Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Jim's 4th annual 29th birthday

Who: The people who make my life worth living, including you!

What: I never turned 30. Last year, my friend Mary gave me the cute term "thirty-wonderful," and I could live that. This year, I'm going back to being 29. And there are plans for birthday shenanigans!

When: Saturday, August 25th, beginning at 8pm(ish) and ending when the last person collapses. ;)

Where: Downtown Laramie (for starters). Let's meet at the Alibi for a drink or two. We'll start bar-hopping from there! At around 11ish, we'll head back to my place for "drunken sing-a-long karaoke." The Library bar was supposed to karaoke, but they're not cooperating with my master plan. So the night owls and the adventurous can go back to "Ruby Slippers" (aka my house) for a sing-a-long karaoke fest. I may not have my own karaoke machine, but I have CD's, surround sound, and no shame!

Why: It's not every day I turn 29 (though it IS every year now). And it's a last hurrah before school starts. Do you really need an excuse?

Other details:
  • Gifts are welcome, but certainly not required. Having a chance to see my friends and adopted families before all hell breaks loose at work is a gift in and of itself!
  • If you're not sure where to find us, call me. I'll be happy to tell you where to go. *smirk*
  • If you don't know where my house is, let me know and I'll send you directions.
  • You don't HAVE to bring anything to karaoke, but if you have a particular type of munchie or adult beverage you can't live without, you might want to bring it along. You're welcome to what I have, but no fair whining if I don't have your craving. ;)
  • No, you are not required to be there for EVERYTHING. That's why the evening is in stages...so those with a life, kids, or a curfew can duck out at any point. I won't hold it against you...unless you ask really nicely.
  • No, you are not required to sing if you come to "karaoke."
  • Yes, you can invite someone. Work is already crazy for me, and the odds are that I forgot to invite someone important.
    Any questions? Give me a call, email me, MySpace me, Connexion me, etc.
  • Monday, August 20, 2007

    Big Gay Jim...Unplugged

    This weekend I had an invitation to go "camping" up in the mountains. A friend has a cabin up there with electricity, running water, etc. I was tentative about the trip at first. I've been having back spasms for a while, and the thought of "camping" with a bad back isn't thrilling. I also worried that with the impending birthday, I should be responsibile and clean the house, etc. In other words, I was listing all the reasons NOT to go. Fortunately, my friends are good salesfolk.

    We set off late Friday night and came back Sunday afternoon. I didn't have to drive. I didn't have to buy food. I had a bed to sleep in. I was in good company. We had an amazingly fun weekend, and went over to Saratoga for a dip in the hot springs. That felt SOOOOO good on my back. It was eight shades of relaxing, and was just what the doctor ordered before a week of sure hell at work.

    When heading up the mountain, I made a show of turning off my cell phone. "Look everyone...I am officially on vacation." And it felt SO good. I didn't have to worry about work calling me. I didn't have to worry about calling someone back before they went to bed. I didn't have to WORRY. No TV. No video games. Our only tech indulgences were a fridge and a stereo system. Wood burning stove even!

    I fully recommend this to everyone. Turn off your digi-life for a while. While I live and die by the computer, cell phone, and DVR, it's nice to be without them for a while. Be safe and sane about it, though. People knew where we were. We had phones available in case of emergency. If you turn off and check out, you should do the same. Otherwise, drop out for a day or two.

    Monday, August 13, 2007

    My heart runneth over

    This will be the last post in the latest series. But not to worry, the fabulous gayness will continue! And hopefully, there will be an inspirational word, thought, etc. Or two. So sorry...it's a long one.

    I've gotten a bit of grief every now and then from friends about some of the TV shows I watch. In addition to crime dramas, fabulously gay shows, the Daily Show, etc...I also watch shows like Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. As Linus calls them, shows designed to make you cry. And to a large extent, he's right. Overly sappy. Mushy even. And it works, too. It's pretty much a guarantee that by the time the family of twelve (who probably have a story like: lost their father to cancer just before the tornado destroyed their ramshackle, termite-infested 4 bedroom house) gets their new house, I'm blubbering like an idiot. And not just because "the team" goes the extra mile by treating the entire house with a special anti-termite goo and installs an underground emergency shelter...just in case tornadoes don't follow the same rules as lightning.

    It's because of the love the family has for one another. It doesn't matter what they've been through, how tough times got, or how much they've lost. They have kept their heads high because they have each other. They keep putting one foot in front of the other because they know they're not alone. And more often than not, they also have found some way to give back to their community, their family, or someone else in need. They remind me of many people in my life.

    My mother, who never let what we didn't have keep us from feeling loved and blessed. Dennis and Judy Shepard, who found grace and compassion when it was least likely and who still today devote their time, energy, and money in the hopes nobody else has to do the same. And the list goes on and on.

    Lately I've been watching a new show on TNT, called Heartland. It's about a team of transplant surgeons and nurses. They save lives, and they lose some. They care about total strangers, and do everything they can to give people more time. more time with loved ones. More time to accomplish a dream. More time to simply live. It's about giving to someone else, even when you don't get anything in return. Out of love. And out of humanity.

    I have a confession. I watch these shows BECAUSE I will cry. It's a way to vent the sadness. The sadness I feel when I hear a friend worry about whether or not she can stay in school because her parents don't come through as promised. The frustration I feel when I read today that a 22 year man died in custody because OUR government refused him the AIDS medication he needed to stay alive. His crime? He didn't have a green card. The anger I feel when I hear the Phelps will protest the funerals of those killed in the bridge collapse.

    But most of all, it's the worry. The worry that those who mean SO much to me, and have given me so many wonderful yet intangible gifts, will not know how much love I carry inside. Sometimes I feel ready to burst. Like the love inside is overflowing. I was there when my mother died. I was there when I was afraid Scotty was going to do the same. For me, every single day in precious. Like so many of my faithful readers, I've felt the loss of a loved one. And I rejoice in every moment I get to spend with my friends and family.

    If you've ever heard me give a SafeZone presentation or speak to a class, you might know that back in 9th grade, I was ready to give up. I felt no hope, and was so tired of the internal struggle. But the day I was ready to swallow every pill in the house, a friend called and asked me to "head into town" for a day of fun. I don't remember what we did, but we had SO much fun. When I got home, I realized that had I followed through, I would have missed the good times too. And so from that day on, I have focused on the good times. I look toward the light at the end of the tunnel. The silver lining. Or at least I try to...I am human after all.

    So that's the way I try to live my life now. Always remember the good times. Help each other through the bad ones, and try to learn from them as you go. Take some chances. Love easily, and make certain you share that love. Speak it. Act it. Write it. MAKE IT KNOWN. And not just to those you call family. Or friend. But to everyone around you. The stranger on the street. The person who sits next to you in class. The umpteenth customer of the day.

    That's really the point of this whole series of posts. Just by changing the little things, we can make a big difference. "Become the change you want to see in the world." It really does work. And I've found that when you do your best to BE your best, the Universe will give you the best in return. Witness the countless friends and family who stand by you when you're sick, cranky, tired, in pain, poor, or just plain sad. Being filled with love is an amazing feeling. Sharing it is even better.

    So at the risk of sounding like a broken record, thank you to you all. And all my love. YOU GIVE ME WINGS!

    For the record, the only tears shed during the writing of this post are due to smiles and happy memories. It's not sadness talking...just LOVE! (And you know damned well that SOMEONE would worry it was a depressed or sulky post if I didn't clarify...it's the nature of text on a screen instead of tone of voice.

    Monday, August 06, 2007

    United We Stand... Why not work together?

    Think for a moment about all the time, energy, and power we spend fighting for a small piece of the pie. What if all the numerous groups worked together as one, combining that same time, power, and energy? It would be a force to reckoned with, indeed. We even have examples of people working together and the great things they can accomplish.

    The Olympics. We love to see athletes coming together in the spirit of sportmanship and competition. Even here in America we manage to make note of the trimuphs, struggles, and efforts of others. The under dogs. Someone who has overcome incredible odds just to participate. New firsts. New records. Heoric feats and daring dos. The Kennedy Center Honors. Celebrating people in film, television, music, and the arts. Where else in one year can you honor Zubin Mehta, Dolly Parton, Smokey Robinson, Steven Spielberg, and Andrew Lloyd Webber? (Don't know them? Look them up. They're worth it.)

    Here on campus we're starting to see it. Women's Action Network and Spectrum have co-sponsored countless events, and other groups along the way too. In the past, Spectrum has worked with Campus Ventures, Catholics on Campus, AAPISA, OMA, UMC, the Bahai's, Hillel, MEChA, several greek houses, and many departments. If we all worked together to bring in an event as one...how could it be denied? I imagine funding would be thrown at an event.

    One way or another, we have to learn to work together. The similarities between racism, sexism, homophobia, ageism, classism, politicism, etc. far outweigh the differences. Oppression is the same, even if the particular flavor isn't. It's not about us and them. There is only us. We are ALL connected. Not matter how many little boxes we try to create to separate us from one another, we're all still in the same container.

    What happens in Mexico impacts us in the U.S. Any conflict in the world has an impact on the entire globe. HIV crosses all boundaries, and the number of AIDS orphans who are coming of age and the number who will be orphaned in 10 years will certainly have global impact. How will nations of children eat? Learn? Govern? We must act now to prevent disaster down the road. And will take a concerted effort from everyone.

    But the good news is you don't have to go to Africa and work with AIDS orphans. You do, however, have to get involved. In something. Find something you're passionate about and volunteer. Donate your time and your money. Think globally and act locally is a great motto! It reminds me of something a Lakota healer taught me once.

    "First, I must heal myself. Then I can heal my family. Then we can heal our community. Then we can heal the world."

    Tuesday, July 31, 2007

    The Opression Olympics

    Since we've discussed how we define things and how those definitions are used to create an illusion of control, let's talk about what happens due to outside forces.

