Thursday, June 28, 2007

Dogs think they are human. Cats think they are God.

Jackie pants sometimes (and also had a little bought of sneezing and hacking, which disturbs me) so I decided to do some research online (never a good idea for the hypochondriac and hyper-paranoid individual like msyelf) and came across this: Cats can pant?

The comments there are divided into two factions. One faction says that it's usually just from being hot and worked up, which is comforting, because this cat plays HARD and this apartment, despite windows open and fans in constant use, is blazing. The other faction is the faction that speaks words that keep me up all night by claiming that it is the sign of a heart condition at best, and sudden death at worst. "Jeff" posted:

Our cat has panted on and off, but not related to temperature. The other day he was panting and started to dry-heave. He started to dry-heave so violently, he was throwing himself a couple feet across the room. In less than 10 minutes he ended up collapsing, dead. After speaking with the vet, they determined it was an underlying heart condition that eventually his body could not handle with age. I’m not saying all panting indicates a heart condition, but be careful and try to observe patterns. We noticed our cat would pant most often during stressful experiences.


[the author gasps in horror] As a new cat parent, that really puts me over the edge and we're going to go to the vet soon. But I know she is going to freak out over getting back in the cat carrier, and how any vet is going to be able to even look at her face while she freaks out without sedating her is beyond me. She will not be a willing participant in her medical care.

In other news, our own Astoria Queens has made the news lately, as Saint Demetrius' ankle bone was stolen from a church right around the corner and then recovered from a pawn shop.

I took the day off to have the super come fix some things including the constant drip in the shower, so of course my house is even filthier now than it was before. Jackie strait up hissed at him which I publicly scolded her for, but she understood it was a wink-wink scolding and we laughed about it later. I finally took my ass all the way out to Target, which, for me, is a journey into wild frontiers, and lugged two rugs, a vacuum cleaner, and the Kelly Clarkson cd back on the subway. Now I am exahuasted. I am really good at buying cleaning supplies. I'm just not that good at actually cleaning.

It is kind of fun.

My current favorite thing ever: yaycoloring.gif

So tell me what ya want, what ya really really want

The Spice Girls are reuniting. I will admit that this pleases me in some strange way.

And I don't care what anyone says. Spice World the movie was entertaining.

Get Me Bodied

Everyone (well two people at least) is talking about the Hudson/Holiday duet at the BET Awards, but what is baffling to me is Beyonce “Bionic Woman” Knowles coming out of her robotic shell ala Kylie Minogue.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

IS there a beef between Madonna and Janet Jackson?

For both Madonna fans and Janet fans, that question is as old as the hills, and has never really been answered by either so far as I know. The diehard fans of each, however, do have a spirited debate about which is better, as if there is only room for one international mega pop sensation superstar. In Truth or Dare (which is now about sixteen years old) Madonna advises a dancer to "bite your tounge" when he says she looks "very Rhythm Nation 1814" in a Chanel dress she's trying on. She notably defended her, however, during Nipplegate. That's neither here nor there, but in today's Page Six the report goes

June 27, 2007 -- IS there a beef between Madonna and Janet Jackson? Madge was chummy with fellow singer Shakira at Butter Monday night (our spy said they showed up "hand in hand") and was spotted dancing on banquettes with Demi Moore, Ashton Kutcher and Penelope Cruz. But Jackson was holed up a few booths down and, "She was not invited to join Madonna's crew," said an onlooker, who told us the table drank "seven bottles of champagne and a ton of beer."


Well, maybe Madonna wasn't invited to join Janet's crew? Maybe she didn't want to get sucked into Kaballa, what, with three of the biggest joining in the "light" to combine their mind control forces. Who knows. Developing...

Monday, June 25, 2007

James Watson on Dye Jobs

In graduate school, I read The Double Helix, a fascinating autobiographical account of two men's disovery of DNA, written by James Watson. One notable thing about both the discovery and the book, however, is the hardcore sexism that Rosalind Franklin, a key player in the discovery, faced from Watson and fellow discoverer Francis Crick. Little (if any) credit was given to her for her expertise on X-ray diffraction which was instrumental in Watson and Crick's discovery. She wasn't even allowed in the faculty lounge. There's of course debate over what she would have figured out herself based on the X-ray work, but she was undoubtedly treated like shit. She didn't get in on the Noble Prize. She died before the book was published in the sixties.

Page Six today reports on James Watson's upcoming memoir, Avoid Boring People, which I'll admittedly try to read, with some advice he includes about hair dye for men. I wonder if he thinks, at 79 years old, if "gray hair and wrinkles at 50 bespeak dependability" and "it's better to act younger than you look, rather than the reverse" apply to women as well?

Saturday, June 23, 2007

KILL IT

LOVES her feather boa on a stick.

