding fee.
there's no way that the dye can make up for .2 oz in the yarn's weight
i think i know a photocopied piece of paper when i see it

All Wound Up

2011-11-03T16:41:00.002-04:00

There are few things that put marzipan in my pie plate, quite like poor customer service. Now, I’ll be the 1st to admit that, having spent a decade or so in retail servitude, I have pretty high standards when it comes to ~~being serviced~~ shopping. Here’s my latest tale of whoa…

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It Can Get Better

2011-10-25T09:35:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, a friend updated his Facebook status to say:

“I am so sick of all the ‘stop the hate. Together’ and associated ‘it gets better’ bullshit. Enough with the pussification of america. How about ‘sometimes it sucks’ and ‘stick up for youself’ and ‘don’t be a coward’ hate and bullying are a lot older than any of us and cannot be stopped. Teach independence, not cowardice”.

Naturally, I was outraged. A few weeks later, I posted a link to Unicorn Booty’s article on the suicide of Jamie Hubley with the comment “he shoulda just manned up, right” and his response was:

“Well, he did want to be a unicorn. Self cutting? Suicide blogs? Where’s mom and dad? Sad, yes, but necessary, no. I was the only out gay kid in HS and I got out and graduated in 3 years rather than taking a swan dive off a bridge. My point is, there are options other than suicide. Now it seems almost fashionable, which, in my opinion, only increases the level of cowardice of the act”.

again, I was outraged...but a little less so... See, on one hand he’s right. Where were this kid’s parents? Teachers? Didn’t his doctor/pediatrician notice the kid was cutting himself?

That said, I continued with the outrage…

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Knitting Takes Balls

2011-10-06T12:10:00.000-04:00

Last Thursday, I shared a 2 hour car ride to Long Island* with three straight guys; one was a (new) co-worker, the other was his brother-in-law and the 3rd a mutual friend of theirs. Don’t get me wrong, I was mad lucky that the brother-in-law worked close by and offered to pick us up. The two hour car ride, though, was spent with the three of them talking ‘sport’. Now, please don’t misunderstand: I am eternally grateful that I got the ride (and thanked the driver profusely). Had I not been with my co-worker, I’d have been totally screwed; I would’ve had to wait until the trains ran again at 11:30, since I don’t know how else to get to LI from DT Brooklyn. I’m also not complaining that I couldn’t join in the conversation; I was the odd man out. I don’t need to talk and actually am okay with being silent while other people talk around me; I was fine not engaging in the ball related chit-chat.
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an Open Letter to Smokey Josephine

2011-09-21T16:24:00.002-04:00

I’m really glad you took such a fervent interest in my knitting, while on the bus the other day. It was really nice to hear how your grandmother had taught you to knit when you were a girl and that seeing me work on my fingerless glove just took you right back in time; I really love hearing stories like that (and you’d be surprised how often I do have people tap me on the shoulder to chat about my knitting). You might be wondering why I gave you a simple ‘hello’ this morning, when I sat down next to you (in the only available aisle seat). It’s not because I wasn’t feeling chatty (I mean I wasn’t, but that’s just because I’m ridiculously anti-social before 7 am); it’s your breath…it’s awful.

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What're You Sellin'?

2011-09-13T09:51:00.004-04:00

I absolutely love posting pics of my FO’s on Facebook. It’s incredibly gratifying when my FB friends treat everything I post like the most awesome thing they’ve ever seen and pepper the pics with comments dripping in praise; It’s a total ego boost and I fully intend to keep posting as long as they continue to oooh and aaah.
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God Complex

2011-08-31T09:47:00.004-04:00

I’m getting mighty pissed off that ~~natural~~ disasters and atrocities are constantly being blamed on The Gays. It seems we’re responsible for last weekend’s hurricane, last week’s earthquake, the butchered boy a month or so back; hell even 9/11. Everything bad, according to the Crazy Christers (and friends), is their god’s way of telling them that he’s pissed off at us; all this drama is his way of saying that DADT should remain, DOMA is A-OK and that New York is the new Sodom (ok…maybe that last one’s not that far of a stretch).
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I'm Watching You, Watching Me, Watching You

2011-08-26T09:16:00.004-04:00

So blogger has a feature where I can see how many times my blog was visited in a day/week/month or forever. i'm not going to lie; I’m ~~kinda~~ obsessed with it.

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Elsewhere in the Blogverse

2011-08-24T14:55:00.003-04:00

So, Blogger suggests blogs occasionally. On principle, I never look at them because I get really angry that they’ve never picked me (that i know of). I was so incredibly bored, today, that I was looking at what they consider "noteworthy" (it was either that or whip out my knitting, at my desk).
this one had me snickering for 45 minutes; this is one seriously funny chick.

Proud Mary Part I (or Easy Bake Sweater)

2011-08-23T08:42:00.004-04:00

I was lying in bed the other night, feeling incredibly self-satisfied and proud, having just finished sewing up a cable knit MacBook cover I had made for our college bound niece. It was my first real foray into the art of cable knitting on a large scale (having only worked small cables on socks before), and the end result had far exceeded my expectations. Not one to pat myself on the back for long, it occurred to me that “doing a good job”, in this instance, meant that I read the pattern (which someone else had written) and re-created it without fucking it up; in other words: it wasn’t that I did a “great job” knitting, I did a great job following the instructions.

In a situation like this, it seems a little narcissistic to be proud of myself for being able to read. It almost feels like i made a cake using a boxed mix and canned frosting and then congratulated myself because it tasted wonderful. It’s made to taste wonderful; if you’ve followed the directions on the box correctly; it will always taste the same kinda wonderful, every time you make it.
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Tic Toc Tic Toc Tic Toc

2011-08-18T16:13:00.001-04:00

Okay, I’ll admit it: I live by certain sets of rules. I have rules for just about everything: being a straphanger, grammar, workplace etiquette, winter driving; the list of lists of rules goes on for days. These rules (and many more*) have taken me 35 years to craft and have served me well over that time. There’s one rule, though, that I’ve come to think of as a matter of social convention; one that almost everyone ~~must~~ should abide by: punctuality.
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To the Left, to the Right

2011-08-18T10:07:00.000-04:00

there are a couple of new features to the blog, this morning:
1. On the left sidebar, i've added a "Greatest Hits" link; posts i've written that i'm particularly proud of, for one reason or another.
2. on the right sidebar, i've added a "Popular Posts" widget; these are the posts most often clicked on to read, in full.

i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i've enjoyed writing them; and, as always, comments are always welcome to let me know what you think.

Pups and Twinks and Bears, Oh My!

2011-08-17T07:59:00.000-04:00

When I started blogging again I made an unspoken promise to myself and my reader(s) that I’d refrain from posting silly quizzes and things, like the thirteen year old girl I am (on the inside). I wanted to stick with actual posts, in my own voice, about things that I felt like sharing.

That having been said, here is a really cool survey that pertains to Our Gay Community. I’m fascinated on how truly diverse and varied we are, and how we label ourselves and others; I’m also totally intrigued by the labels I’ve never even heard of, like “Muscle Pup” and “Bull”! The graphs generated by this survey are fab because they provide a visual breakdown of the symbiotic nature of the Community and lord knows I loves me any information made visual.
Enjoy, kids!

Confessions of a Yarn Abuser

2011-08-16T17:04:00.001-04:00

The other night, CawfeeMate taught me how to make my very first pom-pom for a hat I had finished. While winding the yarn around the cardboard donuts, he told me to wind it “tightly”. When it came time to snip it off the cardboard, he couldn’t because it had made the cardboard buckle and bend under it. before the second attempt he looked at me and said, “when I say ‘wind it tightly’ I mean ‘old lady/grandma-with-arthritis’ tightly. Not ‘I’m CawfeeGuy and I make yarn cry’ tightly”.
Hello, I’m CawfeeGuy and I’m an abusive knitter. I make yarn cry and snap needles in half.

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on DPNS and Needles

2011-08-09T10:53:00.004-04:00

I’m on project/pattern overload.

1. “Fake it ‘Til You Make It” (a mock Fair Isle hat): I finished the scarf in less than a week now I’m determined to finish a matching-ish hat within the next few days. I say matching-ish only because the scarf is striped while the hat is geometrically patterned, but they’re made with the same two yarns.

2. “Toe Me Up, Toe Me Down” (My 1st Toe-Up socks): I’ve seen a crap load of awesome patterns on Knitty for socks that are made from the toe up (as opposed to from the top down) and finally broke down and signed up for the Yarn Girl’s “Advanced Sock” class, this weekend, with my mom. It’s a whole new concept for me and I’m incredibly intrigued. She’s also going to teach me how to work the socks on two circs (as opposed to 3 or 4 dpns) and using a “french heel” (whatever that means). The class is going to run for the next few weekends so I’m going to be engrossed in making the socks work.

3. “Thoroughly Modern Moshe” (My 1st Yarmulke): my photographer brother-in-law just asked me to knit one for him when he shoots Bar/Bat mitzvahs and other Jewish events. So, browsing through Ravelry, I found the coolest pattern which looks fun and challenging. plus I’ve got so much fun yarn in my stash that would really look great as a yarmulke!

4. “Baby Blanket Bingo” (Baby Blanket): yup, another friend is preggers and since I love her more than my luggage, she deserves a baby blanket for the kid*. I found a really cool pattern that I’m excited to try and ordered some washable wool yarn from the Yarn Girl in an appropriately neutral color that should really make it pop. It may take me her entire pregnancy, but I’m determined.

There’s also a ton of stuff on my Ravelry queue and in the book my mom gave me for my birthday, that're cool and challenging**; which is exactly what I want. I like that i've been progressing slowly and steadily and that every "next thing" I knit has been the next step in ~~the~~ my learning process. That’s why I love this hobby: even when I feel like I’ve got something down, there’s always something new to learn, right around the corner.

now if only i had the time to do them all...

* Blankets are the only thing I’ll make for kids ‘cuz they won’t outgrow them; also, it’s really for the parents anyway
** like this bag that MS and I will, hopefully, knit together like we did with our Wallabys

Wishful Thinking

2011-08-04T13:29:00.004-04:00

I'm a simple and reasonable guy, i think. I really don't want alot in life. If Aladdin's genie gave me three wishes, I'd probably be at a loss for what to do with the third one. In fact, with my birthday having just passed, I found myself wishing for only two things when it came time to blow out my candles: time and money.
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a Bad Romance

2011-07-28T13:28:00.004-04:00

I fear I’m a bad relationship and don’t know how to get out. Worse, I don’t know if I want to get out. No, it’s not CawfeeMate, you boob; the man’s a friggin saint.

It’s my knitting needle dealer.

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R-E-S-P-etc.

2011-07-22T12:54:00.001-04:00

This post probably won’t win me Miss Congeniality; it might actually be cause for the Boy Scouts of America to revoke a few merit badges and the ACLU to cut up my membership card.

I was heading home on the bus the other day and people were getting on, at various stops, along 42nd street. By the time the bus had hit 7th avenue, all the seats were taken, which is nothing new; usually, the bus home is packed, with only one or two empty seats. When the bus hit 8th avenue, the bus driver explicitly told the people waiting that the bus was full and it was SRO. Again, this isn’t uncommon, either; at least once a week, there are people standing in the aisle. Well this particular night, only one person opted to stand. He was a heavy set, older man (late sixties?), clearly as affected by the heat as everyone else. What struck me, though, is that he got on knowing there weren’t any seats available and then looked from passenger to passenger with an expression that I interpreted to mean “ok, which one of you is going to stand so I can sit”? I don’t know why I interpreted it as such, he never said that out loud (at least not that I could hear over my headphones), but that’s what my inner Jean Grey picked up. He just looked so…expectant. i won’t lie and tell you that I leapt up and gave him my seat, because that’s not what happened. I’ll admit, I was very tempted to give him my seat; but I didn’t.

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You Don't Have to Be Crazy to Work Here...

2011-07-22T12:06:00.017-04:00

It seems there are a few things that weren't covered in the new hire orientation or in the employee handbook we need to read and affirm annually:

1. Elevator etiquette: if you see someone running towards the elevator, and there’s room, hold the door for them. We’re all in a hurry to go somewhere, whether it’s home or up to your desk, would it kill you show some courtesy? Oh and when/if they do make it in time and cause the doors to re-open so they can get on, don’t give them attitude/face; you’re the jerk, not them.

2. Speaker of the House: unless you’re in your own office, with a door that closes, speakerphone is incredibly irritating to those around you. how 'bout picking up that receiver, buddy?

3. Potty Mouth: guys, if you’re too pee shy to use a urinal, at least have the decency to lift the seat in the stall. Or, if you can’t wait that long, clean it off afterward, y’filthy animal.

4. Spellbound: outlook has spell check, built-in, let it do its job…please.

5. Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood: your cubicle is not a self contained biosphere sealing you off from your co-workers, other people can see you picking your nose, hear you belching and smell your wretched lunch.