    When you are trained to fear the other or the different, it makes it easier maintain a kind of systemic control over groups of people. It's something that's often seen in times of war: representing the "enemy" as somehow less civilized or human. Think about how our current media, a fair percentage of the populace, and the government present the folks we're fighting. They're shown as inhumane, wanting to destroy "our way of life." They're nameless and faceless. They are vilified and demonized, even though our country's history ought to teach us something different. We're not as likely to see women and children on the news, unless there are American soldiers helping them and being kind. The technical term would be propaganda.

    After wars are over, we often learn a great deal more about the "other." We learn that not all Germans were Nazis, and that life wasn't always easy on the other side of the front lines. We also learn that we, too, are capable of horrific things. Internment camps for Japanese Americans. The Atomic Bomb. Abu Ghraib. Deception about weapons of mass destruction that didn't exist. But these sorts of things often don't matter until after the fact, because at the time we're too busy being against the "other guys." And it's much easier to do that when we don't know as much about them or don't talk about them as people.

    We give them names, so they're even less "normal" to us. Charlie. The Gerrys. Gooks. Sometimes it's not so much a name, as a grouping. Viet Cong. Al Qaeda. Insurgents. Rebels. Guerrillas. Anything to distance them. We draw political cartoons lampooning them. Sometimes we use marketing and advertising campaigns. If you've watched a decent quantity of Bugs Bunny or Looney Toons cartoons, you've seen another form of this. We are taught it is a simple game of us vs. them.

    And the same is true domestically. A great deal of effort is spent keeping different groups fighting one another. Blacks vs. gays. Christians vs. Muslims. And the list, or more accurately the cycle, never ends. When the Federal Marriage Amendmentment was being introduced, its supporters lobbied black churches heavily, trying to stir up this animosity. "They are trying to compare their CHOICE with your experiences, and isn't that wrong?! They're not the same thing! Stand with us against them!" They went to other churches saying "They want to force you to accept and perform weddings that go against your beliefs!" It doesn't matter if it's true, the tension and division is the goal.

    It's also done through economic means. "There's only so much money to go around, and we can only work on so many things at once." We're then taught to fight each other for that small piece of the pie. "Put in your budget requests so you can have programming available!" When a group does get something, the others are again set against them as opponents. "See what they got? You should have the same thing. You're just as good if not better than them." I learned a term for this at a conference a while back: the Oppression Olympics. As long as we're competing with one another, we're not working together and seeing the flaws in the system as a whole. And we're just getting little table scraps. LITTLE pieces of pie.

    Next time: United We Stand - Why not work together?

    Thursday, July 26, 2007

    Keeping it under control

    Since we've now discussed how we define things, we need to look at what we do with those definitions. How do we then use them to interact with the world around us?

    I'm not sure if it's human nature or just the current societal values, but we like to feel as though we're in control. And we're taught that knowledge and understanding leads to power. To control. If we figure out where something fits in the "scheme of things" we somehow have a better sense of the world around us. We break things down into its component parts in order to analyze it. (Again, for the geeks out there - deconstruction!)

    We pick apart a movie or TV show, identifying themes, images, dialogue, etc so that we can pull some meaning out of it. We listen for specific words or lines in music that help us understand what a song is about, what its message is supposed to be. We do the same thing with people as well. We spend a lot of time sorting people into nice, neat little boxes for the purposes of identification. We sort people based on their religion, gender, politics, sexuality, race, age, socio-economic status, etc.

    Think about it this way: Have you ever been talking about an actor or musician before, and someone is quick to point out "You know they're gay, right?" This is especially revealing when you were saying "I love this song," or "He's a good actor." Does their sexuality have anything to do with the quality of the music or film? We reduce people to one aspect of their identity, and often times don't give ourselves mental permission to let them out of one or two boxes.

    This often leads to a lot of assumptions, too. Just because someone is gay, doesn't mean they can't also be a Republican. Or that they are automatically for gay marriage. Or that they're sexually active. Obviously, we're talking about stereotypes here. By defining people in a certain way, and using those definitions to deconstruct and categorize, we're limiting them. But it gives us a sense of control. Knowledge. Something upon which to base decisions.

    An example from SafeZone: My friend Jackie looks like everybody's grandma. White hair, sweet disposition, wears her glasses on a chain. You just know she wants to bake you cookies. She also wears a gold cross around her neck. It's easy to put her into a mental box as a sweet little old retiree granny type. Putting her in that particular box might mean you wouldn't swear around her, or wouldn't bring up topics like being gay. She's got white hair and wears a cross, so that conversation couldn't possibly go well, right? Until you find out her son is gay and that she can swear like a sailor.

    We like to believe we understand the world around us. Largely because if we know where to place everyone and everything else, it helps us figure out where to place ourselves. Where WE "fit in." And that's really where the sense of knowledge and control come from: knowing where we stand in relation to "other." This category of people feels this way about this issue, so I won't be around those people or discuss that issue with them. Wouldn't it be amazing if we talked it through instead, and learned that today a majority of Americans support employment protection for GLBT people? And perhaps we could change the minds of people about some things.

    I've heard about so many people who start viewing a group differently when they find out someone they care about is a part of it. When you know someone who's black, it's harder to be scared or nervous when walking past an African American on the street. It's harder to oppose gay marriage or civil unions when one of your kids comes out. It's not because there's something different about the person or group. It's because we've broken down the little boxes into which we place them. After all, how many of you fit neatly into one or two categories?

    Next time - The Oppression Olympics: How these categories are used to keep us from working towards unity.

    Tuesday, July 24, 2007

    Definition by negation

    I've had several folks from my past come back into my life recently, and it prompted a conversation last night. It was a lengthy and weighty conversation about unity, humanity, fear, control, and perception. For the next few posts, I want to share with you some of the more important points. It really will lead/connect back to our usual gayness, I promise.

    I learned something in Senior Seminar with the English Department. Language, words, and most symbols are all quite arbitrary. There is nothing inherent about a tree that says "the word for me is tree." Think about the myriad of languages that exist in the world today, and those that have "died out" in the past. They all have different words that represent "tree." We have chosen arbitrary words and arbitrary spellings in order to communicate with one another. The combination of letters t, r, e, and e doesn't have anything to do with what makes up a tree, where it grows, etc. They are connected only because of a mutual agreement and understanding that gives us a mental picture of a tree.

    There are problems with this, of course. When I read or hear the word tree, I might envision a pine tree. Sharp needles, rough bark, tall, hearty, and green year round. Someone standing next to me, hearing or seeing the exact same word, might picture an aspen tree. Dormant over the winter months, smooth bark, broad leaves, and changing colors throughout the year. If we were both to describe the process for climbing the tree, uses for the wood, the smells, the textures, etc...we would probably be on two different pages, though the books would be related. It's why you learn about things like "specificity of language" in school. It helps to remove some of this confusion.

    But how do create the image for tree in our heads? How do we know what a tree IS? We create a definition by what something is NOT. "Tree" is not "cat." It's not rock, or river. It's not a taco, and so on. Because "tree" can be more than one thing to us, we only what it means in relation to what it isn't. With words or images, this can be fairly simple.

    We can only define things based on our own knowledge and experience. If you see the word "Hund," you cannot pull meaning from it unless you have something filed away in the rolodex of your brain that matches it. In this case, it's a word in German. If you've never learned German, you won't have much luck searching your mental databases. If you're lucky, a word will be similar to something else. (For the geeks in the room, these are called cognates.) Hund looks and sounds like the word "hound," and means dog. I can usually pull some meaning out of something I read in Dutch, because the written language is similar enough to German that I can make educated guesses about the meaning it's trying to convey. We create definitions through comparison.

    The problem with this is that we do the same thing with people. We're quick to create distinctions about "other." Black vs. white. Republican vs. Democrat. Young vs. old. Jewish vs. Muslim vs. Hindu. We assign these labels to people quickly and easily, and use them to define that which is different from "us" or "me." We focus on these differences, even though there are far more similarities to be found. No matter the color of your skin, most people are born with the same number of toes, fingers, eyes, etc. We have different blood types, but they're made of the same thing. Yet we continually focus on what separates us or sets us apart. More often, we focus on what sets someone else apart. They are not like us in X way, so they are "different" or "not normal."

    We then assign value to "normal." "Was the baby born normal?" "Why can't I have a normal job?" "Is that normal?" And normal is always defined in relation to ourselves. It doesn't matter if a majority of people in the world are not "white," that is considered "normal" to us in the US. Normalcy is like us, largely because we want to believe that we are like others, that we are normal and that we are operating in the natural state and ways.

    Think about how you define things around you, and then how you define the people around you. How do you describe someone if they're not present. "You know Linus, the guy in the kilt." "Squid, the one with pink hair." "Big Gay Jim." Don't we use the differences as a basis for ruling out the things we're NOT describing? At what point do those differences become a definition? And do you want a part of you, one singular difference, to define you? Am I ONLY gay?

    Coming next - Control: Why do we feel the need to categorize everything and everyone?

    Monday, July 16, 2007

    So many things...