It ain't easy



Tomorrow: doctors, lawyers, secretaries, drag queens, leather fetishists, dykes on bikes, chicks with dicks, barristas, porn stars, the-a-tah people, public figures, the mayor, some senators, rabbis, reverends, band queens, old ones, younguns, whites, blacks, asians, hispanics, samoans, and many, many more will come together to celebrate "Gay Pride" via a parade called a "march" from 5th Avenue and 52nd Street to Christopher and Greenwich Streets beginning at noon until it's over. Several thousand men will be shirtless. A great time will be had by all, and free condoms and rainbow-designed parephernalia will likely be in wide distribution. Extended remix dance hits will be the theme music heard from every store front and float.

There are those of us, and by us I mean "the gays", who lament Gay Pride Season (yes, honey, it's a season between Spring and Summer). For a variety of reasons, some of us do not enjoy it. Some of us do not like the omnipresent drag queens, the flamboyance, the mother fucking crowds, not to mention the crass commercialization of our "community". Be proud, buy a bunch of shit you don't need and wave a rainbow flag, or better yet, wear a pair of rainbow flag speedos as you prance down the avenue. For this one day we can all pretend that we are an open, accepting bunch, and live in denial that we are all just as segregated and exclusivist as the mainstream. I know my lanky ass ain't gonna be out there in half naked. In fact, I'm hoping I don't get caned for not wearing my burqa as is required for people like me in Chelsea, at least.

With all that said, it's completely unfair to the community. Every single grouping of human beings from the rural tribesmen of subsaharan Africa to the rich and powerful of Manhattan's upper east side have a gay or two. The gay community includes pieces of every other community, so of course just like those other communities, the segments of our community do things like bicker, and fight, and hate. BUT for the most part, and it may be a stretch, we gays like each other or at least want the same things for each other that we want for ourselves. We want to be able to live our lives, and grow, and of course eventually take over the world via our subtley hidden yet very powerful and increasingly effective Gay Agenda.

So I go to the parade every year because I am just as gay as the next one, and just as interested in celebrating the fact that we've come this far. In 1980, when I was five years old, AIDS had just started, and the gays had to make great strides together. We aren't like that, exactly, anymore, but I hold on to the hope that we can be. And thanks to the revolting of a few drag queens and the subsequent activism of gays, lesbians, and transgenders back in the day, I can't imagine what it was like to have been so invisible in the 70's, 60's, 50's and before. And as if there were need for any other reason, I always have fun.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Camera Shy

She's not so keen on the flash. Pictured here with a 99 cent mouse from PetCo that she loves. It's like her version of XBox 360.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

It's official

I'm going to Germany in September.

JT Leroy, Paris Hilton, Personal Frustration

The NY Post continues to report on the JT Leroy scandal and subsequent trial, all of which I am obsessed and fascinated. Laura Albert, the creator of the JT Leroy “persona” is being sued by the company that bought the movie rights, because the value of the property is lowered now that the truth has come out – that there is no JT Leroy outside of Albert’s imagination and her ex-boyfriend’s sister’s impersonation thereof.

Every day in the Post they make the point that “JT” had a big celebrity following –many of whom thought they actually knew him, just as the publishers did, when in fact it was a somewhat elaborate hoax, a word that Albert doesn’t like because she’s saying the whole thing now is a fucking Cybil situation.

What’s killing me, though, is that in every article they put in a little mention that the JT character had “many celebrity friends, like Madonna” and whoever else. I am pretty certain that ole Madge Ritchie was not one of the celebrity “friends” of JT Leroy, or else she would’ve been writing songs and books about him and producing the movies of his books, as you know she gets committed to her fucking interests. Is there any confirmation of her every even mentioning him or communicating with “him”? I don’t think so. NY Post, check your facts and your sources.

On another note, maybe you’ve heard that Paris Hilton is in jail? It’s been in the news a tiny bit. Anyway now NBC is planning to give her $1 million upon her release for an interview about her time in jail. What could this possibly entail? She likely looked at the four walls and cried a lot, while thinking she’s getting all spiritual and metaphysical on our asses because she read The Secret. Why anyone would give her ONE dollar for ANYTHING is beyond me. It makes me mad, even.

In other news, [REDACTED] I am ready to move on from this place at some point but there is no where to go and that makes me want to break down and weep.

I'm also a bit concerned every day that this blog is going to be exposed, or expose me as it were.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Less Miserable


Yes, I'm adding a song now with every entry. :)

A friend was in town from Charlotte with some colleauges, so we've made our way around town and last night caught Les Miserables which I had never seen and which is fabulous. I relate of course to the innkeeper's daughter: dirt poor, can't get her man, and the first to die in the revolution.