6. Door Jam: ~~ladies~~ bitches, having a door held open for you is a privilege, not a right; try saying “thank you” and reciprocating once in a while

7. Finger Print: Printer etiquette has been a pet peeve of mine, for years; so much so, that it had a list of its own, way back when and then again, a few years later. i still stand behind both posts.
ladies

Sock It To Me

2011-07-21T13:45:00.001-04:00

When I 1st started knitting, CawfeeMate only had one request: he wanted a pair of wool socks. I dismissed the idea out of principle. I had better, more interesting, things that I wanted to make for myself and him! Cawfee Cozies! Hats! Scarves! A Sweater! This is why I learned to knit!

The thing is, he hardly ever gets cold (even in the harshest winter weather) and so he didn’t need or want a hat, gloves, or a scarf (we’re still looking for the right yarn for his Wallaby); all he wanted was socks to wear around the house. I tried to distract him with other things he’d want: a tea cozy, an i-Pod sock and even replacement pads for his headphones. He was quite happy to get them, but wanted to know why his iPod was now being kept cozy and not his feet. Still, I resisted and knit him a lovely green hat that he didn’t want, but loved anyway. "Besides", I told him, “socks are way more advanced knitting than I’m capable of; I just learned how to have the right number of stitches at the end of my project"!

The truth was, I had absolutely no desire to learn to make socks, because they’re socks. They go on your feet, inside a shoe, under your pants; who sees them? Who cares? If it wasn’t for social convention, I’d never wear them. Hell, if I could get away with it, I’d never wear shoes, either. Sadly, that’s not the case. My ridiculously flat feet require arch support and my job kinda demands I keep my toes to myself. But, I digress; back to CawfeeMate.
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People Are People, Right?

2011-07-19T15:39:00.000-04:00

Where is all this hate coming from? I know it’s nothing new and it’s also nothing I haven’t touched upon, on this blog, before, but I’m really at a loss lately. There’s so much about the militant anti-LGBT movement that I just don’t understand; like the rationale of the Nazis and the Klan. My pink liberal brain just can’t quite comprehend what it is that one gets out of limiting the rights, freedoms and happiness of others. I don’t get how anyone can say that “the gays” want to “redefine marriage” when, in all actuality, most of us agree with the current definition: “two people, in a legally binding contract, joined together forever”; just not the interpretation of “two people”. The gays aren’t the ones who want to redefine it to only mean men and women marrying. I don’t understand how our marriage has any affect on anyone else’s life, but mine and my husband.

Quite honestly, I blame religion. The 1st thing you learn in almost all religious education is that only “believers” get into heaven; everyone else is doomed until they see the light. Non-believers are pitied, scorned and in extreme cases fought to the death. In a country built on freedom from religious persecution, you’d think we would be less apt to let religion have a hand in writing our laws. With the vitriol with which right-wing Christians and Catholics criticize Muslims for their hateful zeal, you’d think their anti-LGBT rhetoric would be less focused on cramming their faith and beliefs down the throats of non-believers. Most are so afraid of having any Muslim influence on our political system (read: the Birthers) that they can’t see their devotion to Jesus are just as rabidly fanatical.

It just seems that the entire anti-LGBT faction has gotten completely out of control and has become counter-productive to this country’s basic tenets, and raises more questions about its ethics and purported morals. You’ve got men and women who, despite all the hate and rhetoric directed at them, love their country enough that they’re willing to die to defend it. How can anyone rationalize not giving them the opportunity to defend that country because of who they sleep with? You’ve got millions of people who want to add more stability to the country by “legitimizing” their relationships and creating the standard family unit; how can that destroy it, especially when it's current state is in such horrible disrepair? How can a country founded on the ideals of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness seriously think that creating laws to limit all three, for a large section of the population, be in that country’s best interest? Did we learn nothing from our country’s past when the nation treated African Americans and women of all races as second class citizens?

Sometimes i get really scared about our future. Thinking about Proposition 8 and the recent news on DADT, it seems like the steps we've taken towards freedom and equality can be undone at anytime; that those freedoms and rights are wholly contingent on how many democrats or republicans are sitting where...

Snatch

2011-07-15T15:33:00.000-04:00

I was perusing the message boards of one of the Ravelry groups* I belong to, the other day, when I read a woman’s post about how she was on the 2 train, attempting to master a the purl stitch, when the woman next to her snatched her knitting out of her hands and proceeded to show her how to do it, without so much as a “how do you do”. Furthermore, after her post, there were about three or four other women who wrote that they had experienced similar, if not identical, situations; perfect strangers taking their knitting from them, without warning, and showing them “the right way” to do something!

Reading these stories, I was absolutely livid beyond words (though not so livid that I didn’t comment on their stories in much the same way I’m about to, here). I can’t imagine sitting on the train or bus, minding my own business, and having some random stranger take my knitting out of my hands, for whatever reason. I really think I’d punch someone if they tried to do that; just out of knee-jerk reactionary, gut instinct. you just don't do that in in New York city; that's how a bitch gets cut.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had people talk to me about my knitting while I’m on the bus or on the train** or even just out someplace***; it’s not every day that you see someone knitting in 2011, especially someone with a goatee. The difference is anyone who ever talked to me about my knitting tapped me on the shoulder or excused themselves for “bothering me”; if they wanted to see what I was working on (like the young lady from this morning), they asked to see it and then waited for me to hand it to them. Even the couple of women who offered advice or pointers didn’t try and take my knitting out of my hands.

Maybe it’s because I’m a guy; I don't think a woman would think about taking something (even knitting) out of a guy's hands (even a guy who knits hands); even when the guy looks like me. maybe it's because, with my headphones and body language, I give off a "don't grab my knitting" vibe; I rarely interact with other straphangers. I mean, granted, my Rules for Mass Transit are a bit neurotic and a little over the top, but they work for me. i didn' think that i'd ever need to add "don't grab shit outta other people's hands", that's one we all learned in Kindergarten, no?

* the NYC Bus/Subway Knitters and Crocheters

** There’s this really lovely woman I usually see on the express bus home who was fascinated when I was making my Wallaby, and every time she saw me she’d ask how it was coming along, until I finished it and showed her the pictures I’d posted online; she was equally fascinated by my CawfeeCozies. then there’s the other lady I see in the mornings who, one day, told me that she enjoyed watching me knit on the way into the city every morning; that it reminded her of her grandmother teaching her to knit, when she was a girl.

***just this morning, I was sitting on a bench, outside my office, when a woman walked up to me and told me how great she thought it was to see a man knitting; that her mother had taught her to knit and would be thrilled to see someone knitting on a park bench. She proceeded to tell me how great a job I was doing on the Cabled Laptop cover I was making, walked away, and then came back and asked me to talk to her mom, who was on her cell! They were both incredibly sweet and totally made my day!

Might I Have a Word?

2011-07-12T12:01:00.001-04:00

So, as I mentioned in my previous post, I’ve become sort-of addicted to Words With Friends. I say sort-of, because despite the fact that I have eleven games going, with people from almost every facet of my life*, I think it’s a pretty healthy addiction.

When I was a kid, we had Family Game night, once every few weeks (and after dinner on major holidays). Often it was either Trivial Pursuit or Uno, but every once in a while it’d be Scrabble. Looking back, our games probably weren’t high scoring ones; I think we all wanted to put down a “good” word more than we wanted to maximize our points. I know that, for me, it was all about showing off my vocabulary. Winning was a happy accident and fifteen point words were the norm. It’s only now, almost twenty years later, that I realize that other people (read: everyone else who plays the game) are actually playing to win and the best way to do that is to get the most points for each word they put down. Yeah, I know, this seems elementary, but I never put the two things together until CawfeeMate, Breen Lantern and Magenta Sequins started laying down forty and fifty point words; doubling or tripling my score and beating me by one hundred and fifty points or more. CawfeeMate was nice enough to explain to me that while DJIN is a fun word, unless it’s on a double or triple word multiplier, it’s not worth putting on the board.

So, I learned strategy:

always save your S’s
build off the beginning or end of another word to get double the points
sometimes it’s better to put down a 3 point word on this turn and let your opponent open up the path to the double word or triple letter multiplier
if you have to swap out letters, it’s not worth swapping less than 5 (see #1)
get rid of Qs, Js, Xs and Zs as soon as you can

I also learned how frustrating electronic scrabble is:

QI, JO and XI have to be the most frustrating two letter words on the planet; almost nobody knows what they mean, but everyone uses them to unload those pesky letters that are otherwise impossible to use later in the game.
The “random distribution” of letters is frequently debatable; I just went through a two week drought where, in almost every game I was playing, I never had fewer that either five vowels or five consonants and at least two sets of duped letters
there are no two letter words that start with either the C or V
I have no idea what dictionary the game uses, but I’d love to know how it defines words like JANE, TURFY, and RIAL.
Some people cheat using other iPhone apps; those people never get a rematch.

All in all, though, I’m loving this game. I like being able to chat with people I don’t get to interact with, otherwise; it’s also makes a nice diversion from knitting straight through my daily commute to and from work and from work itself (where i can't knit). It’s also nice to know that even though certain players continue to kick my ass with 75 point words I’ve never seen, I can occasionally beat them (even if it is only one game out of every ten we play).

send me an invite, but be warned: now that i've got a strategy i'm a little harder to beat...until i get stuck with three I's a Q, Z, J & X again...
*High School classmates, former co-workers from my 1st Mall Job, current co-workers, Blog buddies, Facebook Friends, actual friends, and even friends & co-workers of CawfeeMate

My Semi-Annual Post

2011-07-11T16:20:00.002-04:00

Wow. Another six months have gone by since I last blogged. Ain’t that some shit?

So what, you may ask, has happened in those last six months? Quite alot, actually, but here are some of thee highlights…

CawfeeMate finally finished his doctorate in Physical Therapy, making him Dr. CawfeeMate DPT and me a ridiculously proud doctor’s wife. His graduation was marked by a trip to Phoenix, Arizona where I promptly fell in love with another city that is anywhere but New York.
I finally finished my goddamn Wallaby, after about nine months and love how it came out! Somewhere around the six month mark I hit a proverbial snag and was left incredibly discouraged and frustrated. I put it down for about two months and then went back with fresh eyes and fingers (working on quite a few other projects in the interim). Its completion was a catalyst to broaden my repertoire and challenge my abilities within those categories. I now crank out socks, gloves, hats, coffee cup cozies and (my current piece) a laptop cover, in all sorts of stitch and cable patterns. I’ve learned a tremendous amount from The Yarn Girl, Magenta Sequins and YouTube. I’ve also begun to take requests from friends and family and have started making gifts for people other than CawfeeMate.
My other great obsession, which rivals knitting, is Words With Friends on the iPhone. I’ve got eleven games going, at the moment, and usually spend half my commute (and part of the day), trying my best not to have my ass handed to me by the likes of Breen Lantern and Magenta Sequins. Luckily, Bri-the-Pie-Guy doesn't play.
Very recently, I left the department which caused me nothing but heartache and misery for more than two years; choosing staying within the same company. this follows a huge bout of layoffs which pared down my old department to bare bones and had me working 60+ hours a week. So far, it’s been a better move for me, at least inasmuch as I finally get to spend time with CawfeeMate and Rufus. Plus, it’s great knowing that the job which I did now takes three people. I’m really looking forward to all the challenges that have come with the move.

I think I have a couple of more posts in me, which I’ll probably be able to get down in the next few days, so stay tuned…

Park It

2011-01-19T14:57:00.003-05:00

Not too long ago, the huz and I started doing our weekly food shopping at the local Wegman’s (which is hardly local as it is in a completely different state, but still only 15 minutes away) in Perth Amboy, New Jersey. See, to a Staten Islander, Wegman’s is the Disneyworld of supermarkets, with obscenely amazing meat, cheese, and produce sections; their quality in all three greatly eclipse the SI supermarkets. But this post isn’t about better brussel sprouts, fresher organic chicken thighs or fourteen different kinds of gouda; this post is about parking*.

see, I have a really big problem with this sign. Can anyone tell me why parents need specialized parking? Is procreation finally considered a handicap? Are kids finally being seen as crippling external tumors which have been expelled and given animus? or maybe they're life sucking parasitic viruses? I guess it depends on who you ask.

Now, I know the purported rationale is probably…um…er…actually, I can’t even fathom the rationale behind it is. I seriously don’t know why Mom and/or Dad (or Mom and Mom, etc.) would need special parking. I’m straining my brain on this one, but is it so they don’t have to walk with their kid(s) through the parking lot to the minivan (whose doors, trunk and engine open and start remotely)? That’s just nonsense. I mean really though: a good parent would have their kid sitting in the wagon or they’d be keeping an eye on it so that it doesn’t run, tear ass, through the parking lot (or the store); and Maury knows that most of the kids in the US could use the exercise a walk to the mom-mobile would give.

Believe it or not, this isn't about the kids (for once); it's also not a "gay/straight thing". it's about how the store views parents versus the rest of us. Regardless of the rationale behind the “preferred parking”, it’s clearly a complete crock of shit. There is absolutely no, legitimate, reason people with kids can’t park in the 1st available spot they see, just like everyone else; this is tantamount to those people who drive around with handicap placards they faked their way into getting**.Luckily, though, while you can get a ticket for parking in a handicap spot (sans placard), this Parental Parking nonsense is not enforceable. It’s something made up by the store to show their patrons “they care”, about some of them. Parents’ money must be greener and fresher than those of us who don’t have kids. I guess they never heard the expression “disposable income”.