    ...to write about, yet none of them grab my attention solidly. But since the Rev already moved me to the sinners list (the paperwork delay in the Black Vatican is getting SHORT!), I better post something. So here's a buffet of my thoughts, as it were:
  • This weekend's camping trip was a LOT of fun. There was some question as to whether or not we'd even go, as most folks couldn't make it. Mark almost called the trip off, but decided at the last minute to see how it went. Everything happens for a reason. He was reminded of the reason behind several of the "usual" things or "things we always do." Example: He didn't put up any lights in the middle of camp. Result: bugs followed us to the campfire. He put up one lone decoy light near main camp and the bugs went for it.
  • I'm anxiously watching to see what the US Senate does with "The Matthew Shepard Act," also known as "The Hate Crimes Bill," "Senate Bill 1105," or "The Local Law Enforcement Enhancement Act." The House passed it and I want the Senate to follow suit. Bush is threatening to veto it. Elizabeth Edwards called him out about this weekend at a campaign event for her hubby. It was also nice to see so many Presidential hopefuls listed as cosponsors of the measure.
  • Next weekend is Global Dance. I'm super excited, as Tiesto, BT, and Kostas are all playing. Several other folks as well, but those are the names I'm most excited about.
  • I am in full-on getting-ready-for-Fall-semester mode at work. This is about a month earlier than previous years, and I'm not liking that trend. Or going to work these days.
  • My summer wedding season starts this month. This year I only have 2 to attend, however. I'm doing music for Brendon and Tara in August. Tara mentioned wanting Marti to do it, but we'll see is she still feels that way sober...and what Brendon has to say. More on that later.
  • My friend Bob is in the hospital again. He's okay, but you know me. I'm a professional worrier. Think good thoughts, and wish him up some white blood cells. He's used his up for the time being.
  • I need to get more done on the house! I'm trying to relax and do fun things on weekends so that I don't lose what's left of my mind. Sadly, summer is FLYING by (spending almost every weekend in June out of town didn't help), and I'm POOPED when I come home from work during the week. Being a responsible adult is hard sometimes.
  • I got to see my friend Alicia last week, which was BEYOND awesome. We hadn't seen each other in 8 years. We started talking and catching up like nothing had happened. It was REALLY nice to relive old times, talk about old profs, and marvel at how old we've become. She also knew Matt, and it was nice to talk with someone who understands what happened to him in the same way I do. She knew him, was here when he was killed, spoke to people about it, still gets upset when someone says something without realizing, etc. I missed ya, babe, and am glad we've reconnected!
  • I need to get the oil changed in the car, and get the back door fixed. Again, with the responsible adult bullshit.

    I'm really grateful for close friends. Whether it was 5 of us hanging out by the lake this weekend, someone dropping off a present for the camping trip before I left, the all-time greatest puppy/house-sitter of all times coming through ONCE again, someone mowing your lawn and staying for 3 more hours just to chill, someone calling just to say hi, or any of the myriad other ways my friends (read: family) enrich my life. You guys rock. Though some people might think I say it too often, I'm of the opinion you can't say it enough. So thanks, all.
  • Tuesday, July 03, 2007

    The simple things

    I've been slogging through a stack of paperwork and "to do's" at work today. I've been thinking about what tomorrow means to me. From a patriotic stance, and also because tomorrow marks the 5 year anniversary of my mother's death. Her own Independence Day, as it were. Not the most thrilling or exciting days, to be sure. So there I sat, pondering what to do for my lunch hour. I could go outside and read, spin poi/flags, go out to eat, go home for lunch, do some last minute shopping...and then my MSN lit up at me.

    As it turns out, the Squid twisted my arm like the bully she is. ;) When she was off work, I met her at Flock Hall 2.0 for leftovers and refreshments. She had to stay home waiting for the FedEx man to deliver plane tickets for Tessa, and we both decided company was in order. It also means I got to see FH2.0 for the first time. Nice digs, kids! Gay approved, and I'm seriously jealous of the Rev's new lair. *waggles eyebrows* Maybe, if we get him drunk enough, he'll give me a tour...

    So here I sit, back at work. And the meaning of tomorrow isn't as daunting. I already have several offers for plans, and know I'll find a way to have some fun and get into trouble. The rest of it will fall into place, and I'll learn whatever lessons present themselves. At some point, I'll feel sad. Mostly, I'll feel happy. That's what lunch with Squid reminded today. Surround yourself with good people, fill yourself with good intention, and enjoy the simple things that unfold.

    Even some leftover noodles, bottled pasta sauce, and leftover crab cakes (I am SO glad Tessa is back!) can turn into the most wonderful afternoon diversion. Just catching up with someone, even when you see them often, can be relaxing. And every now and then, take a moment to stop and enjoy things at a slower pace. No music, no tv. Stay in. Sit for a moment. Let it all soak in.

    Thanks, Squid. And Universe.

    Tuesday, June 19, 2007

    They're just THINGS

    So I went "camping" this last weekend with the Denver gang. Jet skis, party islands, electricity in your tent if you wanted/needed...and our own AMAZING DJ creating music for us live around the campfire until the wee hours of the morning. It was more fun than I can even put into words. For the most part, the weather was perfect, the company was a helluva lot of fun, and (needless to say) there wasn't a whole lot of sobriety. Just the relaxing, let-your-hair-down kind of get-a-way I needed.

    There was a bit of a blemish on the trip, however. Sunday morning a friend borrowed my car to run down the road a half mile or so to use "the facilities." I had set a volleyball set and my kite bag on top of the car so they wouldn't get damaged when packing everything back in the car for the drive home. My friend didn't notice this fact. When I took a load up to the car, I did. And panicked. After confirming the bag hadn't been moved to safety, I jumped in the car to look for it frantically.

    Five different people were involved in the search mission. Despite only having about a half mile of terrain to cover and having noticed the loss within 30-45 minutes, they were nowhere to be found. I was, of course, quite upset. The bag was worth between $500 and $600, and most of the kites are no longer made. But it was the sentimental value that hurt me more.

    The Prism Fanatic was the first REAL kite I ever bought, and was my "big" keepsake from the California road trip with Nerdy and Mandyfish. I bought the High Level, a German kite, from the Rev, who had flown it for years...and I was thrilled to own a piece of his own kiting history. The 3D (a low-wind kite), the Spirit (a quad-line kite I never actually got to fly), and the Prism bag itself were bought from someone on the kiting forum. I had a small single line delta Jace gave me, and a new cheapy dual line that made the perfect "learning" kite for friends. It cost $10, so it didn't matter if someone killed it in a blaze of newbie glory. Add in the line sets, winders, handles, etc. and there was not only a lot money and memories in the bag, but also a lot of time and prep work. Gone. In an instant.

    My friend felt VERY bad about the loss, and I was doing my best not to be bitter, as I knew it was an honest mistake and not something malicious or intentional. But still...I was NOT happy. It was NOT the ending I had envisioned to an otherwise spectacular trip. As I drove home from Wheatland, I was almost in tears, but tried to remind myself of something very important. Something my mother had always tried to teach me.

    They were just...things. THINGS can be replaced. People and friendships cannot. The memories were connected to the things, but not contained in them. I still have the memories. And I'm certain that one day I will again experience the peace, joy, and relaxation that comes from dancing a kite through the difficult Wyoming skies. There will be other kites, and new memories. Everything else is just details.

    This, of course, is much easier to say and more difficult to FEEL. I'm still VERY unhappy and saddened by the loss of the bag. I'm certain someone drove along the road and found the bags. I have reported them to just about every agency in Platte County, Wheatland, and anyone remotely connected to Gray Rocks. But if they haven't been turned in yet, I'm not certain they will be. That saddens me, as I would like to believe there are still honest people in the world. But if they aren't turned in and I never see my babies again, I at least hold this one hope: that whomever has them finds a much fun and peace in the strings, sticks, and nylon as I did. That they create their own memories and take good care of them, as I tried to do. At least that would give me some smattering of peace about it.

    Today's lesson is a tough one: some lessons are very hard to learn, and it's much easier to help others learn than to deal with our own lessons. It truly is easier said than done. Lesson #2: Good friends will usually surround you, ready to simply say "That fucking sucks!" and be there to distract, console, and comfort you when you need it. Thanks, gang!

    Wednesday, June 13, 2007

    The military has lost its damn mind

    I had really intended to leave my Cindy Lauper post up until next week when I could make an update about this weekend's gay camping trip. But then I got an email this morning that SCREAMED to be placed on my blog. The scary part: it's real. I'm not sure anyone could actually make this shit up. So check out the link below real the full story, and even watch a tv news clip about it.

    Pentagon Confirms It Sought to Build a "Gay Bomb"

    That's right...they researched the possibility of making a bomb that would turn the enemy GAY. Some choice quotes from the article, just to make sure you all read the article:

    As part of a military effort to develop non-lethal weapons, the proposal suggested, "One distasteful but completely non-lethal example would be strong aphrodisiacs, especially if the chemical also caused homosexual behavior."

    The Ohio Air Force lab proposed that a bomb be developed that contained a chemical that would cause enemy soldiers to become gay, and to have their units break down because all their soldiers became irresistibly attractive to one another.


    And my favorite:
    ...it uncovered a strange U.S. military proposal to create a hormone bomb that could purportedly turn enemy soldiers into homosexuals and make them more interested in sex than fighting.

    I have a few places I'd like to drop such a bomb...think of the millions of hot men we could turn gay instantly. Rev, Brendon, Mark, Smith...beware! No longer will my only hope be a 6 pack of beer or bottle of tequila... Then it's off to Hollywood to convert Matt Damon, Colin Farrell, Heath Ledger, Brad Pitt (sorry Mandy), and all the rest of the hunks we lust after. They'll all be mine. Mine, I tell you, all mine! *maniacal laughter*

    PLEASE...I want to see your thoughts on this, so leave me a comment about the article!

    Monday, June 11, 2007

    Once upon a time...

    ...there was a butterfly moth. A BIG one. He lived in Colorado, and one night in June found himself flitting about at Red Rocks. You see, Cyndi Lauper was performing, and he couldn't help but enjoy the music. So the moth flew right down onto the stage, buzzing about the lights, zipping around the speakers, and darting around the drums. The drummer noticed him, and smiled at him as flew in circles and v's and figure eights. The vibrations and lights excited him. But it also confused him somewhat.

    For almost ten minutes the moth flew around, dancing and investigating. But then something frightening happened. He wasn't sure if he flew too close to the lights, or too close to a speaker, but soon he found himself on the ground at the front of the stage, right next to a speaker. Something had stunned him, and he couldn't fly. He didn't know what to do, so he sat there waiting...trying to gather his strength and find his bearings. Then maybe he would be able to fly away again.

    Many people had seen him, as he was easy to spot in the lights, though it was late and very dark outside. But most on the stage hadn't noticed him. And then a kind blonde woman (the crowd kept calling her Cyndi) noticed him after finishing one of her songs. "Oh...he's hurt or something. Poor thing!" she said. She began her next song, but was very careful not to step on him or hurt the moth. She went back to check on him, and though she was wearing a very nice purple dress, she got down on her hands and knees to look him over more careful. She even talked to him, and told him that she'd try to take care of him, and that he should stay where he was, as he was out of the way for the time being. She even told the crowd she was worried about him.