After the show we all went for drinks and I was reminded that people who do not live in the City complain a whole hell of a lot about walking. It was like ten blocks max we walked and these people were acting like it was the fucking Trail of Tears.

Once I had drank myself into a good judgement-impaired moment, I ran into Chino and Freddy who are now both dead to me because they are so damn shady. But that's another tale for another day. Voodoo on you and a pox on your house. I have a chicken bone stewing and all the locks of that long nasty hair that I will ever need.

Meanwhile, I am an unfit mother to Jackie. As a single mother of a disabled child I have to stop, as SDA would say, putting her in the hallway with a bowl of cheerios while mama turns a trick. I have to stop introducing her to these strange men and giving her false hopes of having a father.

For those of you who may be new please note that Jackie is a cat.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

I keep my visions to myself...



It is 7:00 PM and a young man steps onto the Queens bound N train. He is wearing a white t-shirt and denim shorts. His tight curly hair is pulled up in a headband revealing intricate patterns shaved in beneath. He is the color of the lightest one on "Girlfriends". Eyelashes a mile long, eyes so big on his baby face they look like black saucers with no whites, big pink lips, androgynous, immaculate, can't be older than 20 years but looks like he has lived about 100,000.

He is maybe the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and I am not one to exaggerate.

He sits next to another man, who is wearing a pink polo shirt and blue duckhead pants. He looks like he is either going golfing or to work at a call center. His name is probably like "Chuck" or "Billy". Something is off -- his shoes. They are black sandle things made of rubber with a lot of straps and exposed feet. They are supposed to be comfortable in spite of hideous, but they are probably just hideous. He looks a little bit crazy, as he leans forward to me across the aisle and says, "Can I have a cigarette?"

We are underground, on a train, and I must look like a smoker. What in the world? I lie. "I don't smoke." He goes back to his NY Daily News.

The one beside him, the pretty one, is listening to his iPod. He has carefully studied the quick interaction of me and duckhead-pants. A few stops pass and we approach the last stop before the train will come above ground in Queens. He removes one headphone from one ear and says to me, "What have you done all day?"

I look up from my book again, and in one second measure this question's meaning and intentions before I answer. "I ate lunch, worked a little bit, and visited a friend who is in town."

He stands up as the train screeches to a halt and walks to the door beside me. "You look like you've just been dreaming."

"Indeed." The doors open and close after he passes through and me and crazy duckhead pants continue on to Queens.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Well we scheme and we scheme but we always blow it; We've yet to crash but we still might as well enjoy it



Cha-ching-chino introduced me to imeem.com which is like YouTube for songs. I can't yet figure out how this is in any way legal, but there are Official Artist endorsements so musicians must be making coins on it somehow. At any rate, it will likely be shut down soon, so enjoy while it lasts.

I have been such a bad blogger, and I know that this makes countless hundreds of thousands of people around the entire world cry a little bit on the inside at least. But I'll be back in full form soon.

You may recall that I am on a personal, first name basis with Senator Clinton and her husband. Well I am also on a personal email level with Barak Obama and many of his friends (through their campaign website of course). Just trying to stay abreast of the "front runners" as it were, and I have to say I like Clinton and Obama both and hope they don't have to smear each other too bad en route to the nomination of the Democratic Party. Anyway, Obama's camp keeps sending little email about how, if you donate at least $5, you will be entered into a random drawing to have dinner with Obama and three other lucky peeps. To me this reeks of buying a lottery ticket, a vote-for-me-and-I'll-give-you-something-cool move, and it kind of turns me off in a major way as a campaign fundraising tactic. So, a strike against Mr. O. I have been leaning towards Hillary anyway, even though she is clearly unclear on where she stands on the war, and it's unfortunate that war -- in which many actual human beings die or worse -- has to be politiked like everything else. Weighed and measured and polled -- what will people like for us to say about it? This is the way of th world I guess. John Edwards called "the war on terror" a bumper sticker slogan and as honest and right as he is on that, that statement no doubt will haunt him and he will undoubtedly never, ever be POTUS.

My new job is kicking my ass in major ways and as usual my confidence in my abilities is thin as paper. My boss seems to like me though. She praised my first little project. But the ongoing, massive amounts of work are already causing me to panic. If there's one thing I'm good at, though, it's working through a panic.

Jackie the cat is, how shall I say, not a mental giant. But I still love her. She's come around, doing better with her balance issues, and beginning to understand that 7:00 AM is not playtime (but she's still not too clear on that). She's a good cat. And that's the last I'll say about her for a while. I'm totally like Kathy Lee Gifford who would never shut up about her son Cody when she was on television. I could talk about my feline daughter for hours ... but I won't.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

test

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Expect a lot of Cat Blogging

Jackie, my adopted cat, impersonated a very calm, sleepy kitty in the shelter, but her true personality (balls to the wall crazy) has emerged since she's become accostomed to her new house.