Since this ridiculousness isn’t enforceable, the huz and I have absolutely no problem parking in one of those spots, should they become available while we’re attempting to park. The last time we went shopping some soccer mom decided to mouth off about us parking thereand we put her in her place right quick but stating that it doesn’t state that the child has to be present, or even human; our child was home…in his cage.

She was not amused and blanched suitably.

* and was evoked my Facebook status, today “David wonders what the HRC and other LGBT groups will do when The Gays finally achieve marriage equality (and we will, goddamn it)”. to which Breen Lantern commented “LGBT PARKING”!
** and don’t give me the “not all handicaps can be seen” nonsense, you know who I mean; if you can climb down out of a Hummer, the handicap can’t be that bad.

I'm Not Kidding

2011-01-06T17:01:00.003-05:00

Every so often, the huz and I will meet a new group of people who find us to be something truly unique: a happy, committed gay couple in a long-term relationship. They’ll engage us in conversation about how long we’ve been together and how we met and all the usual stuff a couple gets asked. Inevitably, though, conversation will turn to that topic that is an instant buzz-kill: children. People want to know when CawfeeMate and I will begin our own family and adopt some one eyed, club footed Chinese kid or ADD crack baby; they nearly spit out their drinks when we tell them we’d rather undergo hemorrhoid surgery from a near-sited proctologist with Ectrodactyly.

Let me set the record straight, folks, we don’t want kids. Ever. Not all the gays are like the ones on Brothers & Sisters or Modern Family; We don’t all crave Burberry baby booties or Louis Vuitton diaper bags. Some of us are quite content lavishing our “disposable incomes” on ourselves and each other. Okay, I really can’t speak for CawfeeMate, but (as if you haven’t heard my opinion enough on the topic), here’s how I feel about Daddyhood:

I grew up with the most absolutely amazing parents. They were loving and attentive and there for me whenever I needed them. My dad worked three jobs to put us through catholic school and keep my mom home to tend to the house and still found time to be Scoutmaster, soccer coach, little league coach and do all the other proto-typical dad things a dad should do. My mom cooked like Julia Child, kept house like June Cleaver and swore like Sam Kinison. She was a Den Mother, Sunday School teacher and PTA mom and did without nice clothes, new shoes and even a new coat for years, but never complained. they were both incredibly supportive of anything I did and encouraged me in all my pursuits and interests. They really were the best parents a kid could ever have and I can, honestly, say that I was tremendously lucky to call them “mine”; even as a kid they made me feel lucky without telling me I was. it's only now, years later they told me that the main reason was because, as parents, it was their obligation to us to provide the best possible life they could; that they owed it to us.
That having been said, I do not believe that I could ever, under any circumstance, be that unselfish and giving to any other human being on earth (with the exception of my husband). As much as I love my friends and feel as strongly for them as other people feel about their family, there is still a limit to how giving I would be with them. My parents love was…is…completely limitless. they are the bar i measure all parents by. God forbid I was a parent, I’m confident that I would be forever comparing myself to them and find myself to be a dismal failure; there’s absolutely no way I could do without for the sake of a child who, may, turn out to be just as ungrateful and “entitled” as 90% of the kids I see every day. I’m just not that kind of person.

The wii is mine; no you can’t have a turn.
Saturday mornings are mine; I’m not blowing off my sock making class to take you to violin lessons.
The muscle car is mine; mini-van my ass.
My disposable income is mine; braces? The cannery has good dental, or so I hear.
(most importantly) CawfeeMate is mine; if there’s one thing you learn, as you go through This Gay Life, it’s to be wary of anyone younger and cuter than yourself*; there’s no way in hell I’m letting the wolf in when he knocks.

i give all of you (gay and straight) who decide to become parents, alot of credit for jumping into that with both feet, but it's just not me. I’ll admit it readily and with little shame: I’m a selfish faggot and, yes, i'm judging you by how you raise your kids.

*the puppy doesn't count as he has a brain the size of a ceci pea and no opposable thumbs.

the Other Kind of Knitters (or Neither a Lender Nor a Borrower Be)

2011-01-03T14:46:00.002-05:00

So my regular knitting shop was closed yesterday when I decided I wanted to try this One Hour Scarf idea I’ve been seeing on the bulletin boards and chatrooms on Ravelry. so i go to Michael’s and all they have are size 13’s in plastic (have you ever used plastic? I haven’t and I don’t know how I feel about them…). So, on a whim, I swing by my other knitting store (the Naked Sheep) and she’s open. Score.

Well I tell her my plan (blah blah blah worsted blah blah blah double yarn blah blah) and she’s like WELL you can use a size 11 or 13 (she said they don’t make a 12; who knew?) and it’ll work just as well but she’s all out of 13s. then she says that she knows me and I’m in there enough that she trusts me, and that if I want to borrow her size 13’s she’d be fine with it. she's super sweet and super nice and really great, but this seems kind of inappropriately kind since i'm not there nearly as much as i'm at the Yarn Girl, and to be quite honest, i only shop there when Yarn Girl is closed; that's my knitting "home away from home". I politely decline and she takes me to the size 11’s. it's all good.

Suddenly, this woman who’s sittin there knittin, leaps up outta her chair and tells me I must borrow her size 13 Addi Turbos*. She’s got the ones like my mom, with the interchangeable cable, etc, only they’re the version 2.0 that people like. I’m all, Thanks but no and she refuses to take no for an answer. So I’m starting to get really uncomfortable and she’s still thrusting these needles at me like the mother of an ugly fat girl on prom night, but I’m trying really hard not to be a dick to this woman who’s all “we’re a community of knitters” and “this just means you have to come back and show us what you’re working on”, etc. I know, at this point, I’m blushing like a virgin, but only because I don’t know how to get her to leave me alone without jamming the needle in her neck.

So I stop and I’m like, “Ma’am thanks; I really appreciate it and I’m absolutely, positively touched that you’d loan your needles to a perfect stranger, but I really really can’t accept them. I can’t tell you how wonderful the gesture is, and I know you mean it, but I just can’t”. she has no idea what to say. Really. she's dumbfounded that i won't take her needles. i paid for my needles and got the hell out of there leaving only dust bunnies and yarn balls behind me.

i mean, i get why she was all We Are the World and shit, but it hit a level of creepy i haven't experienced in years. besides: i'm a new yorker; the minute you, a complete stranger, act nice to me, i check my wallet and fight off the crippling feeling of vertigo brought on by instant and incalculable sense of mistrust.

next time i go needles shopping i'm bringing pepper spray.

*these are the Lamborghini of knitting needles, kids.

Color by Numbers

2010-11-15T14:48:00.003-05:00

you know that people don’t, as a matter of course, have green hair?

It’s true. Green hair is “unconventional”; rebellious, even.

Up until recently, I had no idea.

As most (read: both) of you, who read my blog (whenever I update the damn thing) know, I’m color blind. On the off chance this is news to you, I’ll explain it as briefly and as succinctly as possible:

It’s red/green color blindness which also includes brown. It’s not that I don’t see red, green or brown (I’m not a dog, people), I just have a really hard time differentiating between the three when they’re all the same shade*. i’m not sure, exactly, how it works but I think a very large part of it is psychological since I know stop signs and fire engines are red and streetlights are red green and yellow, etc.

it’s other stuff that’s tricky; things like produce, plant life and hair color. These three things are not required to be one color or another. They can, and often are, any color. It’s this “grey area” that throws my brain into a tizzy.

For example, Sundays is the day we do our weekly food shopping at the local Stop & Shop or the not-so-local Wegman’s. If CawfeeMate is tied up with homework, I’ll go alone to Stop & Shop and, invariably, spend an extra twenty minutes in the produce aisle trying to buy apples for his lunch. See, CawfeeMate prefers “Golden Delicious” apples over the other varietals (while I, myself, prefer apples only in pie form). What i have learned since shopping for his apples is that the “golden” in the title refers to the color which the apple aspires to be (if an apple can be said to have any aspirations, at all); the apples start off green and become “golden”. This color change is, apparently, quite evident to those of you born with the typical number of cones in your eyes, thus letting y’all know which ones are, in fact, golden and delicious as their name suggest. To me, however 99.9% of the apples in the Golden Delicious bin look exactly the same with their bruised skin as the only indicator of which ones to toss in my cart. Another fun fact about apples, unlike other fruit or vegetables, you can’t leave them in a bag to ripen; they stay green (or so I’m told).
It seems that, when in doubt, my brain fills in the proverbial blanks. How it chooses the colors is a mystery to me though. I’m pretty sure it goes by what I think I know. From the time we’re little, we’re taught that trees have brown trunks and green leaves so all trees, to me, regardless of the season, have a brown trunk and varying shades of green leaves (I’m guessing that if the leaves turn brown or dark red, I’m seeing these as darker green). Visually speaking, autumn is not quite as fun and fab for CawfeeGuy as it is for the rest of you.

Hair color, though, is my favorite. For a ridiculously long time, I thought CawfeeMate’s goatee was green; I would’ve sworn to it on a stack Cher LP’s. I knew it wasn’t green, that it was either red or some shade of brown, but couldn’t be certain which. My brain defaults to (what I have heard described as) acid green: the same color I recognize as the glow inside a Borg ship, on Star Trek: Voyager. It, like the hair color of thousands of other people I’d met, was kinda fab. It was only when I asked him about it, like a week ago, that I found out it was “strawberry blonde”. This led him to break to me gently that people don’t, usually have green hair, unless it’s a “statement”. This I actually knew, if the truth can be told. Over the last 34 years I’ve seen way too many old ladies with “green” hair. I just never took the time to find out what color it was supposed to be.

This phenomenon still entertains the huz, after 6 years together. He’s often told me that he kinda feels sorry for me that autumn isn’t the explosion of colors for me that it is for him and that Christmas decorations don’t “pop” for me like they do for him. The other day at breakfast he wondered aloud what my experience would be if, suddenly, I could see colors the way other people could. I told him that it would probably be just as dramatic as the 1st time I put on glasses in the 6th grade and everything snapped into focus for the 1st time ever, but that I was quite content not being able to see what everyone else sees.
Sure it’d make shopping for food and clothes easier and it’d be nice to have the Christmas and autumn experiences that y’all have, but I’ve made it through 34 years okay. Just don’t be surprised if, when you’ve just come from the salon, I look at your highlights a little funny.

*FYI: it also means that I have a hard time telling blue and purple, and orange and yellow apart.

the Wonderful Wallaby of Oz

2010-09-08T09:32:00.002-04:00

every step I take with this wallaby, I’m completely blown away with what I’m doing. I didn’t think I’d ever be at this point in under a year; making an actual, wearable sweater.

I thought it would be alot harder (not that I’m complaining) to create something. It’s a total trip to see the pieces taking shape as I’m knitting; like, right now, at the end of my size 8’s I’ve got my right sleeve…or maybe the left…I doesn’t matter, the point is it’s a frickin sleeve, people!
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How to Be a Good Commuter (or How Not to Get the Crap Kicked Out of You By a Fellow Commuter)

2010-08-20T12:57:00.008-04:00

CawfeeGuy's Bubble Theory: think of your "personal space" as a bubble; a very small, very tight and form fitting bubble. you and your actions should not extend beyond your bubble. this includes smells, so go easy on the cologne/perfume or (on the flip side) bathe.

That having been said...

1. One person, one seat: we all pay the same fare, guys and it only entitles you to one seat; there's really no need to spread yourself out like you're trying to fend off a bear attack and i'm sure you're junk isn't so big that you can't close your legs. if it is i'll be glad to help you hold them up. and ladies, there is absolutely positively no reason to bring more than two bags with you to work (and honestly with the size of the bags out there, i can't even begin to fathom why you'd need more than a pocketbook). if you need to bring enough stuff with you to take up two seats, you should probably find another mode of transportation. and don't get cunty when someone asks you to move your shit so they can sit down; you're wrong and you will be read.

2. Cellphones are fucking annoying: once you swipe that Metrocard, it doesn't matter if you're Donald Trump or Martha Stewart, you're just another schmuck riding a bus and nobody gives a flaming shit about your business. more often than not other folks are trying to nap on the way in to the city and decompress on the way home. keep it on vibrate, in your pocket. keep it brief and low; don't be that guy or that girl that everyone stares at with daggers in their eyes as you yammer away for 20 minutes about last night's Jersey Shore or your kooky Korean nail girl. try texting; you can think of it as aerobic exercise.

3. Headphones are for personal use only: nobody should be able to hear what's being piped directly into your head, regardless of how hot the song is (or how hot you think it is).

4. Save it for the beauty shop: ladies, please shut the fuck up. if you need to chit chat and gossip with your Bus BFF that badly, do it quietly. you are not on the View and nobody wants to hear your conversation, for the entire two hour bus ride; you sound like a yard full of chickens. see #2.