    During the next song, a nice man crept onto the stage behind the nice blonde woman. Using a cup and piece of paper, he careful scooped up the moth and carried him to safety, hoping to release him to safety. It had been both an exciting and frightening night for our friend the moth. He was so surprised that someone so big as the blonde woman, who was in the middle of a very big concert, would take time to stop and worry about a simple moth like him. And so he smiled a mothy smile...and felt special and loved.
    ****
    Yes, this really happened last night at the True Colors concert. Cyndi Lauper cared about a moth, albeit a really BIG moth. At first, it looked almost like a bat. But that's what the concert was all about, really. Being nice to other people. Being yourself and letting other people (and moths, apparently) be who they really are. It was oddly touching, and is one of the little things a shama-wicca-paga-druid notices and pays attention to. Today's lesson: be kind to those in need, no matter how many legs (or wings) they use to get around. Simple acts of kindness make a difference, and not always to those who are being helped. You never know who's watching, and who will be touched.

    PS...a HUGE shout out to Max and Brittany, who drove me to and from the concert. Oh yeah...and let me use one of their spare tickets...IN ROW 8!!! I was in a queer child of the 80's bliss all night long.

    Thursday, June 07, 2007

    Dear Mother Nature

    I realize that I still reside at 7200 feet. However, it is June. I should not walk from my car to the building in SNOW! Knock that shit off, right now.

    PS...thank you for not killing anyone with the 4 tornadoes that touched down in Campbell County last night. The last big one was enough for Wright to cope with.

    Monday, June 04, 2007

    Elphie and me

    This weekend I traveled to the Southern half of the Rainbow Kingdom for a special event...WICKED!!! I left Saturday morning after a late Friday night in town with some of the crew. The trip started on a sour note when we learned Scotty can't count. He bought the tickets months ago...and informed me we had tickets for the show on Jun 2. So Jerry got tickets for the same night for himself and Chuck. We were SO excited! Scotty's folks were down for the show too, as it was a birthday present for Mom. It was going to be C's first time at a Broadway show (virgin!). Then the unthinkable happened: Scotty read the tickets and discovered they were for the show on Jun 3! I was NOT a happy camper, as I wanted to see the show with Chuck and Jerry too. While drinking margaritas to dull the pain, I repeated to myself "Everything happens for a reason. This is not the end of the world. We will make it work. Everything happens for a reason..."

    And we had a fabulous weekend anyway. Cocktails, dinners, cocktails, BBQ's, and cocktails...and in no time it was Sunday night. We had decent seats in the mezzanine, great company, and it was closing night of the show. IT WAS BEYOND FIERCE! Phantom has always been my favorite show. Then I discovered Rent, and it moved me in ways Phantom never could. And then Elphie came into my life. I've read the book and memorized the OBC album, so I was well-informed going into the theater. I wasn't ready to fall so deeply in love with this show.

    Perhaps even more so than the book (which is SO rare for me), the musical resonated with my life and soul. Elphies struggles for acceptance and constantly being the outsider. The taunts and snickers from her peers. The pain of loss and search for identity. The beauty of finding a true friend who understands and accepts you no matter what. The fighting between dearest friends only to come back together over and over again. Appearances are deceiving. Rising above the challenges and working to make a difference in the world around you. I'd say that I want to be Elphie when I grow up, but the truth is that I'm already her.

    Naturally I raced out during intermission (right after Elphie sings "Defying Gravity," my FAVORITE song) and immediately overspent at the merchandise kiosk, as I NEEDED more. And that's where today's lesson comes from, gentle readers. It pays to be a nice person. At the upstairs "Ozdust Boutique," I waited while an obviously tired clerk did his best to meet the demand for t-shirts, posters, and trinkets. I bought the hat, the glasses, the Grimmerie, and the photo book. He sensed my enthusiasm for the show (and probably noticed my puffy, bloodshot eyes from where I'd been moved to tears...for the 3rd time), and smiled. While he bagged and rang up my goodies, we chatted about what an amazing job the cast was doing, how FABulous the script and score are, and how glad I was to be there.

    That's when he quietly asked "You know where the stage door, is right?" I didn't, but knew what it meant. Cast autographs. He gave me directions, and tips on catching the stars when they were out of makeup (Elphie is 6 feet tall, Glinda is a tiny little brunette with an Italian accent). I quickly found Scotty's mom, Sue, to tell her we had the inside scoop if she was willing to wait around a bit after the show. Armed with a pen in her purse and the soundtrack echoing in our heads, we headed out after the final curtain. Without too much trouble, we found the magical door...and a VERY gracious cast. We were there for about an hour after the show, waiting for the last of the talent to head out. Sue's eyes were glowing, my hands were shaking, and Dad and the boys were having fun watching us.

    All because we took the time to be nice to the man behind the counter. Sometimes, it's important to pay attention to the man behind the curtain. So remember this as you go about your day: the "little people" matter too. Be nice to everyone. It is, after all, one of the themes of my new favorite musical. Sorry, Phantom.

    Friday, June 01, 2007

    Got Pride?

    It's officially June. For most people that means it's now summer. For about 10% of the population, it also means Pride month! Parades, vendors, drink specials, and amazing parties. And to think it all started because of a riot. On June 27th, 1969 patrons at the Stonewall in New York had their fill of repeated police violence and persecution. That night, some of the butch lesbians and drag queens, the outside fringe of what passwed for a queer community at the time, fought back when the police came in for their regular raid. They fought back when the cops tried to rough them up and drag them off to jail.

    The next year, a parade was held to celebrate what most regard as the birth of the modern gay rights movement. And June has never been the same. For me, it's a chance to recharge my gay batteries. It's also a time to remember how far we've come. Colorado will now include employment protection for people based on sexual orientation OR gender identity. New Hampshire is now the first state to create civil unions without a judicial mandate to do so. It's amazing how our rights have expanded in the last 3 years, despite amazing opposition and political roadblocks.

    There will be more to discuss about Pride over the next 30 days, but today's lesson is simple. Take a moment and simply be proud of who you are. Who you were. Who you have become. Obviously, anyone reading MY blog must be a cool person and deserves to be proud. And I'm proud of you. Gay, straight, lesbian, bi, queer, trans, or somewhere in between. Smart, simple, heavy, thin, bold, meek...it doesn't matter. Just be the best YOU that you can be. And revel in it.

    There are still far too many in our country and in our world today who are not allowed to do so. People who are silenced, physically, spiritually, or metaphorically.

    I'm SO proud of YOU!

    Friday, May 25, 2007

    Memorial Day

    Well, it's finally time for a three day weekend where I don't have to use a vacation day. I am, of course, heading to Denver for the extended weekend. As always, may thanks are due to the Rev for watching the puppies. And a shout out to my new lawn boy, Squid. (She's already the house boy, but agreed to take on additional responsibilities for a bump in pay. ;) The pool is due to open this weekend, and there are literally thousands of queers in Denver this weekend for tournaments, meetings, and conferences (oh, my!): volleyball, square dancing, rodeo, darts, and more! I've been looking forward to the start of pool season in Denver, as it signals the start of summer for me. Let the good times roll, as they say!

    Memorial Day is also something more to me. For many, it's a time to remember the men and women who defend our country and keep us safe by serving in the military. A chance to remember those who have fallen. I do that today. I think about the many relatives (two uncles, my father, grandparents, cousins...) who have served with honor and distinction. I think about those in Iraq or Afghanistan, and hope they are safe. I mourn for every life lost...and not just American lives, for the record.

    I also think about the men and women who are serving in silence because they are GLBT. I think about the almost 60 Arabic translators who've been fired recently because they were "caught" and "discovered" as queer. I think about C and Kate, who've given their whole lives to service. I think about Tim, who was prepared to do the same, but was discharged because of who he loves. And it angers me. There are thousands of GLBT Americans who are willing to put their lives on the line for this country and her citizens. Yet they are told "no" because they might disrupt "unit cohesion." It seems so pointless and discriminatory to me.

    Memorial Day is also about remembering all those who have departed this spinning ball of rock. Mom. Matt. Uncle Ed. Each of them touched lives in their own way. They left their mark on the world, and certainly the people around them. I believe that so much of us is made up of our experiences and the people with whom we surround ourselves. They are all a part of me. Though they have passed, they are not gone by any stretch of the imagination. They live on in the stories we share about their lives. They live in the love we hold for them, and the space we will always keep for them in our hearts.

    So today, I pause for a moment to simply remember. And say thank you to those who have gone before. Who have taught me. Changed me. Supported me. Inspired me. I say thank you to the Universe for bringing them into my life and teaching me that they will never truly leave my life. And thank you for the people who are still here with us today. May we learn even more and meet many more amazing people.

    Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal. - From a headstone in Ireland

    Tuesday, May 15, 2007

    Farewell to Falwell

    The Universe sent me a message today. Kristen needed a copy of her resume from her computer. When I opened her IE to send the email, her home page (MSNBC) popped up, and I read that Jerry Falwell had been found unconscious. I followed the story for the next hour, when I read this:

    http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18679412

    Well, a shortened version, as it was the very first report that he had, in fact, died. I didn't feel sad. But I also didn't feel glad. I just pretty much didn't feel anything. Other than a sense that this is very important news and I should tell people. A few text messages and IM's informed the folks I figured would know who he is and care enough to not to say "So why are you telling me?"

    I had a few responses. Jerry. Greg. Linus. Nobody else seemed sad either. Odd that. And then Jess sent me this:

    http://www.tmz.com/2007/05/15/jerry-falwell-1933-2007/

    I freely admit I smirked. Then giggled. And I didn't feel guilty about it, either. I also read the first 6 pages of comments about the post. They were interesting, for certain. And it raised the question in my mind: Did it make me a bad person that I found a joke about someone's death amusing, if not funny? Jaded? Bitter? And I didn't have an answer. Surely it's not right to laugh at a person's death. I don't wish pain on him, and even as I write this I hope it was swift and peaceful. I've witnessed an ugly death, and don't have enough hate in my heart to wish that even on Phelps, whom I consider to be one of the most evil and foul people I've ever encountered. I was simple at loss for an answer.

