Monday, April 30, 2007
Please someone give my happy ass a break. The "Washington Madam" who offered only "erotic encounters" but there's nuthin' dirty goin' on. A Bush Admin Official resigns saying he only hired one of her girls out for a "massage."
I hope Mother doesn't read this one, but I have been around a few corners, continents and seen "massage parlors" of the ilk claimed here. I have had fabulous massages by masseurs all over the world. Once in Canada, Barishnikov's ex masseur rubbed me expertly and unfortunately not sexually.
Believe it or not, the only one time that a massage I was recieving from a man that lived down the hall from me went from great deep tissue work to work on a part of my body that wasn't tense when he started. Having never anticipated that situation and having no prepared words to escape I grimmaced silently until it was over. Massage to release, it's called.
So anyone who comes out of the Washington Madam's little black book needs to tell it like it is. Massage only, for the love of Mike.
Last Year's theme was easy, TIMOTHY AND THE HEART ATTACK THAT MADE HIM EVEN MORE CRAZY WITH TWO REHABS, but I didn't know that theme for sure until the bulk of it was over. After my second voluntary detox in August.
This year the theme is locked in early. Not only am I organizing a 25 year Reunion for 1500 people I haven't seen for a quarter century BUT suddenly I've been contacted by six of the people from my Chorus Boy days who I love and have missed.
Of course none of them can see me until I've lost 40 pounds. Still a vain gay chorus girl at heart.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Ten Years Ago, I was arguing the "downside" of CALLER ID. How could we live without that now? How else would we ignore 50% of our incoming calls.
Then came the car-phone and the "cell-phones" that had a battery pack (worn over the shoulder for weight and a handset the size of a brick.
Ten years pass. I have no landline backup and Mr. Nokia decides o turn "antenna to Heaven." I am unable to start my day because someting I scoffed at a decade ago is mocking me from beyond it's little cardboard grave.
Satan lives in Trends. Quote me.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
My Sister, Rachel and her husband, Mark enjoying BBQ last June when they were only beginning the adoption process. At This time Katie wasn't even born. She's six months old now and coming "home" to Arlington, Texas on Thursday morning. They recieve some weird descriptions from the Social Worker about their "child to be." Katie was described as: "shy, with a quick temper, liking quiet, and not liking strangers."
She's six months old and her description sounds like a personal ad, "Enjoys fine wines, cooking gourmet meals and arranging flowers..." How can anyone read that much detail into a six-month old babies' behaviour? I say things like that about my cat but I realize that the appraisal of Stinky's behaviour I concoct is my concoction and means nothing to cat behaviour.
Six-month-old children are as foreign to us a pets when it comes to reading moods and complicated emotions. They are more a projection of the love, apprehension, tenseness, relaxation of the caregivers. If you're nervous as you hold her she will process that nervousness and be fussier or mad crying.
Talk to her none-stop or sing when you run out of conversation. Read her the newspaper, anything. In your arms or riding in a back pack, her first lessons in changeing Ethnic Language Groups is feeling sounds vibrate in your chest and hearing the "r" sound and others that are not a part of Korean language sounds, etc... The slow pace of English compared to the speed of Korean. She'll take to you more quickly AND you need to rewire her tiny brain to learn the sounds of AMERICAN SPEECH as opposed to ASIAN SPEECH.
For the first year of a baby's life they grow accustomed to the base sounds of the language they are most exposed to. She needs a crash course in TEXAN (poor girl, LOLA will be a non-stop singing, talking machine...so will I). So talk to her. Her little brain is more "plastic" now that it will ever be again. If you had a fluent Korean speaker, your whole houshold could become bi-lingual.
I will talk to her nonstop and sing 80's Music to her when I arrive May 7-14 so I won't be a "stranger" for long. So exciting!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Saturday, April 21, 2007
I have an adopted sister who came to my family in 1971 at 8 months old from Korea. She's 37 now and has just returned to Korea with her husband, Mark, to fetch the little girl pictured above and bring her to her new home in Texas now that they have adopted her. "returned to Korea," maybe it's because from my objective perspective I see my sister in Korea 'again' although I'm certain from her POV she's somewhere for the first time. So curious how the mind works...
Welcome 'home' Katie.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
THEM - My Mother thinks I'm "self-important!"
ME - Why I oughta, I mean the very idea...I'll get her if it's that Last Thing I do! Watch Your Back Lady!
THEM - My Therapist has spent a year figuring out where to begin with me.
ME - I prefer "complex" but I'm merely "complicated."
THEM - My heartless, soul-sucking mooch of a Long Time Companion has returned to ATM, I mean TIM.
ME - I should earn more money.
THEM - My Cat is looking at me funny.
ME - Do I show her I love her enough?
THEM - zzzzz
ME - How does my hair look from the back?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Morning Has Broken
As sung by Cat Stevens/Yusuf Islam
lyrics by Eleanor Farjeon
Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day
Thursday, April 05, 2007
This is an entirely TOO long explanation about the last post - "In Three-Quarter Time" which I got in trouble for by advertising that the epistle had "boobies." Some sweet someone judged the picture from the last post as "pornographic" - their words not mine and I got in all sorts of trouble at my ex-workplace because some of their work email addresses were mixed in with the distribution list I sent out that advertised the epistle with "boobies" - my word. The Photo I had chosen was a 20's "art-study" of the Three Graces, black & white, not selacious in my opinion. But I know the opinion of the viewer is ultimately the standard for judging obscenity. The fact that the word "boobies" got "Blackberried" to a co-worker and someone thought the Ladies were "pornographic" created an idiotic Tempest in a Timothy-pot.
Oddly the point of the last post was my poem made entirely of three word phrases or acronyms. That's why it isn't illustrated any longer.
So for this post I decided to illustrate (she's illustrated. layers upon layers upon layers) what I thought "real boobies" (illustrated - ironic, no?) look like.
P.S. All My Funny Work seems to be on The Last REAL JBHS Graduates 81-83 this week anyway. I'm a 1 blog man.