5. Procrastinate on your own time: if you know your stop is coming up, don't wait until the absolute last second to get out of your seat and make your way up the aisle. chances are you're not the only person trying to get off the bus; waiting until the bus has already stopped is too late and just blocks the aisle for everyone else (especially when you're in a window seat and have to move another person out of the way to get out of your seat).

6. Dentist seat syndrome: this previous post pretty much sums it up.

7. Mind the kaboose: sometimes we're forced to stand, on the way home; it's a sad fact, but a fact nonetheless. if you're one of the unfortunate souls who has to stand for the entire ride, while all the people sitting can sympathize with your circumstance, they shouldnt be forced to have your ass in their faces. granted, some people don't mind certain people's asses in their face, but still: it's polite to ask prior to expecting a rim job.

8. Metrocard Ettiquite 101: have it ready before you get on the bus, it will really save alot of angry glares, especially when it's raining. have an idea of what your balance on it is versus how much the fare is before you try getting on. it doesn't take MENSA membership to use one, either. if you're at a complete loss, look at the person who got on before you and do the exact same thing.

i know i have pet peeves about the bus, but since i spend about 4 hours of my day on one, i consider myself somewhat of an authority. i'm pretty sure that following these rules will make everyone's day a little better and may save your life one day. see, y'never know when a fellow commuter is gonna snap and strangle you with a circular knitting needle...i'm just sayin...

the Magic Number

2010-08-18T21:05:00.002-04:00

not too long after I started knitting, I found a great pattern i wanted to use to make a Coffee Cup Cozy, but the yarn & needles I had would've yielded a much bigger cozy (think: Super Big Gulp Cozy). now, I'd read that patterns could be altered using ratios and measurement and gauge but had no idea how to do that. naturally, I asked my better half, since he's as fluent in math as the last president was at hate-mongering. it took me ten minutes to explain what i wanted to do, ten to explain what my knitting books were telling me to do and five for him to figure out the ratio of what I had versus what I wanted, and how I could get what I wanted with what I had. oh and another fifteen for him to explain it all to me (during which, I swear-to-god he started talking backwards just to fuck with me). at the end of the entire process I was no closer to understanding how he figured out the answer, but I was convinced my husband was truly a Hot Gay Nerd with Great Magical Powers.

math, I'm convinced, is magic; a strange and potent magic, written in the language of numbers. like any other kind of magic, some people understand and are adept at it and some people are hopeless muggles. I fall into the latter category.

I 'get' simple addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, but when talk turns to ratios and percentages and fractions (specifically their addition, subtraction and multiplication), that's where I will swear that something mystical is taking place.
higher math, like algebra, geometry, calculus and other stuff I barely passed in high school, is even more arcane and mysterious. most algebra problems...with their variables and parenthetical equations... look to me, like the recipe to turn lead into gold; 'sine', 'cosine' and 'tangent' may as well be 'bibbity bobbity boo'. I remember looking at classmates and wondering, "how do you understand this? the teacher isn't speaking English"!

see, I'm not 'stupid', I'm just scared of numbers; as surely as I'm scared of bugs and clowns and bridges. okay...maybe not in exactly the same way. lets just say I severely mistrust numbers in the same way i mistrust the Russians, Log Cabin Republicans and any gay movie netflix swears I'll love.
the thing is, math (like the 1st two), is cold and emotionless; utterly devoid of poetry or true beauty. it's also (paradoxically unlike the 1st two) inherently incapable of lying or falsehood. a mathematical product is what it is, and is subject to no man's interpretation.

I'm a word guy (contrary to what my Words With Friends opponents may tell you). words define how i think and process information; words are how i define my world and experiences. human beings have, over the millennia, crafted millions of words, each as distinct and particular in meaning and intention as a crayon in the super-huge box of Crayolas. with those words, humans can either create the verbal equivalent of stick figures or the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. me? I'm kinda like a Garfield comic. numbers and math have no such subtlety or ability to create.

that's not to say that I think they're useless; quite the opposite, actually. they're great tools for creation. bridges get built on numbers, computers run on them like gas and they're the reason I get paid twice a month; even in my new hobby, knitting, numbers and math are essential. math really is everywhere, all around us, all the time. that doesn't mean I understand it any better. like The Force and other forms of magic it's just waiting for those who can understand it, to tap into its power.

there's a reason the word 'mathematician' sounds an awful lot like 'mad magician'.

Knit Wittery

2010-08-11T11:11:00.036-04:00

I'm sure you remember, back before I'd taken my "blog hiatus", that I was in a desperate search for a way to focus my creative energy; work was slowly sucking the life out of me on a daily basis and blogging just wasn't cutting it. i felt like i spent 90% of my current life being a soulless automaton in an enormous corporate production of It's a Small World and it was incredibly depressing. I needed to make something; put something...anything..."out there".

as some of my readers know, before I was a white collar drone I was a retail queen. retail offered oodles of time for creative pursuits. when worked retail I wrote hundreds of really bad poems and drew, in my spare time. back in college i was an "actor" in the campus' theater group, starring in 3 productions a year four the four years I was
there. in short, I'd never not had a creative outlet or arena of expression.

I'd thought about taking a cake decorating class at the local Michael's or A.C. Moore, but couldn't find one to fit into my schedule. plus, how much cake can you really eat? then I thought about ceramics/pottery, but there's nothing like that on La Isla del Staten; apparently SI housewives don't like mud, who knew? manhattan was out of the question because of the commute. i was completely frustrated. i hated my job, had no time to myself to do the things i wanted to do and was angry because of the overwhelming feelings of suffocation from both.

then one weekend Magenta and Chewie came over and M had a project she was itching to show me. now, she'd been knitting for a couple of years and, while I'd always been really interested in seeing what she was cranking out, it never seemed like a viable hobby for me. I mean really though, how many guys do you know who knit? knitting was for grandmas and creepy, crunchy, cat ladies; it's a woman's hobby. then I had a two pronged media inspired epiphany.

first, I'd just finished reading Joel Derfner's Swish (My Quest to Become the Gayest Person Ever), the first chapter of which was all about being a guy who knitted. I was inspired. I mean, yeah, the whole idea of a guy knitting is stereotypically gay, but jumpin judas priest on a pogo stick, I'm secure enough in my masculinity (as fleeting and negligible as it is) and my gaity to march in parades and walk through the mall holding my husband's hand; why not try knitting? surely i'm that gay.

secondly, we'd just watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy where crazy cancerous Izzy spent the entire episode, in bed, knitting a hideous orange and green ribbed scarf. if Katherine Heigel could do it, so could I!

so, about a week after my initial mishap, armed with two size 10's and YouTube, it clicked. a week later, i had made a scarf! the next thing I knew, I was knitting all the time in my spare time; 'cuz see, my "spare time"' is my commuting time and my hour and a half in between getting home from work and going to bed. so, there I was, on the bus, train, subway platform and bench outside my office before work, knitting and purling like a man possessed!

like Joel Derfner, I learned the lingo, the mechanics and the nuances of "good yarn" and "fast needles". scarves, hats, blankets, needle rolls, tea cozies, coffee cup sleeves, iPod socks and headphone pads all tumbled out of my needles. i felt like rumplestiltskin...only taller. i was creating, again and it felt marvelous.

I've been knitting now for about 8 months and am working on my 1st sweater/hoodie, thanks to a great class at my local yarn shop, led by a truly terrific teacher. it's a continual learning process that, sometimes, makes me want to stick a size 6 in my ear, but I'm loving it. I've found a hobby that works for me and makes me feel great; MS and I bounce ideas and patterns off each other and I've never felt closer to her. i also can't thank her enough for introducing me to this art, which under the right circumstances, could turn into a life long habit/addiction that could, potentially bankrupt me. i mean have you seen the price of a good silk/cashmere blend lately?

Yup, Just Like Madonna

2010-08-10T09:29:00.007-04:00

That’s right, bitches: We* are back.

We’re back and, like a certain gap-toothed-aging popstar, we’ve re-invented ourselves; like the tattoos which CawfeeGuy has adorning his legs, we have risen from the ashes and been rebirthed.

We’re back with a whole new look to the blog** and a whole new attitude about blogging.
Keep Reading »

2010-08-09T09:08:00.000-04:00

2010-01-21T07:22:00.005-05:00

i've got zero time for blog maintenance and, like, three readers. so, 'til i sort my shit out...

a New Leaf

2009-12-28T08:22:00.001-05:00

totally inspired by Julie & Julia, which i finally saw this weekend, i'm making a solemn vow to blog daily. granted, my posts may be in the form of really quick notes or Facebook-esque haiku, but it's better than nothing, right? right. besides, with my iPhone, i can pretty much do anything, and i've got oodles of commuting time, so rather than simply reading other people's self-indulgent prattle, i'll use that time to throw my own out there.

CawfeeGuy's Holiday Chestnuts

2009-12-23T09:13:00.027-05:00

i couldn't let my last post be my last post, so here's something a tad more UP....

as you all may (or may not) know. i fucking love Christmas music. Love it. i start looking for new stuff around Halloween and start playing it (and nothing else) the day after Thanksgiving, until New Year's Day. here's the best of the new stuff i picked up this season (most of which is kinda old, but new to me):

1. Christmas Duel (the Hives and Cyndi Lauper): in truth, i bought this last year, just before new years, but i was so appalled by it that i only listened to it once. it has to be the worst "Christmas song" ever, and i would not want my mom to hear it. this year i realized that it's an absolutely awesome song, though (maybe i've become more jaded over the last year). Cyndi sounds amazing and the whole thing has a very Phil Spector kinda sound, gone horribly horribly wrong.

2. Jingle Bells (Barry Maniilow & Expose): yes, that Expose of the 80's. brilliant swinging "Bing-and-the-Andrews-Sisters" sound.

3. Zat You Santa Claus? (Buster Poindexter): c'mon...he's from Staten Island...how can you not love this cover of the old Louis Armstrong song? it's very Nightmare Before Christmas.

4. All I Want for Christmas is You (the 88): i had seen the 88 when they opened for the b52's this past summer and liked their California pop/rock sound; this single was free on iTunes and i thought "what the hell", thinking it was a cover of Mariah's All I Want for Christmas is You. it's not...but it's definitely worth picking up, as it's catchy and fun.

5. a Christmas Gift from Phil Spector (full album; Various Artists): this is one of the absolute best albums, ever. all the girl groups of the 5o's, that Phil Spector created, are together on this album with covers a crap load of Christmas favorites. Very retro-christmas that takes me back to my childhood and mom would blast the oldies station while we baked. Honestly, there are songs on here that i've always hated in the past (Marshmallow World and the Parade of the Wooden Soldiers) that are infinitely more tolerable because they're sung by the Ronettes.

6. Christmas Tree (Lady Gaga featuring Space Cowboy): thanks to MS for telling me about this song. it's silly and ridiculous and very Lady Gaga.

7. the Christmas of Your Life (full album; Helen Reddy): yup, Helen Reddy has a Christmas Album and it's really really good; cheesy, but good. it's really great "background music".

8. Joseph: Better You, Than Me (the Killers, Neil Tennant & Elton John): not terribly festive, but a really good song, nonetheless, and all about the vaguest person in the nativity.

9. the First Noel (David Archuleta): who the hell is this guy? i got this song and Joy to the World off a free iTunes Christmas sampler (along with a whole lot of middle-America, banjo strumming country nonsense) and it's really good; he's got a very sweet voice.

10. O Come All Ye Faithful/Adeste Fidelis (Amy Grant): i'll admit it, i own Amy's Heart In Motion cd, but ever since i heard she was a crazy Christer i've been kind of leary of her music. this was on the same sampler as #9, though, and i will grudgingly admit that's its really well done. if you can get it free, do it...otherwise i wouldn't spend a dime on her.

11. Christmas Cheer (full album; Connie Francis): absolutely, brilliantly, campy and kitchy and fabulous along the lines of the Doris Day and Ella Fitzgerald Christmas albums. it's faboulous (especially her version of the Twelve Days of Christmas where she sounds like she's from Brooklyn).

12. We Wish You a Merry Christmas (Weezer): really great pop/rock cover from a band i usually don't pay attention to.

13. Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow (Luscious Jackson): see #12

14. Great Big Sleigh (the Killers): my absolute favorite song this season.

15. Rockin Around the Christmas Tree (Miley Cyrus): i know, i know, i know; she's saccharine sweet and disgustingly over exposed, but still...it's a fun song.

i also greatly appreciate any suggestions for "new music"!

Merry, Happy, Jolly, Festive...Whatever, kids!

Sigh

2009-12-21T07:45:00.000-05:00

things at work have been insane, so blogging has really fallen by the way side (in case you hadn't noticed). Hope everyone enjoys their holidays (or their anti-holidays, if that's your thing...i dont' judge).

Sophia Petrillo: Sicily

2009-12-08T19:42:00.001-05:00

special thanks to my best girl, Mrs. Bri-the-Pie-Guy, for posting this on Facebook!