    But here's what I do know. I know he claimed the Anti-Christ was a male Jew who was already alive. (He later apologized for the remark...not the belief.) I know at one of the most painful times in our country's history, he had the gaul to call it God's wrath. And to blame "homosexuals and feminists" and "abortionists." For September 11th. (He later apologized. Again...for the remark.) I know queer people who were kicked out of their homes because of his words and actions. Their churches. I know of others who tried to kill themselves. And some who succeeded. I know how much pain he has caused, and some of it is my own.

    I admit much of the pain was caused by him only indirectly. He didn't directly tell me to hate myself. But he told people who told people, and they told people, and so on. And someone told my mother. And my Pastor. And most of my teachers. And firends. I truly believe that much of it was unintentional. I do NOT believe that he WANTS us to kill ourselves. I don't believe he WANTS us to be homeless. I don't believe he WANTS us to be beaten. Or murdered. I think he just doesn't want us to BE. At the very least, he wants us to be something other than we are.

    All I wanted for you in life was enlightenment, Jerry. My beliefs tell me that you now have that. So I forgive you. Now please do what you can to help us fix it. I'll keep trying too. Peace to you.

    Friday, May 04, 2007

    I hate goodbyes

    The end of any semester will cause increased stress at a college or university. Final exams, papers, presentation, group projects... But the end of a Spring semester brings with it a special kind of bittersweet stress: the goodbye. Working at UW for the last umpteen years hasn't made it any easier.

    I have watching people come and go. Countless friends have left town to begin their own "grown-up" lives. To start careers. To travel around the world. To join the Peace Corps. To get married. For whatever reason, people leave. It's the nature of the beast at institutions of higher learning. And it's always hard on people, myself included. This year is another tough one.

    One of the biggest perks I enjoy is watching students grow and develop during their time here. Who knows...I may have even helped one or two of them do so. ;) They grow up right before my eyes. They find passion, they become involved, they learn, they speak up. I've watched Travis graduate twice now. He became a leader on campus, and helped secure the future of many groups on campus. Scotty used to look down his nose at "the rainbow queers" who were "in your face" and "pushy." Then he joined the Spectrum board, AIDS Walk, and is looking at a career helping AIDS patients. Keith was one of Travis' "straight" friends. Now he's come out to his parents and helped coordinate some amazing queer events on campus. But now it's time for Travis to become a lawyer, Scotty a personal trainer, and Keith a full-time nerd at the AHC. It's the way it needs to be. We all have to continue to "become."

    They also become family. That's what really makes the leaving so difficult. I'll miss the random phone calls to meet someone for a martini at Tommy Jacks or a fishbowl at Mingles. I'll miss bottles of wine and our favorite TV show. I'll miss planning events and wondering how in the world we're gonna pull something off. I'll miss lunches at Sweet Melissa's or listening to a friend at Jefferey's. I'll miss seeing people on a regular basis. Miss the ability to get together randomly on a moment's notice when one of us has had a bad day...or needs to celebrate. Seeing Kristen at the Cowboy. Hearing Scotty's laugh in the office.

    The logical part of my brain tells me that leaving doesn't always mean an end. Phones exist. Most folks aren't moving across the continent, but it sure as hell feels that way. I travel. They can travel too. Visits are possible. But I'm not sure I'm ready for things to change. AGAIN. And the logical part of my brain isn't really in control right now. It's my heart, which is once again aching at the thought of people drifting out of my life, even if it's slowly. There are so many who have left before, and we talk once or twice a year. We email once in a blue moon. When we do, we still feel that connection, that link. The family-ness. But it's different. Disconnected somehow, or at least strained. When we catch up, it's the guilt you feel for not knowing or being there when something bad happened. It's the disappointment for not being there to celebrate and share in the good times. For me, it's mostly about not having a part of my everyday life that I've come to depend on.

    I don't have an answer for you all today, or even any sage wisdom. I'm feeling at a loss this time of year, as I always do. Amazing people moving on, and moving forward, is a good thing. But it still hurts. And then again, maybe that IS wisdom. Let it hurt a little. Be a little sad. Be a little worried. The pain and the fear of loss is a reminder to hold on to what you have. And a sign that you've been doing something right. Otherwise it wouldn't hurt so much when good people leave.

    I love you with all my heart.

    Tuesday, April 24, 2007

    Thursday, April 12, 2007

    I'm starting to get pissed

    Alright, this is getting old. I'm listening to news story after news story about another debate over gay marriage, civil unions, domestic partnerships, and voting. The conservatives, most recently in California, are saying that the will of the people is that we "protect" marriage, families, and our traditional American values from the evil homos.

    In California, they're saying that the State Supreme Court's invalidation of the San Francisco Marriages proves you can't ignore "the will of the people." This argument has been used a lot recently, and is part of the reason so many states had initiatives on the ballot. There's just one problem with this theory.

    THE RIGHTS OF A MINORITY SHOULD NOT BE DETERMINED BY A VOTE OF THE MAJORITY.

    Thomas Jefferson said "All, too, will bear in mind this sacred principle, that though the will of the majority is in all cases to prevail, that will, to be rightful, must be reasonable;that the minority possess their equal rights, which equal laws must protect, and to violate would be oppression."

    If we left the rights of the minority up to a popular vote, we would have far fewer ballots to count. Women would not have the right to vote. African Americans wouldn't either. Millions of people of color were able to become US citizens in the first immigration amnesty in 1986. They now have the right to vote, but had the decision been left to the electorate, I doubt that they, their spouses, and their children would hold the power of the lever today.

    We might still have slavery. Or Prohibition. I'm certain that bi-racial or inter-racial couples wouldn't have the right to marry in most places. Would our schools still be segregated? Women would not have the right to make decisions about their own bodies, though that right is slowly being whittled away too. Would we have a state religion, determined by which faith boasts the most followers at the time?

    Our history is full of examples where the will of the majority was clear...and it was wrong. I'm tempted to make comparisons to Germany in the 1930's and 40's. The will of the majority was also clear there, but it didn't mean that it was correct. Or humane. Or even human. The similarities seem obvious, but if I make those assertions, how many people would stop listening or accuse me of inflating the issue? What about South Africa and Apartheid? Ghandi and the English colonization of India?

    Our country first claimed its independence because the controlling government was treating them as second class citizens. They were being taxed unfairly and did not have representation in the government. I pay into Social Security just like my heterosexual friends. But if I die, my partner cannot receive a survivor benefit. Inherited assets such as a house or bank accounts are taxed at a higher rate because we are not married. Health benefits are not accessible. And how long was it before we had openly queer representation in the Federal government? How many states still don't have legislators, city councilmen/women, governors, mayors, etc. who are openly queer? How many had to wait until AFTER an election to do so? Is this not taxation without representation?

    I'm not advocating for a violent revolution or an overthrow of the government. I'm simply fed up with the argument that because the polling and vote tallies say most people believe x, y, or z about gay people or their rights, that's the way things should be. History has tried countless times to teach us that the rights of the minority cannot be entrusted solely to the ballot box. It's up to elected officials, legislators, heterosexual allies, and activists. And it's up to so-called activist judges. During the women's rights movement, the civil rights movement, and even before, the term "activist judge" has been used when the courts step in to protect the rights of the few from the will of the many. In other words, when they do their job.

    Perhaps this is why we don't let the public majority vote on a person's innocence or guilt. Perhaps it's why we don't vote on budgets. Why we have rules about the separation of Church and State. Why we have the Bill of Rights. Why the term "inalienable rights" is part of the American vocabulary. It's about checks and balances. The three branches of our government working together to create a bright future and a stable present. Maybe this is just a Judicial check balancing out the power that the Executive and Legislative branches have denied the population too long, along with a few Legislative efforts to do the same.

    I'd rather the government do what's right instead of what's popular. I know they know how to do that, or we wouldn't still be involved in a war in Iraq with the threat of another in Iran. While it's not popular, we're told that the decision to stay there is right. Let's end the double standards, shall we? I leave you today, gentle readers, with another quote and another example of history trying to teach us from our own mistakes. From a labor activist who died in 1926.

    "When great changes occur in history, when great principles are involved, as a rule the majority are wrong. The minority are right." - Eugene Debs

    Tuesday, April 10, 2007

    Guess what?!

    Well, I've know since St. Patrick's Day. I leaked to some people since then. But now I officially have clearance to publicly announce something. On St. Patty's Day, I received this photo:


    That's right folks. I'm gonna be an aunt. Again. The due date is November 23rd. We don't KNOW if it's a boy or girl, and the kiddies don't plan to find out. However, the first time Sue (that'd be my sister, for the unaware) was POSITIVE she was having a girl, as was the Chinese baby predictor thing, which is apparently 90-some% accurate. This time, Sue is POSITIVE it's a boy, and the Chinese baby predictor thing says so too. So around Turkey Day, I'll have a nephew (or another niece). WOOT!

    Friday, April 06, 2007

    I'm alive

    Hey all,
    I've been home sick for a few days, so I apologize for the lack of contact/communication. The quick update: the Matthew Shepard Bear Dinner in Denver was AMAZING. I even managed to buy an autographed Margaret Cho poster in the auction. Time to buy another frame! AIDS Walk is VERY rapidly apporaching. So much to shave, so little time! New boots, new wig, and new outfits that arrived yesterday! Can't wait! Bitches had best be there!
    I'll leave you now with a video my friend Greg sent me. It's TOO cute.
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dXGj_-orxw

    Tuesday, March 20, 2007

    The Soundtrack to Phelps' Brain

    So I was out on MySpace, checking on a friend's page. He posted about a website listing music that promotes being queer, or is otherwise homo-friendly. It lists safe groups and dangerous groups.

    Among the naughty groups/artists: Cole Porter, the Grateful Dead, Barry Manilow, Morrissey, The Doors, and Frank Sinatra. (And of course Elton John, Indigo Girls, Melissa Etheridge, Madonna, Cher, etc.)

    Among the safe groups: Dresden Dolls, Blondie, Cyndi Lauper, Cheap Trick, and Evanescence.