She has a favorite hiding spot, right under the bed, so as I have a murphy bed that raises into cabinet, I have been unable to raise it up for fear of crushing her. But this morning I quickly put it up while she was isolated in the living room, and upon her re-entry into the room she was BAFFLED. I loved it.

She is so funny with her aforementioned balance problems. Sometimes I just hear a "SPLAT" from the other room and run to check on her, only to find she's had an unfortunate yet unharmful leap from something.

Trying to teach her to stay off the top of things like dressers (how she got up there I have no idea) and encourage her to sleep at night when I sleep, which is not playtime.

Got to get my camera home from work for picture taking.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

I got a cat today

from the ASPCA adopt-a-thon. Her name is Jaqueline "Jackie" Susan Bumgardner and she is so beautiful. She has some balance issues due to an inner-ear injury, but I'm not the most well-balanced person so I relate. Right now she is trying to become accostomed to the new environment but she's making great strides. Pictures forthcoming.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Going to the Capitol

I'm loving my new job -- and having an office and no time-clock ball-and-chain nonsense -- but a bitch is being worked hard. Which is fine. Tomorrow I'm going to DC so no me for a few days. Probably not much of me after that, either.

Did you hear some people tried to blow up JFK? Yeah. My grandmother apparantly heard "Queens" in the news story and suddenly every family member was calling making sure I was okay. At that point I hadn't even heard about it, but after I did, I was sure to tell them that they were in fact busted and I wasn't laying dead under a pile of rubble that used to be Long Island City because, as it were, there was no pile of rubble.

Also, the MTA is strait crazy. $3.00 subway fares? Have you heard about this potential shitstorm? Always something with them. Usually when they cry "broke" they are really in the midst of massive, unprecedented surpluses.

So there is this guy, Chino, and his cousin, Freddy, both of whom are a little sweet on me and both of whom are a shade shady. Freddy is absolutely beautiful and I would give it all up for him could I trust him any further than I could throw his skinny ass. Chino on the ohter hand is not as cute and has an irritating speech impediment and long hair that fucking gets everywhere when he washes and brushes it.

Anyway Fred called the other day wanting to come over and I, trying to quit dealing with people who perpetuate shenanigans and encourage my bad behaviors, declined, and in an unheard of move, homeboy started in with "Please?" I don't care that it's raining. I don't care that you're on 8th Avenue in the rain. I don't care that some girl did this and Chino did that. I don't care. You can't come over.

There are new developments in my family but they will have to wait.

Not much more I can think of to chime in on really. Holla holla.

Friday, June 01, 2007

Sarah Schulman's The Child

I'm not one to tell anyone what they "owe" anyone else, but Sarah Schulman is a lesbian that gay men owe a lot. She was early in activism for people with HIV/AIDS, at a time when even saying you cared about the issue made you an object of hostility, though she is a member of the least likely group to get it. She is still a big voice for us, and many other Others. She is also really, really smart and a great writer.

K-rock gave me the "uncorrected proof" of Schulman's latest novel, The Child, and I loved it. At the center of the story is the relationship between a grown man and a fifteen year old boy, and the legal woes that erupt from it, surrounded by a lesbian lawyer's relationship, family strife, and cancer scare. The date for publication is June, so you can now find it online and elsewhere. Again, though she is a lesbian, she really nails that "thing", for me at least, about what it feels like to be a gay man across the years, from the moment of realizing it. I can only imagine that she also nails the lesbian thing. Her stories are full of characters that are believable in their successes and failures.

Don't read any reviews online, just read the book first. All the reviews and "blurbs" that I read, after reading the book, either get the story wrong or the "moral" wrong, but they all ruin it by giving away too much information about the plot. I'm glad I had not seen any of those before I finished. It's best just to read it with no knowledge about what's going to happen, so you can see how your views on the characters and their circumstances changes through the pages.

"It is Schulman's ability to look pain in the eye and convert it to wisdom that the reader admires." --San Francisco Chronicle

Jerry Falwell is dead

but Tinky Winky is still a persecuted homosexual.

Holy Ghost Headquarters Prayer Band Mission of New Beginning Deliverance Church WHAT?

A woman is suing the MTA for firing her from a bus driver position because she would not wear pants, as her Pentecostal Holiness beliefs require her to wear only skirts.

I think of any religious dress requirement as mostly eye-roll worthy, but I don't see the big deal with wearing a skirt to drive a bus, but whatever. I have mixed feelings on the whole thing.

But what strikes me in the article is the right-out-of-a-Shirley Q. Liquor skit, stereotypically ridiculously long name of the church: Holy Ghost Headquarters Prayer Band Mission of New Beginning Deliverance Church. LOL