Soup Dumplings, Pink Unicorns and That Guy from Buffy

2009-12-08T08:14:00.004-05:00

what an amazing weekend it was! the brief re-cap:

a couple of days after last weekend's visit, MS asked me to pick up a lovely pink unicorn she had seen in the toy aisle of our local Stop N Shop. it seems she'd found a good home for her. On Saturday, we braved the icy rain/sleet/snow, the SI Ferry and the NYC subway system to bring Frenchie (for that was the unicorn's name) to MS and Dug; but only after we had had some fun with her 1st.

the drop off happened at our favorite NY Chinese restaurant, which is home to the world's best* soup dumplings. this was a double bonus: MS & Dug and soup dumplings.

while waiting for our table, who happened to wander in with a mini-entourage, but Danny Strong (aka Jonathan Levinson from Buffy)! much debating ensued over whether or not to acknowledge the fact that we were in the company of a b-list celeb (with a-list geek-star street cred), 'til our table was ready. on the way to the table, CawfeeMate stopped and told Danny that we "loved his work". To his credit, Danny seemed genuinely happy to be noticed and thanked us.

dinner was great, as always, but we promised Dug that the next time we met up in the city we'd try a different restaurant (since this is the only one we meet at when we're together). luckily there's an app for that...

*in truth their's are the only soup dumplings i've ever had.

Diane Savino: Brooklyn

2009-12-07T21:37:00.001-05:00

this is speech made me cry, it was so good. please watch the entire thing...

Another Disgusting Day in Albany

2009-12-03T08:34:00.002-05:00

i can't even begin to describe how diappointed i am about this.

iCaved

2009-12-01T08:58:00.003-05:00

lookee what i bought yesterday

Knit Wit

2009-11-30T09:17:00.008-05:00

(the odds of this post actually being witty are pretty slim, as it's monday morning, but i was at a loss for an adequate title)

this weekend, MS and Dug dropped by for an afternoon of facetime...which turned into a weekend of facetime which was alot better than just an afternoon. while Dug and i played Lego Batman on the Wii, MS finished knitting a hat for a young lady (and sometimes model) she happens to know. totally inspired by how great the hat was coming out, i told her that i'd been thinking of learning to knit*, and (in true MS fashion) she jumped at the idea of teaching me.

the next morning, over pancakes and coffee, she sat me down on the couch and commenced the Basics of Knitting. She took it slowly and taught me to "cast on", the "knit stitch", "the purl stitch" and "casting off". in about an hour i had two small rectangles of knitted wool and a belly full of ambition. half an hour later, i walked out of A.C, Moore, $20 lighter, but with my very own set of bamboo knitting needles and some lovely blue wool/acrylic yarn. Visions of scarves, hats, sweaters and gloves for my friends and family filled my head! We returned to my house, kissed, hugged and parted ways. the huz and i then went to the supermarket for the weekly shopping. an hour or two later, i finally sat down to turn out my 1st scarf, in a lovely shade of blue.

i sat there staring at the needles and yarn for, like, 20 minutes. i'd completely forgotten how to "cast on". eventually it clicked, and i was golden. for 30 seconds.

I couldn't figure out how to make the 1st knit stitch. rather than stare blankly for another twenty minutes, I went online and found a YouTube tutorial "the knit stitch". that was fine, for an hour, until I wound up with an extra stitch and couldn't figure out how or why or how to undo what I'd been doing without unraveling everything. this time i sat, dumbly, for only ten minutes before realizing that i had no idea how to "unknit" something. the scarf was unraveled.

hit Ctrl+Alt+delete and start over.

the entire process lasted several hours; the remainder of the afternoon, into the late evening: knitting, screwing up, do-over. i was fine. i was a beginner and destined to fuck up, right? right. everything felt like it was going well. i'd gotten about 30 rows down (maybe a 4" square) without the phantom stitch appearing. all my stitches looked straight! it was pretty! so I figured I'd attempt to purl. big mistake.

an hour later, while watching Desperate Housewives, all i had to show for my day's worth of knitting was one row of stitches. all the time i'd spent knitting was completely undone by my vain and hubristic efforts at purling.

defeated, I put the needles and yarn down and had some hummus and chips. i know i'll tame the yarn, but not in one night.

*CawfeeMate and i have been catching up on old episodes of Grey's Anatomy and i was intrigued that crazy, cancer riddled Izzie could crank out a scarf for Dr. Bailey in one day. how hard could it be?

Bleeech Friday

2009-11-27T07:56:00.007-05:00

this is the 1st Black Friday i've worked in about 6 years and, lemme tell you: never again.

my tradition of taking off, the day after Thanksgiving, dates back to my days in retail. See, for those of you who don't know, i was a retail whore for close to ten years. The Staten Island Mall was my stomping ground, and i worked the corner of a Ma & Pop suit store (where i spent nearly 9 years) and Sam Goody, throughout college and beyond. looking back with the rose-colored glasses of nostalgia, smeared with the vaseline of being a corporate/finance drone, i can honestly say that those were good days; the hours were great, the pay was good (well above minimum wage) and i liked the people. Black Friday was the high holy day of retail, which meant a guaranteed open-to-close work day for senior staffers and commission on the sales you made (or those "given" to you by the cashiers). Black Friday set the tone for entire Christmas Season, and its psychotically frenzied atmosphere was a harbinger of the crazy days which lasted till New Year's Eve. it was not at all uncommon for the hours to fly by like minutes, leaving you hungry and thirsty because you'd skipped both breakfast and lunch. it was glorious.

the meaning of Black Friday changed, post-retail. sure i'd haul out the Christmas CD's and start writing out cards, but it also meant i didn't have to work, to make money. joining corporate america meant "paid vacation days" and what better way to use one than to give oneself a 4 day weekend following a bi-annual schlepp to Long Island*? after our 1st Thanksgiving spent on Long Island, i realized that getting home close to midnight and having to get up for work the next day was about as palatable as CawfeeMate's WASP aunt's cooking. There began the tradition of taking off on Black Friday.

Black Friday now took on a new meaning: post-Thanksgiving clean up and Christmas decorating! it was a glorious tradition which went wonderfully smooth, until this year. just like all the previous years, i put my vacation request in on January 2nd and didn't give it a 2nd thought. That is, until K---y, my dimwitted co-worker, came to me in September to let me know she'd be off this week. When i asked her how that was possible, she shrugged and told me that Cunty had granted signed off on her request that day. Apparently, Cunty never put me in for the day; livid does not even begin to explain how i felt.

so, here i am, at work on Black Friday wishing i wasn't. Everybody else in the world seems to be off, but i'm here at my desk (despite the numerous commuting hurdles i had to jump this morning, which got me here half an hour late). it could be worse, though. my office could've had a Door Buster.

*When the huz and i had 1st met, we realized that the holidays would be dicey. Both coming from Italian-American backgrounds, the holidays are a big deal to our mothers; in the interest of fairness, equinimity and to minimize agita, we decided to alternate the holidays: Thanksgiving at Casa Del CawfeeGuyMom, Christmas Eve at Chateau CawfeeMateMom, Christmas Day at Casa Del CawfeeGuyMom, Easter at Chateau CawfeeMateMom; the following year we'd switch (despite my mom swearing we spent all the holidays with my in-laws). on the years we'd spend Thanksgiving with the CawfeeMate family, we'd drive out to Long Island which meant leaving early in the morning and getting home late at night (the drive between LI and SI is nothing but bumper to bumber traffic).

Top 10 Things I'm Thankful For This Year

2009-11-25T07:54:00.019-05:00

1. friends: they're really, honestly, truly like my family and despite the fact that we're all pretty scattered around the country (New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, San Francisco, Florida and Maryland) it's love that makes the distance seem less significant. we may not talk or e-mail or see each other every day, but when we do, it's like we just spoke yesterday. i hope they know that i'd take a bullet for any of them.

2. CawfeeMate: there's nobody, in all the world, who understands me like he does and suffers through my anxieties, tantrums, doldrums and idiocy; i'm so incredibly lucky to have him in my life. there's also nobody, in the world, that i love more than i love him.

3. Rufus: if there's anything better than puppy kisses and the unconditional love that come with them, i don't know what it is...

4. my parents: i know i bitch about them...alot...they're crazy and strange and they make no sense sometimes; they're also incredibly loyal and supportive and loving.

5. Mallomars: what? don't hate.

6. this blog (and its readers): i know i write sporadically (blame the recession), but on the rare occasions i get to post something actually worthwhile (not a quiz or a link to fabulously quirky t-shirts), it feels good. it feels good to have voice "out there" and a soapbox to rant from; it's even nicer knowing that some people are actually listening...

7. blogger friends: just when i think my life is a sit-com, you guys (and girls...and girls who used to be guys...) make me feel totally mainstream and ordinary! seriously though, the blogs i read from all over the world, remind me that we're such a diverse and unique community. you're all brilliant and incredibly sensitive writers.

8. my job: i know i often say i hate it, but in this day and age, any job you can get up in the morning and go to is a good one; especially if you're in the finance industry. besides, i like most of the people i work with; they're good blog fodder.

9. my health: during a recent talk with the huz, it occurred to me that with the exception of that brain tumor a couple of years ago, i'm pretty healthy; i rarely get sick (**knock on wood**) and since i've been exercising and eating better, i feel pretty damn good, much more often than not.

10. i'm queer: shocking, i know, but i really am thankful that i was born this way. aside from these reasons, i'm really so very thankful to be part of the gay community. we're so different, but united by similar experiences and lifestyles. i truly believe that we (ok, most of us) are the last guardians of wit, irony and gothic humor. i also believe that i'm lucky not to have to be saddled with kids (and relieved that they're truly an optional accessory that i am utterly repelled by). being gay in the US, means that we've got so many more options than at any other point in history; we're constantly re-defining our roles in our communities, cities and states. we can get married if we want to...in some parts of the country/world and we can define what those marriages mean. or we can choose not to get hitched. we have the option to be conventional or non-conventional; i think that's pretty damn wonderful and i'm incredibly thankful to be part of this community at this time in history.

happy thanksgiving, all. enjoy your friends and/or families.

"Thanksgiving isn't about blending of two cultures. It's about one culture wiping out another. And then they make animated specials about the part where, with the maize and the big, big belt buckles. They don't show you the next scene, where all the bison die and Squanto takes a musket ball in the stomach"~ Willow (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

If I'm Your Zaan, Would You Be My Jayna?

2009-11-25T07:29:00.000-05:00

seriously though, it almost makes me wish i had a twin sister...or any sister, for that matter...

Card Attack

2009-11-24T08:52:00.006-05:00

last week I bought the annual CawfeeFamily Christmas cards. got 'em at Papyrus*; $45 for two boxes of christmas cards...crazy, i know...but i love 'em to bits. Sunday, while watching Angie Jolie in Changeling (4 star performance BTW), I sat down with my Superman address book and various random return labels from last year, and wrote out all 30. I was about 15 short. no biggie. tomorrow is another day, and i can still get them out by December 1st. So, last night, I go back to the card store** on the way home, drop another $40 on two different box o' cards*** (plus the little envelope seals, because I'm so over licking envelopes that aren't mint flavored) and hop the bus home. through shear providence, I wind up with a double seat all to myself, and after the last stop, the seat next to me was still empty (nobody likes to disturb the guy who reads while listening to an iPod), so I drop the shopping bag on the seat and settle into my book (Lamb, by Christopher Moore, my favorite writer...this week...get it today on Kindle). an hour later, I get off the bus, where CawfeeMate is waiting to drive me home, and head to La Casa Del Cawfee to puppy kisses and din-din.

it's not 'til I'm in the bathroom, taking my "welcome home whiz" that it occurs to me that I've left the shopping bag on the fucking bus.

30 minutes later I've called 311 who's transferred me to the MTA who's hung up on me; called back 311 who transferred me back to the MTA who told me that the dispatcher of the SI depot wasn't answering the phone and that I should call back in an hour. one hour (a bowl of macaroni with peas, and one episode of Grey's Anatomy) later, I'm back on the phone with the MTA trying to track down the number for the SI depot. finally I get someone who has my cards, but absolutely no predisposition for conversation. the guy tells me that I better come in tonight, because if I don't the bag will be sent to the 34th street depot to the Main Lost and Found, in the morning. in true "CawfeeGuy" fashion, I rush off the phone (totally preempting Heroes) without finding out how late the SI lost and found is open. we call on the way and the guy is like "dude we're here all night", all sarcastic and placating-like, so I tell him "oh ok! I'm on my way" and he's all "great" in the most deadpan straight guy voice I've ever heard. I was instantly embarrassed for being that gay guy all upset over his christmas cards.

we**** get to the depot, which is naturally in one of the worst neighborhoods on SI, and work our way around the garage area. the mechanics direct us upstairs to the lost and found which is just a little window in this big huge room with dozens of portable bulletin boards COVERED in papers. it totally brought me back to the days when I visited my dad at the police station house. maybe it was the "municipal building smell", maybe it was the puke green walls, but it was total déjà vu. anyway, after the guy teased me for a few minutes about keeping the cards and sending them out himself, he handed my bag over and wished us a happy holiday.

I could not believe that the cards made it back to me. I'm pleasantly shocked and surprised! the MTA is totally getting a christmas card, this year.