    Someone had commented on the blog post, and mentioned that Donnie, the "gentleman" that is maintaining the list, also has a music video out there. Since I believe in keeping friends close and enemies closer, I thought I'd be a sport and take a listen. I'm not sure Fred Phelps could have written a better (read: more bigotted, horrifying, insane, etc.) ditty. It's called The Bible Says. Warning: If you're not ready to hear "God Hates Fags" done as Christian pop, do NOT follow the link. I admit...there's something disconcerting about a sugary beat proclaiming "If you're a fag, he hates you too..."

    This is proof that the human capacity for stupidity is truly limitless.

    Thursday, March 15, 2007

    Posting for posting's sake

    I apologize for the lack of posts lately. Between sickness, Jerry's 50th birthday party in Denver, AIDS Walk, and life in general it's been a busy time. Sometimes I hate "Spring." ;) I don't have anything thought provoking to share today. I've been busting ass on cleaning up some AIDS Walk reservation messes, and to be honest, I'm tired. So there it is...too tired to post anything substantive. I did want to share one piece of news with the faithful readers, though.

    The position at the Matthew Shepard Foundation has been filled, but was not posted. And no...it isn't me. If you don't know what this means, what I'm talking about, etc. that's okay. :) For those who do, I'm doing okay (thanks to Jess, Andrew, Scotty, and Linus for helping me get/stay that way). I'm just repeating to myself "the universe will provide" and watching for whatever comes along next.

    That is all.

    Wednesday, February 21, 2007

    Why is insurance so scary?

    Begin rant.

    In the Kentucky senate, a committee voted 8-0 to ban any extension of benefits to same-sex partners for state employees. (Read more here.) While I think it's discriminatory and wrong, I can at least understand the logic of states who have decided to prohibit gay marriage or civil unions. I can at least understand the (erroneous) assumptions and (irrational) fear hyper-conservatives are using in these cases. But this move in Kentucky is the latest in a new and baffling step in the lunacy of our nation's increasing gay panic.

    This law would mean that universities, such as the University of Louisville, would not be ALLOWED to extend health insurance and other partner benefits to same-sex partners. The University of Kentucky plans to extend such benefits in the Spring too. The same thing happened in Michigan, where the issue is now on its way to the state supreme court. I just don't understand how a few more people having health insurance is bad for a state. Or how it hurts "traditional" marriage. Or how a state can justify preventing people for paying to get insurance. Isn't having a larger pool of members good for an insurance group? Isn't access to health care supposed to be a pretty damned good idea no matter who you are? And for the record, only 8 people signed up when the University of Louisville offered the benefit. It's not going to break the bank, folks.

    Would such legislation even be considered if sexual orientation weren't the issue? What if we tried to say state employees, including university and school district employees, couldn't put their partner on their insurance if they were Asian? Or Methodist? If you can afford health insurance, you should be allowed access to it. Of course, I'm also just crazy enough to think that EVERYONE should have access to health care and/or insurance, not just those who can currently afford it.

    I just don't understand why health insurance, a library card, access to the gym, or reduced tuition rates are such a scary thing to uber-conservatives. "My god...if they get Blue Cross/Blue Shield, what's next?" "Homos with prescription co-pays will destroy the moral fabric of America!" "We must protect the institution of deductibles from these deviants!"

    End rant.

    Tuesday, February 20, 2007

    Love makes a family, part 4

    Yes, it's been 3 weeks since I posted. I've been sick, delivered flowers, and been running amok. (Amok, amok, amok...) But I'm back now. :) Happy Mardis Gras...make sure you drink excessively in honor of my drag persona!

    Tessa - I'm her gay boyfriend, and she's my "straight" girlfriend. A whiz in the kitchen, her dinner parties and culinary treats are near legendary. We love to go dancing together, watch sappy movies, and definitely boy watch! She guards her hubby Mark jealously, as well she should. She's a fabulous enabler, and helps me objectify her brother-in-law every chance she gets. I miss her, as she now lives far too near the land of Mor-mon.

    Greg - My faboo clone in Chicago! We met when he was here in Laramie speaking on GLBT issues. He started as a university employee who became the de facto queer expert on campus, and then turned it into a career speaking. Sound familiar? We're collaborating on a book project we hope to do with the Matthew Shepard Foundation. We can't wait until we can be together for another Broadway sing-along, either in Denver or Chicago! Sidetracks was such a hoot, and so is Greg!

    Brendon - I figured I better put him in this batch of folks or he'll kick my ass. ;) G-Log is one of my favorite straight boys. He's more than willing to take the good-natured sexual harassment I can dish out on occasion, and is also willing to flirt right back! He's a lot of fun on the handball court, and there's the added bonus of seeing him in his workout clothes. ;) And as my friend Jess would say, "He's got good politics." Not mention a slamming hot girlfriend, who's also a faboo person.

    Abra - Better known as Nerdygirl, I think she might still be in recovery from her time as my house girl. Whether randomly making pancakes (or seeking them out in Seattle), drinking beer on my roof, or rescuing "the boys," Nerdy was a true friend indeed. She's one of the many folks who have crashed at Jim's Halfway House for Frazzled Freaks, and is one of the select who are as at home in my place as they are in their own. She helped whip the RRC into shape on campus, toiled tirelessly for the queer community, and roped (heh) most of us into the Blog-o-sphere. She's now a sultry seller of rockin' ropes in Seattle. Today's alliteration was brought to you in Honor of Her Nerdiness, and was sponsored by the number "Pancakes" and the letter "Hornsby's."

    Kristen - My favorite "Cocktail Fairy." She's more than just my office aide. She helped get us the hookup and scored the Cowboy Bar for our very first drag show. She keeps my entertained in the office with tales of her boy trouble, her drunken (non)debauchery with The Younger Brothers, and the "Man of the Month" desktop wallpaper. She keeps my drink full when I'm at the Co-boy, and has been known to share a martini or 4 with me at Tommy's. (We're going today, as a matter of fact.) This blonde bombshell turns the head of all the straight boys, and helps spot the hotties for the homos too. You couldn't ask for a better fruit fly, and anyone more fun with whom to share an office.

    Jace - My sexy flyboy! Jace used to work for me as a lab assistant. I lusted after him even then. Then we made him a tech, and then got him a full-time job as a user consultant. He's a certified pilot and flight instructor with more ratings and flight hours than I can keep track of. He makes the most amazing cocktails (and this is coming from ME) and is a SHAMELESS tease. He's a hunting buddy, volleyball rock star, and is training for a modified triathlon. In other words, he's hot with three CAPITAL T's! And his wonderful wife Leena gave me permission to seduce him...if only he weren't so darned straight! ;) He's been trying to get back into the military to fly now that the definition of asthma is different. Though I'd hate to see him leave Laramie, I'd love to see him in uniform.

    In the next (and possibly final) installment, the Friends from SIGUCCS!

    Tuesday, January 30, 2007

    Love makes a family, part 3

    In today's installment, I'm going to tell y'all about some of the people you probably DON'T know personally. They're also people about whom I care deeply. Fear not, my friends who live a little closer...more posts are yet to come. (Patience is a virtue, Brendon...though neither of us has recently been accused of being virtuous.)

    Judy - Yes, Shepard. Matt's Mom. I've gotten to know her a bit over the last 8 years, and couldn't respect her more. She embodies grace, poise, and compassion. She fights for GLBT people everywhere, especially youth. She's a mom, though something akin to an enraged momma grizzly. She will fight until she can't do so anymore. Fight for a world where everyone is safe and welcome in school, where all kids deserve a home and supportive "family" despite who they love, and where everyone should keep their job if they're a good employee. Dennis and Judy made one of the most generous and forgiving decisions ever...one I know I couldn't have made. Judy for President!

    Jackie - My adopted PFLAG grandma. She looks like she wants to bake you cookies. She also knows a four letter word or two! When my mom told me there was a lump in her breast, I called Jackie 10 minutes later. I knew she'd been a "cancer buddy" for one of her friends, driving her to chemo, holding her hand, etc. The next day Jackie brought me a book with everything I needed to know. She later wrote my mom a letter of support, and they became fast friends. Mom would spend more time having coffee and chatting with Jackie than she did with me on her visits to Laramie! She and my sister bought the rainbow disco ball that hangs in the RRC, and Jackie was one of the first volunteers the center ever had. She's always been there for me, and is truly family.

    Dave and Jennifer - Okay, some of you know the O'Malleys, and more of you know OF them. I first met Dave in the course of the investigation of Matt's murder. He later told me that I was the first gay person he KNEW was gay when talking to me. He used to be VERY homophobic, but today is one of our greatest supporters. Jennifer has a heart of gold coupled with a sharp tongue she's not afraid to use! Camping, cocktails by the chiminea, pride parades...we've done a little bit of everything together. I respect them SO much, and always have an amazing time when I'm with them. Nobody gives me shit so well or so regularly. ;)

    Amy - She held my hand when I had to talk to my mother over the phone about being the Chair of the LGBTA, and that I was going to be on the nightly news because a friend of mine had been attacked. She gave me the first housewarming gift for the kitchen in my brand new house. She held me when I cried over my mother's death. And she introduced me to new worlds as my shamanic teacher. She knows just when I need a phone call or email, and just when it's time to have lunch together at Corona Village. We are the voice of reason for each other, and help each other cut through to the heart of the matter. A champion for diversity, nature, and all living things.

    Lisa - My red-headed cohort in crime from college. We lived on the same floor in the dorms for 2 years, and were inseparable. We came out together. We went to our first LGBTA meeting together, hand in hand. We watched the "Puppy Episode" together...not suprising since the entire SERIES of "Ellen" was a weekly ritual for us. Our friends used to say that everytime we were together, it was bound to be an adventure. And it was. She'd tell me a "camp story!" every now and then, from her days as a wrangler and counselor at a ritzy summer camp in the mountains outside Estes Park. I'd read her the latest "depression in an envelope" from my mom. When our friend swallowed a bunch of pills our senior year, she drove to the hospital while I carried her drowsy body. She and Steph had me over for dinner the night news broke about Matt's attack. I wouldn't have made it through college without her, and it certainly wouldn't have been as much fun.

    Rod - I met Rod when four poor kids from UW went to speak at a GLBT Youth Leadership conference at CSU. Three of us stayed on the floor of his apartment for 2 days. And boy did we bond! He was like my counterpart in Fort Collins, and it became a ritual to call him for lunch or cocktails anytime were went south. Now he's in San Diego, and I got to spend some time with him on the now-infamous road trip to "the UnHoly Lands." We think a lot alike, and both want careers in GLBT activism. And it doesn't hurt that he's a very nice guy and cute to boot. We've even been to a Cher concert together! He also has the BEST use for the Book of Mormon (or Bible) I've ever heard...

    More to come later...and yes, Brendon...you'll be featured sooner or later. Just remember...you asked for it! ;)

    Tuesday, January 23, 2007

    Love makes a family, part 2

    A few more entries about the people in my extended family...I figured that we could all use something happy today, as tonight I plan on drinking heavily and screaming obscenities at the TV during the State of the (dis)Union address tonight.

    Jess - We joke about her being my wife, and her husband Andrew is my husband-in-law. Whether working together on AIDS Walk, moving patients through Albany County Family Planning, or drinking beer at our bowling league, we always have a good time with each other. A fierce and fabulous feminist, Jess cares deeply about all sorts of social justice issues. I speak in all of her Women's Studies classes as a token homo, and love that she's so committed to educating UW students about diversity. Laughter abounds when we're together, and once in a while we visit with our friend Hope. ;)

    Bob - Our designated cheerleader for AIDS Walk, Bob is always a ray of sunshine in our lives. He's gone through so much in his life, and still comes out of the gate smiling. He's also done just about everything one can imagine, and listening to his tales of yesteryear is always a good time. Bob knows just how to make you feel special and important, and continually reminds us that every day is a gift. Drag mother and choreographer extraordinaire, he's not afraid to cut a ho...including himself. His humor is edgy, vulgar, and usually in questionable taste...a man after my own heart. I can't wait to hear what will follow his next "Miss Gurl..."

    Craig - Scott's better half, and someone who's become a true and steadfast friend to me as well. His quiet, laid back demeanor makes you feel safe and welcome. Don't let him fool you though...he's just waiting quietly for the next chance to fire a barbed insult or other hilarious comment. Thanks to him, many of my horizons have been expanded, and I've met several amazing people in Denver through Craig and his cronies. He's an amazing listener, and has always given me great advice and a clear perspective. (Yes, even I ask for advice from time to time.) I know how much he loves and cares for Scott, which makes him a-ok in my book. I also know how much he cares about his friends in general, and that makes him amazing. I can only hope to find someone like him someday! And girl looks GOOD for her age, but don't tell Craig (or Scott) I said so. And for all the good times we've shared together already, I know there are even better days ahead.

    Josh - Recovering coffee roaster, current manager with Hertz at DIA, and sistah-friend-for-life. We hated each other before we'd even met, as we were afraid the other would sense the gayness and reveal us for the raging homos we were at heart. Just after he came out, a mutual friend invited us to a brunch at his house. Our lives would never be the same. Since he's 11 days older than me (and I'll never let him forget it), we bonded instantly in our group of "Elder Queens." We are a dangerous duo, and can drink just about anyone (except each other) under the table. We're known for patriotism, hot tub parties, and our special sangria recipe, which is known as "Jug o' Fun" or "Liquid Boxer Remover." Though we've had our ups and downs, we're fused at the soul, and will be sisters for life. Who else could dance with me at my sister's wedding, causing my mother to grumble and my aunt to feel faint. We danced to "Angel Eyes" by the Jeff Healey Band, for the record.

    Rae - Jesse's wife, and the best dance partner a guy could ask for. I've known her longer than Jesse has, and may have done my best to play cupid. *insert innocent whistling here* She's got an amazing sense of humor, and she is one of the only people who will ruthlessly match me insult for insult. We've almost been kicked out of movies for having too much fun...though the previews hadn't even started. Shopping buddies, dance partners, and gal pals. At my class reunion, she bragged to my female former classmates about how Jesse and I make the perfect husband. I take her to chick flicks, underwear shopping, and dancing. He fixes the house, brings home a nice paycheck, and handles that nasty hetero-loving stuff. My classmates started plotting to find their homo-hubbies on the spot. I'm glad she'll be keeping me on my toes for years to come, whether on the dance floor or trading insults.

    Travis - I remember the first time timid little Travis walked into a Spectrum meeting. Two weeks later he was an officer, and I've gotten to watch him grow into an amazing activist and powerful person. Finishing his third year in law school while juggling committees, student groups, and AIDS Walk is no small task. One third of the FABulous Stilettos, Ms. Oblivia (Queen of the Clueless) is a dear friend. Many's a night we've laughed and cried over a martini or other suitable adult beverage. While I hate the thought of not having him around for homo-happenings in Laramie, I'm loving the thought of having my own free lawyer! Hey, I wrote him a GREAT letter of recommendation for law school, and figure I ought to get SOMEthing out of the deal.

    Don't get your knickers in a twist, folks...there are plenty more profiles to come...

    Wednesday, January 17, 2007

    Time to get naked...

    (Not to worry...part 2 in the "Love makes a family" series is coming soon.) I knew that title would get your attention. ;) So the early morning workouts continue. Getting out of bed is no small feat at 5 o'clock in the morning, especially when the temperature outside is 15 FUCKING DEGREES BELOW ZERO. Mother Nature's pilot light has gone out, and she doesn't seem to care. Aside from the physical and mental benefits of working out, there's one extra bonus for going to the gym before even Gawd gets out of bed...drooling over pretty people!

    I would like to say that I'm not so shallow as to objectify the well-built, toned, fit folks at Half Acre. I'm not going to, but I'd like to. ;) Aaron, the Rev, and Scotty and I have turned it into something of a game. Or at least a pastime/spectator sport. We each have our favorites, though there seems to be a continually revolving parade of hot men and women so we're never bored. And I'm the luckiest of them all...the gay man who showers at the gym!

    I'll answer the next question...of course I look. If you were in a room full of naked people of the gender(s) of your choice, wouldn't you brighten your day? But this got thinking this morning: how would most straight men react if they KNEW there was a sissy among them? And how much denial must they live in to think there isn't? I wear rainbow bandannas on my head at the gym. My two rainbow tattoos are plainly visible in the gym AND in the shower.

    I don't leer. I don't ogle. And I don't feel guilty. I'd probably look at the aesthetic of naked women were I to shower with them too. Even one of the straight guys commented this morning "I don't care who you are, that's nice" as we walked into the showers. (Sadly, he wasn't talking about me....yet. ;) But it made me think about what the big fear is. I'm really not going to sexually assault a guy in the steam room. Having a homo see your penis doesn't alter your own sexuality...if only it were that easy!

    It all comes back to masculinity, I think. If a guy is checking you out, it puts you in the position of the object, not the viewer (Senior Seminar flashback, here we come). The position of the woman. And being the woman is bad in our patriarchal society. I must say that my hetero workout buddies have handled showering with Laramie's Queen Bee quite admirably. No stammering. No avoidance of eye contact. No paranoia that conversation will imply consent. And no feeble attempts to remain "out of sight, out of mind."

    When it comes down to it, none of us are there for sex. We're there to workout and become svelt so that more people will WANT to have sex with us, but that's another story. ;) And if, at 7am in a Laramie locker room, we can all learn to get along and that being near a gay person ISN'T threatening, why can't we do it elsewhere? It won't destroy "unit cohesion." It won't turn school children gay. It won't make teens in a high school GSA any more or less likely to have sex...or even be gay!

    I also smiled this morning, as I imagined what I would say if someone did get in my face. If they took offense to a gay man seeing them in a towel...or less. "How arrogant. What makes you think you're so homo-licious that I won't be able to control myself in your presence?" Especially when it's 15 below outside...

    Thursday, January 11, 2007

    Love makes a family...

    I've talked about it before - the difference between the family you're stuck (born) with, and the family you choose. As many of you know by now, Jesse and Rae got the phone call on Tuesday that they'd been selected. After more than two years on the waiting list (and several more of trying on their own), they're adopting a baby boy! This has gotten me thinking again about how little blood can mean, and how strong love is. In this vein, I wanted to tell you about some of the amazing people who are part of my "family." And so I begin the first post in a series highlighting folks who mean the world to me. For regular readers, don't worry. If you're not in the first post, you'll be in future ones. The names are presented in no particular order.

    Jesse - We've been best friends since third grade. We grew up together and were attached at the hip. For years we've thought of each other more as brothers. We went to college together, later roomed together, and work together still today. It was GoBots that first brought us together. On weekends, we'd meet at the elementary school and play with the cheap Transformer knock-offs for hours. I've driven him to the hospital (twice), and he was right where I needed him when my mom died. He and Rae have been waiting for a baby since they were married, and I couldn't be happier that he's finally a dad! The best hunting buddy a guy could ever ask for, and someone I admire tremendously.

    Scott - Most of my readers already know Scotty, though to some he'll always be "Puppy." We used to travel in VERY different circles in the gay community; I was TOO gay and activisty for him and his friends, and he was too pretty for me to reach out to him. ;) And then he decided to get involved in Spectrum and AIDS Walk. We hit it off instantly, bonding over our common love of wine. All wines. *grin* It feels like we've known each other forever now, though it's only been about 2 years. He's now my personal trainer, and has done more for my self-esteem than I think he realizes. Though most importantly, he's taught me that the changes I've made and things I've accomplished have come from within, not from him. Whether we're dancing in the Denver clubs, spinning poi, drinking wine/martinis/anything in sight, or just watching Project Runway together, we remind each other always - No Day But Today!