*the bus stop is directly outside of the Papyrus on 42nd and 9th. in fact, I seem to miss at least one bus, whenever I stop to get cards.
** of course I missed a bus while in the store
*** annoying fact: they're having a sale buy 3 get 1 free and without a receipt from last week's purchase I was SOL. the new cards were just as cute as the 1st batch, though, so i almost don't mind.
**** CawfeeMate came with me and I was really glad because, well, i was going to Scaryville, Staten Island and i don't own a bulletproof vest. also, he's much better at talking to straight men-city employees. I come off shrieky and shrill (if you can believe it). if you want to get something done over the phone or in a restaurant, preferably with an angry black or caribbean lady, I'm your girl. if it involves Joey Bag of Metrocards or NYP Dino, call CawfeeMate.

Test Day: My Personal DNA

2009-11-20T07:08:00.001-05:00

this is an oldie but a goodie; thanks to Kevin's Rants for posting his (and thereby giving me something to pilfer).

Advocating Curator

Taking a Stand While Sitting

2009-11-17T07:26:00.003-05:00

thanks to Mark at My Journal of Random Things for posting this. it's good to see a kid with principles; his parents must be proud.

Thanks Dr Brian (You're Better, On a Monday Morning, Than My Caramel Latte`)

2009-11-16T09:56:00.005-05:00

Buffy: Season 8 Motion Comic

Test Day: Book 'Em

2009-11-13T07:39:00.000-05:00

You Are Fantasy / Sci Fi

You have an amazing imagination, and in your mind, all things are possible.

You are open minded, and you find the future exciting. You crave novelty and progress.

Compared to most people, you are quirky and even a bit eccentric. You have some wacky ideas.

And while you may be a bit off the wall, there's no denying how insightful and creative you are.

What Kind of Book Are You?

Blogthings: Quizzes and Tests and Memes, Oh My!

Friday is For Forgiveness, People

2009-11-06T07:50:00.007-05:00

i'm sorry about all the quizzes, but i'm too overworked right now for anything more than this. also, my muse seems to be on some sort of sabbatical, lately, and i find i have terribly little to say (outside of a Facebook status update). maybe she's here, or here or here (they seem to have no problem writing new and interesting things, almost daily).
so, yeah...if you guys happen to see my muse, please tell her i miss her.

Test Day: Fear of Phobias

2009-11-06T07:45:00.001-05:00

You Are 16% Phobic

Wow, you're scared of very little. And you're always conquering new fears that come up.

Have you considered a career as a stunt double? You should at least go on one of those crazy reality shows where you eat bugs!

How Phobic Are You?

the thing is, they just didn't list all my phobias...where are bridges? where are clowns? where are revolving doors?

Test Day: I Must Say, I'm Curious What Dr. K's Result Will Be

2009-11-06T07:43:00.000-05:00

You Are Beef and Broccoli

You are a smart, no nonsense type of person. You are very low maintenance compared to most people.

You are often thinking of everyone else but yourself. You feel the most comfortable when you are putting yourself last.

You tend to order quickly yet carefully from the menu of life. You don't have a lot of time to agonize over decisions.

By doing the best you can in each moment, you've done pretty well in life. People truly respect and admire you.

What Kind of Chinese Food Are You?

Blogthings: A Fine Line Between Insight and Stupidity

Test Day:Your Favorite Fruit

2009-11-06T07:41:00.000-05:00

You Are Pears

You have sophisticated tasted in food, and more than anything, you really like to go for high quality ingredients.

You understand that a perfectly grown and ripened pear is a beautiful thing... and really quite underrated.

You prefer to eat minimally prepared food. You think complexity often just hides poor quality ingredients.

In your mind, there's little better than an expertly poached pear, or pear served with a fine cheese.

What Fall Fruit or Vegetable Are You Most Like?

ironically, i thoroughly dislike pears.

Test Day: Halloweenie

2009-10-30T07:37:00.000-04:00

You Are Spooky

You put the trick in "trick or treat," and you won't stop scaring people until you scare yourself.

You love horror movies, dark spooky nights, and the darker side of Halloween. You save the kids' stuff for the kids.

Speaking of kids, you avoid the little candy grubbing monsters at all costs. Well, unless you are looking to give them a little scare.

You think Halloween has gotten a bit to sugary these days, and you don't mind injecting a little fright into things.

Are You Spooky or Kooky?

Thursday Morning Cop Out Post II

2009-10-29T07:27:00.003-04:00

ach. i'm totally swamped after an almost* depressingly unremarkable four day weekend. i've got 3 or 4 posts in my head but not nearly enough time to get them on paper. sorry kids, maybe tomorrow...
*the highlight was monday's all-too-brief lunch with Mrs Bri-the-Pie-Guy and their bouncing baby boy, which really just served to make me miss her even more than i already do.

Artsy Friday

2009-10-23T08:40:00.006-04:00

So, this is the art that's been gracing my desktop, lately. i totally sweat Alex Ross.

Test Day: Oh Look, Something Shiny!

2009-10-23T08:06:00.000-04:00

Your Attention Span is Medium

Your attention span is just about average.

You may think that you have a short attention span...

But being distracted is something most people struggle with.

The most important thing is that you're aware that your mind wanders.

If you find yourself daydreaming, you can usually snap out of it.

It may be tough to concentrate at times, but you can do it... if you want to!

How's Your Attention Span?

Blogthings: We Have a Quiz for Almost Everything

Test Day: That's SUPER Genius

2009-10-23T08:03:00.000-04:00

You Are 68% Tortured Genius

You are smart. Brilliant in fact. And while it's a blessing, it's also a curse.

Your head is filled with everything - grand ideas, insufferable worries, and a good deal of angst.

Are You a Tortured Genius?

Random Life Lesson #56

2009-10-20T15:24:00.008-04:00

yesterday, while on the way home from work, i heard (between songs on my iPod) an announcement in the subway station telling people not to stick hands or bags between the doors in an attempt to stop them. the announcer was very irate about this and stressed that there was no need to hold the train; there's always another one behind it. this reminded me of my own train door story...

a few years ago, while on the way home from AIDS Walk NY, CawfeeMate and i had planned to take the subway from Central Park, down to the Village (or possibly Chelsea) for dinner and some window shopping. Thankfully, he is one of those New Yorkers that knows where all the trains stop, start and wind up; which are locals, which run express, which have good air conditioning and the best overhead lighting. he guided us to the nearest subway entrance as a train was pulling in. being the complete opposite in every way, i have no idea which trains go where, but my golden retriever-esque brain flashed the urgent message "there's a train" and i bolted to catch it, regardless of whether or not it was "our" train.

as it turns out it wasn't and with one foot in and one foot out, CawfeeMate grabbed me by my backpack before we were separated. in an instant, the doors closed aroudn the ankle of the one foot which was in, which happened to be wearing a leather flip-flop. after several seconds, the doors opened and i was able to extricate myself from the door. sadly, now the flip flop was stuck in the door. this time, though the doors didn't open and i chased after the train and eventually retrieve it.

the entire affair couldn't have taken more than 30 seconds, but provided a lifetime of lessons, not the least important of which is that i never attempt to hold the doors on a departing train and will never wear flip-flops to the AIDS Walk ever again.

Test Day: Flame ON!

2009-10-16T07:37:00.000-04:00

You Are Jean Grey

Although your fate is often unknown, you always seem to survive (even after death).

Your mind is your greatest weapon, literally!

Powers: telepathy and telekinesis, the ability to project thoughts into the mind of others, communication with animals

Which of the X-Men Are You?

But Is It Available In Leopard Print, For MS?

2009-10-15T10:46:00.001-04:00

get it here (or just watch the video)

Top 10 Reasons Why I Don't Like Vacation

2009-10-15T09:04:00.001-04:00

10. my job always seems infinitely more pointless and unfulfilling when i get back

9. people are exponentially less hot the further you get from New York (or any other major city, ie. San Francisco or Chicago)

8. hotels always feel like such a mammoth waste of money. I don't need turndown service or spa tub, but a clean room with a comfortable bed, thick comforter and thirsty towels should be the standard, not luxury.

7. 217 unanswered e-mails and faxes waiting for me when i get back.

6. no matter where we go, it seems like we have to go through New Jersey to get there

5. road signs outside New York look like this:

4. i'm a horrible over-packer and bring at least 3 outfits, 2 pairs of shoes and a jacket i don't need; whatever i forget to pack always winds up being really important (ie. cell phone or iPod charger)

3. chain restaurants and the tourists who love them.

2. i don't get to work out like i should because i feel like it's a waste of valuable time which should be spent maximizing the fun.

1. five days is not nearly enough time to relax. in fact: i usually need another five to recover from attempting to squeeze as much fun as possible (read: clubbing, late nights, etc) into the five days i have off and wind up exhausted.

Phoning It In

2009-10-12T10:50:00.001-04:00

So, yeah, the vacation's almost over and the huz and i are about to leave Mary-land, where we spent three really great days with her and her man, at her wedding. everyone looked fabulous, the day was gorgeous and we had a wonderful time. mozol tov, to you two crazy kids!

for no reason, in particular, i thought i'd post this, which a friend of mine sent me on Facebook. i'm not gonna lie, i laughed so hard i cried the 1st time i saw it. Enjoy!

See You Next Week, Kids!

2009-10-07T15:47:00.000-04:00

i'm on...

Totally Random Thought of the Day

2009-10-06T09:12:00.003-04:00

Green Lantern (not to be confused with Breen Lantern) wears white opera gloves and has a huge, fabulous, ring which makes him "super"...i'm just sayin'...

CawfeeGuy Liked a Thing (So He Put a Ring On It)

2009-10-06T05:53:00.001-04:00

Happy 6 year, 2 Year and 1 year anniversaries, honey.

Test Day: Um...I'm Not Black...I'm SICILIAN...

2009-10-02T20:16:00.001-04:00

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Black Comedy

In your life, things are so twisted that you just have to laugh.

You may end up insane, but you'll have fun on the way to the asylum.

Your best movie matches: Being John Malkovich, The Royal Tenenbaums, American Psycho

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

Blogthings: Waste Time at Work!

Test Day: Tastefully Dynamic

2009-10-02T20:07:00.002-04:00

Better late than never!

Your Taste in Music Says You're Dynamic

Your musical tastes are energetic and rhythmic.

You are full of energy and can be quite talkative.

You are forward thinking and open minded.

You despise conservatism of any sort.

You are intense, detail oriented, and motivated.

You are an ambitious person, though your ambition is anything but conventional.

What Does Your Taste in Music Say About You?

Blogthings: 100's of Fun, Free Quizzes and 3 Stupid Ones

Supersize Me

2009-09-29T16:44:00.004-04:00

i have an incredibly "love/hate" relationship with food; i love to eat, but i hate to gain weight.
i love food; meat, vegetables, bread, cakes, sweets. i come from foodies and my mom and dad raised me to try everything before saying i don't like it. lately i've even begun to re-visit things i hadn't liked in the past, attempting to see if my taste really has changed*.
the problem is, i like food a little too much. over the last 33 years i've lost and gained and lost and gained to an almost ridiculous degree; i'm starting to feel like Kirstie Alley. here are the highlights:

(1999, about a year after graduating college) i was 165 lbs and wearing a size 30 jeans*, thanks to a really hot mexican guy who gave me mono.
(2006) a year before CawfeeMate and i tied the knot i was 210 lbs
(2007) thanks to Weight Watchers, i was down to 172 by the time we got married, on October 6th.
(2008) a year later, i was up to 190 lbs, when we got married (again) on October 11th.
as of this morning, i'm down to 173 lbs.

i can pretty much point to my complete unwillingness to participate in any physical activity as the cause of my ascent to 210. i do not like sports. i do not like to exercise. given the opportunity, i would lie around (be it on the couch or in a hammock), reading and playing videogames all day. actually, that's exactly what i did for six months, in 2003, while i was unemployed and mooching off CawfeeMate; that's where the bulk of my...bulk...came from.

but, in the end, all the rest of the ups and downs all come back to food.

i almost always want to eat, but i know that i can't.

i could snack all day at work; i could drop $5 a day on the lady who sits 3 desks over and sells snack-sized bags of chips and cookies and pretzels and things...but i walk by her every day and only say hello.

at home, i'd gladly indulge in second helpings of whatever we make for dinner***, and then sit down to watch tv with thebag of pita chips and a tub of hummus we got from Costco...but, instead, i measure out one portion of chips (admitedly about 2 cups) and about half a cup of the hummus. and dessert? i could easily down half a pint of Ben & Jerry's Cake Batter ice cream or half a package of Oreos or Mallomars in an evening, instead of stopping after one scoop or 3 cookies.

if i didn't exercise restraint, i'd feel terrible about myself. i'd be racked with good old fashioned catholic flavored guilt about not being able to overcome my basest urges. because that's what it's all about, at the end of the day: being able to lie in bed**** and say "your will-power stopped you from eating today". well that and being able to fit in size 32 pants.

i slipped this morning and indulged in the craving i've had for McDonald's breakfast. There's alot of fat and alot of calories in a bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel, folks, but i had to give in. there was no way i'd be able to make it another day without one. so, as "penance" i skipped lunch and will forgo my after dinner chips and hummus. as i finish writing this (i started about 4 hours ago), i'm unbelievably hungry. Debbie, the chip lady, has one bag of Cinnamon Scooby Snack graham crackers left (only 55 cents!) but i'm going to walk past her, on the way out the door, no matter how tempted i am to slip twice in one day.

i have to will myself not to because each time i do, it's another step closer toward 210...someplace that i refuse to ever see again.

* i have CawfeeMate to thank for this, since his way of cooking and tastes aren't quite the same as mine. he's a brilliant cook, so chances are if he makes it, i'll like it.

** truth to be told, i probably should've been wearing a size 32, but i was 23 and had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of and make change, so why quibble?

*** 99% of the time, whatever we cook is made in a way that the WW gurus would approve of: low fat or no fat cheeses on our pizza, chicken sausage, green vegetables every day, measured portions, little or no oil, nothing fried, etc.
**** maybe this explains why CawfeeMate tells me that i "sleep eat"; that is: make noises like i'm eating and drinking, in my sleep.

Gays of Future Past

2009-09-28T15:19:00.001-04:00

anyone who knows me can probably attest that, when it comes to my looks, i'm not a "blow my own horn" kinda guy; if anything, i've been told (by CawfeeMate) that i have more than a few body dismorphic issues. this is, conservatively speaking, a pretty fair assesment of me. having grown up with a weight problem and other issues, i'm usually very uncomfortable and unhappy with how i look. i seldom believe the odd compliment i may receive, and it's extremely rare when i feel young, handsome and/or thin. yesterday, though, i felt all three at the same time. i owe it all to being in a room of eight older (55+), overweight, unattractive gay men at a brunch hosted by a friend of CawfeeMate. call it "schadenfreude for the vain".

we had been, invited a number of weeks ago by a friend whom CawfeeMate sees almost annually; for argument's sake, i'll refer to this friend as HowOdd*.Anyway, the invitation was for a 1pm brunch in Queens. no other details (ie. guestlist) were included in the e-mail invite and even while driving there we wondered if it would be mutual friends of CawfeeMate and HowOdd, from the hospital they had both worked at (HowOdd had recently retired). When we walked in, i was immediately struck with the knowledge that, for the 1st time in a very long time, i was the youngest person in the room by about 25 years (with CawfeeMate coming a very close second by being only 7 years my senior). Ordinarily, facts like that don't really phase me; like Nicky Arnstein (and a sponge), i can usually fit in almost anywhere. i've always hung out with a slightly older crowd and have been attracted to/enjoyed the company of older men, so i'm fairly comfortable with the salt-and-peppered hair set. this group, though, was another story. Our arrival was met with the cocktail party silence of a group of people, who already know each other, sizing up the newbies. introductions were made and CawfeeMate and i stood together, nursing our Bloody Marys, till brunch was served. during the 15 or 20 minutes between our arrival and the food observed the following:

with the exception of myself and CawfeeMate, everyone assembled was either retired or ten minutes away from retirement.
one man had, perhaps, the worst wig/toupee i have ever seen, bar none in a completely unbelievable shade of red as to suggest Raggedy Andy or Ronald McDonald. within 5 minutes of meeting him it struck me that he was also incredibly pretentious, bordering on obnoxious.
two gentlemen had obvious dye jobs (c'mon mary, nobody's hair is that black after the age of forty. who are you, Anne Miller?)
one couple (there were three) looked like brothers.

after my initial shock/knee-jerk-bitch reaction relaxed and wore off (or perhaps the 2nd Bloody Mary kicked in) we sat around talking and i learned:

one of the guys was a retired figure skater!
this was the pre-Stonewall generation
they'd all, obviously, survived the 80's and the AIDS epidemic.
with the exception of WigMan, they were all exceptionally interesting to talk to, having been "there" and done "that" several decades before i was even a thought.
we're everywhere and have been forever
talk of Shirley Bassey, clubs and drag queens transcends every gay generation

after a while the mood transitioned from uncomfortable to surreal. it was like looking way into the future (like in Spice World or that episode of AbFab) and seeing my friends...in their sixties...sitting around eating bagels, lox and ruggelach remembering the "gay nineties"...

*HowOdd was CawfeeMate's supervisor at a previous job and despite their sigificant age difference (both HowOdd and his boyfriend are in their early sixties), HowOdd's incredibly strange sense of humor and CawfeeMate's change of jobs they remained friendly.

Lighten Up Faggot (or You're a Card)

2009-09-28T09:09:00.002-04:00

saturday, the huz and i went to my favorite godson's 1st birthday party. while standing around and chit chatting with my friends and their family, they asked if we had seen the new ABC sitcom Modern Family, which had premiered Wednesday night. i admitted we hadn't, but that it hadn't looked all that funny to us*. they unanimously proceeded to disagree and tell us that it was that funny, so when we got home from the party we watched it on ABC.com.

very long story short ('cuz this isn't intended to be a review of the show), it really was a great pilot; the preconcieved notions i had** about it were completely dashed and i really enjoyed it. the reason i'm brining it up is because the 1st scene you meet the gay couple, they're on a plane picking up their newly adopted vietnamese baby and are uptight about the flight home; in the face of what appears to be an anti-gay slur. one of the guys gets up an gives "the speech".

i'm sure you know "the speech". we all have "a speech". it's that anti-anti-gay tirade we all have practiced, a thousand times, in our heads; it may a couple of words or a couple of pages worth, but we'd love to deliver to right-wing, conservative shitheads who snicker and laugh and heckle us when we walk through the mall or down the street holding hands or sit too close on the train. "the speech" is reactionary and/or caustic and typically knee-jerk liberal finger wagging. well, friday night i got to deliver a few lines of my "speech" at the Hallmark store in the Staten Island mall.

Non-Pregnant Juno Looking Cashier Girl: did you find everything you were looking for?
CawfeeGuy: no actually i didn't. unless you have a section for "Congratulations on your Domestic Partnership*** or Non-Federally-Recognized Marriage" that i didn't see.
NPJLCG: Um...what?
CG: Never mind.
NPJLC: wait...do you mean, like, gay marriage?
CG: yeah. forget it. Hallmark doesn't make a card for that.
NPJLC: actually we do.
CG: huh?
NPJLC: Follow me.

Hallmark had about 10 or 12 cards, specifically for same-sex weddings (with two tuxes or wedding dresses, rainbows, penguins, etc on them), in their own little section next to the other wedding cards. suffice to say, i left there with a terribly red face, but with blog and cocktail party fodder.

my point in all this, is that the scene in Modern Family was so funny because it was so real. We (the gays), are constantly on guard against "attacks" and "injustice" that, sometimes, we're as hair-trigger-sensitive as a Tom & Jerry mousetrap; seeing it on t.v. (especially after friday night) was just perfect timing (for me) because it really hit home. We need to lighten up, fellas. Sometimes...i'd hazard to say most times... "the speech" is totally warranted and necessary; but there are other times when, comically, it's the complete opposite. during the lattter, we need to be able to step back and laugh at ourselves. truth to be told, i think if we laughed at ourselves more often we'd be alot more...gay.

*in truth, CawfeeMate had called me up on wednesday morning and asked if i had heard of the new "gay sitcom" and i felt compelled to correct him that it was just "a sitcom with gays" and not the next Will & Grace after having seen an ad on the subway.
** that the gay couple would just be 2 dimensional punchlines for tired old jokes about 2 fags and a baby
*** two our friends, Chris and Patrick, went down to Staten Island Borough Hall, on Friday, and got...domestically partnered...which totally deserved a card.

Test Day: Caution Do Not Mix With Coke!

2009-09-25T07:47:00.000-04:00

You Are Pop Rock

You are a happy, optimistic person. You find a lot of joy in life.

You like music that's easy to sing along to, dance to, or listen to.

You tend to like things that are modern and trendy. You're not a snob, and to be honest, you can't stand snobbery of any kind.

You like songs that are catchy. Your favorite songs stick in your head for years.

What Kind of Rock Are You?

Blogthings: We Have a Quiz for Almost Everything

Test Day: Back Then I Was CawfeeBoy

2009-09-25T07:44:00.000-04:00

You Are 76% A Child of the 80s

Not only did you experience the 80s... you are practically an expert.

You should be totally stoked!

Are You a Child of an 80s?

Mallomarvelous

2009-09-24T08:00:00.025-04:00

It's fall! Do you know what that means? Mallomar season is upon us!
it seems the magical cookie elves (no, not the Keebler elves...different elves...migrant elves...possibly Mexican or South American) have harvested, boxed and shipped the delightful little chocolate covered parcels of joy to our local supermarkets.
did you not know they were seasonal? me neither, 'til about 2 years ago when CawfeeMate and i went into King Kullen looking for a box to satisfy my genetically predisposed addiction* to them and the manager told me that they weren't "in season" and then suggested the (apparently hot house grown) Pinwheels** or Whippets, instead. But, to paraphrase My Cousing Vinny, no self-respecting Mallomar fan would ever settle for a Pinwheel or a Whippet. It's like Oreos vs Hydrox, Boar's Head vs Oscar Meyer bologna, or Kylie vs Dannii Minogue; a pale imitation of true quality which rarely satisfies.
anyway, relish these fall and winter months, my friends, and indulge.if you've never tried a Mallomar, i suggest picking up a box and savoring the just-picked and always fresh taste. afterward, i'll meet you at Costco to stock up for the off-season.

*my dad is a Mallomars fiend and has been known to (happily) receive boxes of them for Christmas and his birthday, which luckily fall during prime Mallomars season. Strangely, neither my mom, nor my husband understand the allure...
** which are so not Mallomars that i can't even find a good link for you

Oh, and if you like the picture, up top, you can get it on a shirt here

"Get 'Em at Gimbel's"~ Auntie Mame

2009-09-21T08:01:00.002-04:00

the place: Sears, the Staten Island Mall
the time: around 1pm, Sunday after a late night of Chocolate Martinis from Bay Ridge straight bars (which is another story, to be sure)

CawfeeGuy (to a sixty-plus frail woman bearing a striking resmblence to Juno from Beetlejuice): excuse me, do you work in the men's section?
Juno: yes?
CG: great! i'm looking for a pair of khakis, in navy, flat front, in size 34 x 34.
J: there's nobody on the floor.
CG:..only you...?
J: did you look in the section?
CG: yes...this place looks like it was hit by a hurricane; your customers have teared the section to shreds.
J: oh. you need to find someone on the floor.
CG: you are on the floor; can you help me find them?
J: oh...i'm not on the floor; i'm on register.
CG: noooooooo. you're standing here, on the floor, talking to me; there are no other sales people in this godforsaken place.
J: ...and you looked in the section?
CG: Fuck this; i'm going to Macy's! at least there i know not to expect any help.

Random (Drunken)Thought of the Day...Night...Whatever.

2009-09-20T02:23:00.003-04:00

White Castle needs to add quiche lorraine to their "late night drunken bastard" menu. seriously. it's heaven.

thanks to MS for filling that void.

Fun Guy

2009-09-18T15:13:00.003-04:00

Picture it:

a Chinese restaurant in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. CawfeeGuy and CawfeeMate are having dinner with CawfeeMate's extended family to celebrate Nana's 200th* birthday. CG and CM are off to the side at the "kids table" populated, mostly, by CM's cousins, whose ages range between 21 and 32, and their spouses and their kids. CG is sitting next to the 25 year old, married since April, stunning, 5' tall wife of CM's 26 year old 6'11", built-like-a-brick-shithouse NYPD cop cousin; they've been chatting aimiably for some time till...

Stunning Brooklyn Bride (holding up a straw mushroom): wow this mushroom looks like...hee hee

CawfeeGuy: a penis?
SBB: yeah! it's a perfect penis!
CG: um...it's not exactly perfect.
SBB: why?
CG: 'perfect' is alot bigger, sweetie.
SBB (guffaws):ohmygawd you're right! imagine if i really thought it was perfect? that wouldn't say alot for him (pointing to her husband).

*actually i think it was her 96th, but after #90 who can really keep track?

Test Day: Yeah...That's Right...I'm Truly Outrageous

2009-09-18T10:55:00.001-04:00

Your Gemstone is Amethyst

Dignified, impressive, and wise.

You have a deeply spiritual soul

What Gemstone Are You?

Test Day: Dusk-a-Roo

2009-09-18T08:11:00.000-04:00

You Are Dusk

You are a naturally idealistic and creative person. You look forward to nights where everything is possible.

You spend most of your energy on play. Work is okay, but the true you emerges after the work day is done.

You're an offbeat type that doesn't like rules or schedules. Life's too short to waste at a desk in a cube.

Whether you spend your night socializing or working on side projects, you like that your time is yours.

Are You Dusk or Dawn?