    Mandy - The Grace to my Will. We met through She Who Shall Not Be Named many moons ago. There were some wild times in college, I tell you. Late night trips to the hot springs in Saratoga. "Fairy Commando" raids to homo up campus. Sugar benders with 80's video games. We've been through (too) many boyfriends, heartbreaks, and crushes. We've made road trips to judge speech meets, spent hours laughing with her mother (affectionately known as "Lady"), and cried on each other's shoulders all night long. The laughter has far outweighed the tears, though, and even when she's far away (Anchorage...Arizona...) we harass each other. I don't even know how many times we've texted each other randomly from a dance floor in Denver or equally debaucherous locale on the Vegas strip.

    Jerry - I first met Jerry at Pride in Denver. He saw my UW hat (or was it a shirt?) and came bounding up to me with his salt and pepper hair. "I went to school in Wyoming too!" Then he promptly pulled his pants down to show me the tattoo of Pistol Pete on his ass. We saw each other again at Rendezvous that year. After way too many overly-strong cocktails, we were BFF. I stay at his condo on about half my trips to Denver now, and can't imagine life without Jerry and his partner Chuck. Generosity doesn't begin to describe this total sweetie! Old enough to be my father, but SO young at heart. He was with us on New Year's this year...bopping along at a mini-rave with us. He's blunt, funny, and always willing to party and drink heavily.

    Brittany - The multi-colored punk squid. When I met her, she was a spastic, scattered, frightened little thing. Always up for an adventure, often loud, and ever amusing. I've watched her grow into an amazing young woman. She came out and got involved...in a big way. I'll never forget seeing her in a meeting with the Dean of Students and VP for Student Affairs. Terrified out of her mind, she calmly and cooly explained what the "Day of Silence" was all about, and asked for their support. They were quite impressed with the planning (which Squiddy was in charge of, thanks to the closeness to AIDS Walk and the involvement of the other board members in THAT) and said "We're totally behind this. What do you need? Want some money?" She's still loud and spastic, but in a much more controlled, adult way. ;) I can't wait to see what she takes on next.

    The Rev - Ah, Linus. Though he'd probably never admit it, he's calmed down so much since I met him. Dinner at Sweet Mel's with Mandy and Abra is where we met. The kilt was a novelty with the girls, and they decided he and I would get along fairly well. After 3 hours of raucous laughter and feeding off of each other's stories and jokes, the girls decided maybe we got along TOO well. Years later I now refer to him as my heterosexual lifemate who coparents with me in shifts. In other words, he's my designated house and puppy sitter. Since neither of us is a spring chicken anymore and we both hang around with a bunch of young whippersnapper college students, we often commiserate about being old. We also share of love of Broadway, all things 80's, and pretty slender things younger than ourselves. Some have called us twins separated at conception. Well, except for the fact that he's straight...in the bedroom. The kitchen is an entirely different story. And then there's his stories. He's got one for all occasions. Even one night back in 1984...

    More profiles later...

    Monday, January 08, 2007

    Body Image, Revisited

    A while back I posted on the topic of male body image, eating disorders, and men. As of today, I am down 70 pounds. I'm wearing clothes that were long ago lost to the back of the closet, marked as "when I'm skinnier." I'm getting there, and this morning at 6am the Reverend and I braved the cold winds and lightless day to meet with our personal trainer for the first time. Granted, that would be Scotty, so he's not so foreign to us, but still... We made it through our first morning of cardio fairly well, and are even playing handball after work with Brendon and Amber. But this is not what prompted today's post...I just thought an update seemed appropriate.

    Today on gay satellite radio station, they were discussing an article about "obesity report cards" which are being sent home in several states now. In addition to grades for reading, spelling, or history, students are now being given report cards on their height/weight... It's being done in an effort to combat the growing "childhood obesity" in the U.S. A noble intention, but I don't think I'm going to like the methods...or the results.

    At first thought, the concept of grading kids on their bodies is abhorrent to me! one of the girls discusses in the article is 6 years old. She received a letter in her report card that she's in the 80th percentile for BMI. Though she doesn't know what those terms mean, she's stopped eating for fear she'll get in trouble at school. Doesn't this sound like the beginnings of a beautiful eating disorder? IN A 6 YEAR OLD!?! That concept terrifies me.

    Callers on the radio show were split. Some said "they're going to be teased if they're fat anyway, so they might as well have all the facts." Others echoed my thoughts of anorexia and bulimia, as well as overall self-esteem. I was that kid in school. Overweight, despite the fact that my eating habits didn't match my voluptuous and curvy figure. Teased. I hated going to school because I didn't want to hear more of the taunting. And now we're going to GRADE kids on their bodies?

    How many more supermodels have to die of starvation before we get it? While I appreciate the efforts to control childhood obesity, there has to be a safe and sane way to do it, without our schools convincing kindergarteners to pick at their plates or stick fingers down their throats.

    Discuss...

    Friday, December 29, 2006

    Inches and inches!

    Well, I at least wanted it to SOUND dirty. I'm safely holed up in Denver. Yes, there's snow. Lots of it. The drive to Denver on Thursday was fine. Didn't even see any snow until I was almost right in the city. It's not all fun and games, though. There are many inches of snow on the ground, and since we didn't want to drive all the way to downtown for cocktails last night, Jerry and I tried to go see Dreamgirls just a bit south of the condo. A quick bite of dinner first, and then to the theater...which closed 15 minutes before we got there. *sigh* We ventured out for nothing! So back home for cocktails with Mary and her boyfriend. Never let it be said snow will prevent our merry-making.

    Sadly, there wasn't enough snow to keep Jerry from having to work at the post office today. So at 7:30am we were back out in it, headed for Highlands Ranch. See, my car Georgina has all-wheel drive. Half of everything is closed today. They're keeping the main roads plowed very well here, and getting there and back was no stress at all. If you have half a brain cell and don't drive like a maniac, you're fine. As long as I don't encounter a jackass who's in too big of a hurry, I'm not worried!

    As cold and snowy as it is, we've been commenting on how beautiful it is. The snow is falling down, not sideways. For a Wyoming boy, that's a little odd. There's a thick blanket of white on everything. The trees are gorgeous! It's quiet and peaceful. Everything's moving at a slower pace. There's food in the fridge, booze on ice, and movies galore! I brought my crocheting, my jewelry making kit, and my stationary so there's plenty to do. I'm leaving for the store in a minute to buy cow then drive to meet Scotty and Craig. We're going to cook steak and eggs for breakfast.

    The moral of today's story: there's beauty and something positive in anything. Look at it from another perspective. Rather than focusing on the cold, look at the beauty of the trees, the snow, and the chance to pause for a moment.

    Thursday, December 21, 2006

    Happy Holly-gays!

    A friend recently sent me a holiday card. I like it so much, I thought I'd share it with all my readers. Hope your holidays are a hoot, a holler, and a half!

    Tuesday, December 19, 2006

    It's my qwhat-a-mal-en-ness

    You know...my natural heat. Today, I was scheduled to play racquet/handball with some of the boys. They, however, are afraid of me. Brendon was so ashamed of his impending loss that he failed to show up. Linus went so far as to feign a stomach bug and beg off sick. He started this fabrication yesterday, so he must be sore afraid. Ben was so frightened I'm not even sure he knew we were playing today! Aaron is truly terrified, because he has yet to even face me on the court.

    I realize that being such a butch and athletic homo I strike terror into the hearts of (so-called) men, but COME ON. To stand me up completely? On the up side, I did finally play a worthy opponent: myself! Apparently 30 minutes of one-on-none racquetball can work up quite a sweat. It will no doubt make me that much tougher on the court, and I might never get the boys to come back to the gym.

    Yup, you guessed it. I'm calling them out! If you play racquetball or handball, bring it on! I'm here through break, and willing to whoop up on people, singles or doubles. If there's three, we can play cut-throat.

    Monday, December 18, 2006

    Some days you're the windshield...

    (Oops! I meant to post my Xmas card to everyone before I left for Denver. I scanned and loaded the image, but didn't get it linked. I'm a doing like that!)

    I am officially in the holiday spirit. I had an early Xmas, or as I like to call it the Holly-Gays, in Denver. I got to spend time with Josh, which hadn't happened in months thanks to conflicting schedules. I got to give and receive a few presents. And I got to spend time with some amazing people.

    There was the Christmas party at Mark and Alan's. Tres fab! A private tour of "Blossoms of Light," the light display at the Denver Botanical Gardens. Mark designs and puts it together each year as a contract, and I know just about all of his holiday elves who help wrap strand after strand of lights. This year the display was ranked #2 in the nation by AOL City Guide. There were cocktails once or twice (ha ha ha) and some new friends made. Stories, jokes, and incriminating evidence...we had it all. I left Denver feeling pretty darned good about things. Even the weather seemed to cooperate and give me a chance for one last lunch with the boys!

    Then I got on I-25. Road conditions were NOT bad. Drivers, however, were dumb. 3 accidents between Denver and Fort Collins made for some VERY slow driving. I don't like doing 20 mph on the interstate, much less 3 mph. Finally north of FoCo, I decided to avoid the truck traffic I knew would be an issue between Cheyenne and Laramie. I buzzed across Owl Canyon Road without incident, though I did go a bit slower because of snow on the road. 287 wasn't bad either, and what little traffic existed was moving along at a very safe yet respectable 45-50 mph. Just before the Wyoming border, however, a semi driver was being...well, stupid.

    Please note that driving too slow for conditions is ALSO dangerous. We'd been following him for 20 minutes, and traveled only 5 miles. Laramie was 25 miles away, and I knew that the vein in forehead would burst before I could stand another full hour of driving behind this twit. I'd already been on the road for 2.5 hours, after all. Traffic began to back up, and was up to a mile long before I was able to es-ca-pe (as Dorie told Nemo's dad).

    After 3 hours of high stress driving, I returned home. I dropped off some holiday cheer to some of my friends and returned to the house at about 9pm. The visits had returned me to a calm state, and I felt no desire to scream. Then I went to bed at 10:30pm. And found the downstairs toilet was stuck running, and the reserve tank (clean water, thankfully) had overflowed. So I got to mop the bathroom clean for an hour before bed.

    ...and some days you're the bug.

    I know the universe will not give me more than I can handle. Sometimes I just wish it didn't trust me so much! - Paraphrase from Mother Teresa