Top 10 Reasons (You'll Never Read Anywhere Else) Why You Should Be Glad to Be Gay

2009-09-17T08:26:00.008-04:00

1. we've got Ellen

2. you’ll never get rip roaring drunk and wake up to find you’ve accidentally adopted a crack baby

3. straight people assume you’re having more fun and better sex than they are (and you usually are)

4. cruising areas

5. gay clubs never have a dress code

6. meeting someone you’re interested in, who has the same 1st name as you, is infinitely less creepy and disturbing

7. gay porn stars are way hotter

8. gay bars never have brawls (unless there are lesbians there)

9. Double the gender means double the wardrobe!

10. your friends will never let you leave the house with bad eyebrows.

IMHO Revisited & Re-Posted

2009-09-11T08:46:00.000-04:00

Read last year's post here. My feelings haven't changed.

Test Day: Guess Who Woke Up Hungry This Morning?

2009-09-11T07:56:00.001-04:00

You Are a Chocolate Cupcake

You are deep, richly interesting, and at times overpowering. You have a strong personality.

You are drawn to people who adore you. You love it when your specialness is recognized.

You are like a cupcake because it's hard for people to get enough of you.

You have a mysterious charm that makes you incredibly addicting. People are drawn to your drama.

What Flavor Cupcake Are You?

Blogthings: Take a Quiz. Annoy Your Friends.

Test Day: CG & J

2009-09-11T07:53:00.000-04:00

Your PB and J Says You're Demure and Dainty

Your eating style is reserved. You are a bit of a fussy eater, and you have very specific ways you like your food prepared.

You don't really have a sweet tooth. If you go for dessert, you tend to go for something light.

Your taste in food tends to be quite eclectic and wide. You are an adventurous eater, and you like many types of cuisines.

You are probably a fairly normal, upper middle class person. You don't rock the boat too often.

You are a tough person who isn't afraid to live life fully. There isn't a lot that scares you.

You are laid back and extremely easygoing. You never make a fuss, and you try to enjoy every moment.

What Does Your Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich Say About You?

Blogthings: Discover the Parts of Your Personality that Have Been Hiding

Let It Be (Anything But the Fucking Beatles)

2009-09-10T10:36:00.013-04:00

every morning, for the last several weeks, i've been getting my coffee and sitting on a bench outside my office, reading my Kindle (currently i'm making my way through Richard Stevenson's Donald Strachey Mysteries series). i usually sit out there from 7:15 till about 7:45 or 8am depending on how engrossed i am in my book. This morning though, i got to Jay Street-Borough Hall and it was just a bit more brisk than usual, so i figured i'd grab a latte at the Starbucks downstairs and sit at one of their tables; something i've never done. Knowing they like to keep their in-store music pretty loud, i took my headphones off rather than compete and blow out my eardrums. i usually like what they're playing anyway, so it didn't seem like it was going to be a big deal. sadly i was wrong.

apparently, it's fucking "Beatles week". In addition to the release of Rock Band Beatles edition, they've re-released a bunch of albums in digitally remastered format, to the delight of retro-rocking-anglophiles everywhere and i sat there for 45 minutes, listening to some sort of Best Of compilation while reading. Naturally, i posted a status update about it on Facebook and was totally deluged by mixed comments from both the Pro-Beatles and Anti-Beatles sects, the latter of which i find myself firmly amongst. FYI: the Pro-Beatles folks are almost as fanatical as the Pro-Lifers and the Anti-Gay Marriage nuts.

i don't get their music. personally, i the Beatles' sound incredibly dated, in a way that just isn't pleasant. i'm a product of the 80's and the 90's; i grew up with Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, New Edition, the Bangles and a veritable phalanx of one-hit wonders whose names could fill a phonebook. Though that music, too is beyond dated, it's a snapshot of my childhood.

also, i just don't get that kind of fanaticism. i love my music, but i'm not militant about it. if you don't like Bjork (and c'mon, how many people really like her), i get that; she's not for everyone; like headcheese, tripe and blood sausage. Ditto Kristine W, Rufus Wainwright, the Pet Shop Boys and Colton Ford, but hey...that's why iPods have headphones and "skip" buttons. i'm not crazy enough to think that every song that falls from Colton Fords sweet sweet lips is magical (half his 1st album is a dud), but i like what i like. i'm not sure i can explain why i like the artists i do; i just do. honestly, though, i don't think their music requires explanation...well Bjork's might require a translator, but that's another story.

Beatles fans (like Stevie Nicks and Prince fans), though, will beat you over the head with why the Beatles are the alpha and omega of music history and how they've influenced every single artist and/or musician ever...including anyone who made music before them and you better nod and smile or else.

So, tomorrow morning when i go in for my latte, hopefully my little java jockies will be playing something else...anything else...'cuz i definitely can't take two days in a row of Beatlemania and the weather isn't supposed to warm up anytime soon.

CawfeeMate: the Anti-Cawfee

2009-09-09T09:27:00.015-04:00

personally, i'm a very big fan of visual symmetry and balance. i like walls with two sconces, tables with pairs of candlesticks, etc. i have four tattoos on my legs: two on the right and two on the left (two of which are almost identical representations of a phoenix, one "hot" colors and one "cold" colors"; one on each leg in the exact same spot). you get the idea.

my marriage to CawfeeMate is also an exercise in balance and symmetry since he is, just about, everything that i'm not: physically he's short, fair and strong and personally he's neat, tidy, organized, serious, responsible, thrifty, level headed, etc and we balance each other out perfectly. all his strengths make up for my short-comings and vice versa. we're, basically, Paula Abdul's Opposites Attract video (i'm not sure which one of us is Paula and which is the cartoon cat, but you get the idea).

In direct contrast with being a big fan of symmetry, i'm also a big flaming ball of entropy, leaving chaos and disorder in my wake of fabulousness and fierceness. true to form, CawfeeMate is usually not far behind me restoring order to (most) of which i've torn assunder and the place where this is most obvious (to me) is the dishwasher. when i load our dishwasher it is with zero regard for placement of...anything. my objective is to cram as much crap in as possible to get the job done and get the dishes clean without lifting a sponge so i can play Castlevania III. unfortunately, when i load a dishwasher it's 90% negative space.

He, on the other hand is the king of Dishwasher Jenga and usually shoos me out of the way and rearranges things so that the entire dishwasher is filled with plates, pots, glasses and silverware with 1% negative space but still allows for pretty damn good cleaning. as someone with incredibly poor judgement and 3D imagining, watching him is as fascinating as it is infuriating. not surprisingly, he's also an incredible parallel parker and great at furniture placement.

on the flipside, the minute the diswasher finishes, i empty the thing of all the burning hot plates. if it was up to him, they'd sit there for days. see? balance.

September Resolutions

2009-09-08T07:43:00.005-04:00

1. write something every (week) day, instead of just updating my Facebook status every fifteen minutes.
2. continue working out regularly, upping the weights accordingly and not plateauing when it gets easy.
3. find some kind of cardio workout that doesn't make me wish i was dead.
4. increase blog traffic on this tired old corner of the internet that i call my own.
5. find reasons to hate my job less.
6. find a creative outlet.

Test Day: This Explains My Complete Lack of Fufillment

2009-09-04T09:57:00.001-04:00

Your Career Personality: Caring, People-Oriented, and Competent

Your Ideal Careers:

Esthetician

Massage therapist

Nurse

Pediatrician

Personal assistant

Personal coach

Personal trainer

Preschool teacher

Volunteer coordinator

Wedding planner

The Quick and Dirty Career Test

Blogthings: Our Quizzes Weren't Written By Bored 12 Year Olds

Test Day: Pet Peeve

2009-09-04T07:36:00.000-04:00

You Would Be a Pet Bird

You're intelligent and witty, yet surprisingly low maintenance.

You charm people easily, and they usually love you a lot more than you love them.

You resent anyone who tries to own or control you. You refuse to be fenced in.

Why you would make a great pet: You're very smart and entertaining

Why you would make a bad pet: You're not interested in being anyone's pet!

What you would love about being a bird: Flying, obviously

What you would hate about being a bird: Being caged

What Kind of Pet Would You Be?

Work is Hard. Time for Blogthings!

An Open Letter to The Ex I Saw on the Bus Last Night

2009-09-03T07:50:00.006-04:00

wow! it's been years* since we saw each other last (coincidentally, I’m pretty sure you were the last guy I dated before I met CawfeeMate); you still look really good** and haven’t changed, a bit***. I had forgotten how into music**** you were and how many stories you had*****! Congratulations again on getting engaged! I think it’s really great that you found someone; he must be a really great guy and I hope everything goes well with the wedding. Anyway, I’m glad we got to chat on the bus ride home****** and I hope we’ll bump into each other again*******!

*well, not exactly years; i've seen you on the bus a few times, since I switched routes last January, but i've never felt the need to acknowledge you because i thought it would be awkward; but since the last time saw each other on the bus we've become Facebook friends, and i'm guessing that's what prompted you to say hi and ask to sit next to me.

** translation: if we were both single, i'd totally fuck you, again.

*** that stutter hasn’t improved has it? y’know, the one that makes you repeat repeat repeat repeat the same word or word or word or sentence a couple of times before you get it out? God that was annoying…still is, actually. Between the stutter and the completely uninteresting content, your stories seem to take forever. Were you always this much of a bore? God, maybe that’s why I stopped seeing you.

**** nobody should ever tell somebody else, “because I’m a musician, I tend to hear music differently than most; that’s why I can truly appreciate how amazing Madonna’s Hard Candy is” you pompous bore. BTW: i've heard your "music" and i can understand why you're producing your own albums; the 1st two make wonderful coasters when i can't find my copy of Confessions On the Dancefloor.

***** the one about kicking your mom out of your apartment? priceless! the one about your testicle which was twisted inside your scrotum? a total gas!

****** because even though it seemed to take 3 days to get home, it really and truly reminded me how great CawfeeMate is and how much I appreciate him; which I old him, the second I got in the car.

******* actually, I just hope I’m quick enough to feign sleep next time.

Test Day: It's Not Easy

2009-08-28T09:56:00.001-04:00

Your Love is Green

When you love someone, it's a very rational process. You love with your head first.

Love is all about fitting a person into your life. You can't love unless the situation is just right.

You are an ideal partner in romantic relationships. You try to be as caring, loyal, and forgiving as possible.

You take love seriously, and you don't give up on a commitment. You don't need a ring to stay with someone through thick and thin.

What Color Is Your Love?

does anyone else find it ironic that i'm colorblind and can't see green?

That's So Gay

Reading Listening is Fundamental

I Hate Myself for Loving Ewe

Card Attack

You (Unfortunately) Can't Spell Christmas Without Christ

the Clap

High End Moral Dilemma #237

Ho-Ho-Hold UP

Unwound II: the Response

All Wound Up

It Can Get Better

Knitting Takes Balls

an Open Letter to Smokey Josephine

What're You Sellin'?

God Complex

I'm Watching You, Watching Me, Watching You

Elsewhere in the Blogverse

Proud Mary Part I (or Easy Bake Sweater)

Tic Toc Tic Toc Tic Toc

To the Left, to the Right

Pups and Twinks and Bears, Oh My!

Confessions of a Yarn Abuser

on DPNS and Needles

Wishful Thinking

a Bad Romance

R-E-S-P-etc.

You Don't Have to Be Crazy to Work Here...

Sock It To Me

People Are People, Right?

Snatch

Might I Have a Word?

My Semi-Annual Post

Park It

I'm Not Kidding

the Other Kind of Knitters (or Neither a Lender Nor a Borrower Be)

Color by Numbers

the Wonderful Wallaby of Oz

How to Be a Good Commuter (or How Not to Get the Crap Kicked Out of You By a Fellow Commuter)

the Magic Number

Knit Wittery

Yup, Just Like Madonna

a New Leaf

CawfeeGuy's Holiday Chestnuts

*Sigh*

Sophia Petrillo: Sicily

Soup Dumplings, Pink Unicorns and That Guy from Buffy

Diane Savino: Brooklyn

Another Disgusting Day in Albany

iCaved

Knit Wit

Bleeech Friday

Top 10 Things I'm Thankful For This Year

If I'm Your Zaan, Would You Be My Jayna?

Card Attack

Test Day: My Personal DNA

Taking a Stand While Sitting

Thanks Dr Brian (You're Better, On a Monday Morning, Than My Caramel Latte`)

Test Day: Book 'Em

Friday is For Forgiveness, People

Test Day: Fear of Phobias

Test Day: I Must Say, I'm Curious What Dr. K's Result Will Be

Test Day:Your Favorite Fruit

Test Day: Halloweenie

Thursday Morning Cop Out Post II

Artsy Friday

Test Day: Oh Look, Something Shiny!

Test Day: That's SUPER Genius

Random Life Lesson #56

Test Day: Flame ON!

But Is It Available In Leopard Print, For MS?

Top 10 Reasons Why I Don't Like Vacation

Phoning It In

See You Next Week, Kids!

Totally Random Thought of the Day

CawfeeGuy Liked a Thing (So He Put a Ring On It)

Test Day: Um...I'm Not Black...I'm SICILIAN...

Test Day: Tastefully Dynamic

Supersize Me

Gays of Future Past

Lighten Up Faggot (or You're a Card)

Sigh