The Claiming of Orchidflowerchild

2004-01-28T16:16:00.000-06:00

What, like I need sleep?
I think I need to post more often.

I'm going to start off by talking about my life, in general, and see where that leads me....

So, I'm really enjoying being back in classes. A full load is a good thing. I'm thoroughly loving both classes with Dr. Steele, if for no other reason than she is a totally shibby professor.

I managed to miss the first online quiz in 331, simply because I forgot it until i was in bed, last night. Oops. Oh well, i'll be on my toes more, in future. This whole blackbaord thing confloggles me.

I just maked that word up, confloggle...

confloggle - (con-FLOGG-ehl) - v. - To muddy, confuse, or otherwise unconfortably tweak perceptions. See also: confuzzle, confuse, discomobulate.

I am seriously going through this nesting phase, right now. i have an urge to hug and hold and comfort and tend to people. I also have a need, right now to tell people their good points.

For example, James is sitting next to me, right now. He is really, really gorgeous, whether he knows it or not. His lips are well formed, and rosy, and those big, expressive eyes. Set against his hair falling in hsi eyes, and his beautifully curved cheek line, he really is a beauty. The best part is that the beauty within outshines so very much all the exterior appeal. His eyes draw you in and the light of all that he has inside shines out.

It will get better, James. Seriously. Somebody will see what i see, eventually. Not everyone dismisses so quickly. Some of us will stick around long enough to touch your inner beauty.

Ah, my Draca. She told me, recently that I am very psychic. I'm willing to buy that. I freely admit that I am perceptive beyond your average level of observance. She also told me I am smarter than her. Possibly. But she is something that the world needs more of, desperately. Patty is a lover. She has so much love and kindness in her heart. It bleeds out and engulfs me, every time we are together, especially when we drink. When patty has had a few, her walls come down, and this warm, gentle flow of compassionate love pours out of her and swirls around me, like feathers in a warm breeze. When I look in her eyes, I see something that is so far beyond the physical. I want her to know that I love her, as a sister, as a mother, as the beautiful symbol of womanhood that she is. Through all the pain, and all the trouble (and I do feel her hurt and the scars, lacing the unadulterated love), she still manages pure love. In this cold and jaded world, love is such a precious thing.

Patty, I want you to know that if you are rich in nothing else, you are rich in the one thing that truly matters. You, my dear ARE a goddess.

Lindsay (and to a lesser extent, Ryan):

Love is so amazing when it is new. I see a lot of potential, here. I want you both to have happiness. You deserve it. Rarely have I seen such uninhibited passion for life as in dear Lindsay, and not often is it that I see such reserve in a man as Ryan. This is a respectful relationship. I deem it good.

Michael: A lot has been left unsaid. No closure, no amicability. Perhaps this is best. It was a rash and crazy thing, we did. I think it was a learning experience for both of us. Myself, i cannot say what your lessons were. Yours are not mine to learn, just as mine are not yours. As harsh as it seems, I think you were meant to teach me how to be selfish. And I was. Frankly, i was a cold and evil bitch. But I needed that strength. I needed to be reminded that I had the ability to be the cold one.

I appologize, if I hurt you. Pain is something I am not used to inflicting. I want you to know that I think you are going to be good for someone, just not me. Most importanly, i want you to know that all the things I said that hurt you were not as much about you, as they were about me. I will be taking you off of my friends list, because it sortof hurts to see your posts. You can keep me on yours, or not. I just can't bear to look at your posts because it reminds me of how awful I can be. I harbor guilt for my behaviour.

Katie: I know I say it to you a lot, and you may think I don't really mean it, but I do. You are beautiful. You are so kind, and so caring. You are the epitome of empathy and the embodiment of sweet. You and Jenny make me believe in love. Sometimes, we need a reminder that there is true love out there, and for me, the way that you have given your heart to another gives me hope. I don't know if I will ever be able to truly give my entire heart, without reservations, and I admire, respect, and envy you for the ability to do so.

Jenny: You are one of the most fun and engaging people I know. YOu are so very in touch with your inner child and so fun to be around. You have such a way, such a presence, about you that I can't help but smile, when i think of you. When you have fun, you REALLY have fun, and I fucking love that, about you. You give me hope, with your wide-eyed innocence and simultaneous depth of maturity. You have earned and kept my utmost respect for your frank passion for life.

Jessie: You know how I feel about you. I've said it in LJ, before. But I want to say it again. You are beautiful. Inside, outside, spiritually, emotionally, you are beautiful. If you ever doubt that you have an impact on those around you, I want you to remember that I will always, ALWAYS be here for you. I love you so much. I really never told you, but I fell in love with you. If I were straight, and if I thought I was worthy of you, I would try to make you mine. As it is, I think that there are ways in which you are better than me, and far out of my league. I can't imagine defiling your grace, however. I respect you more than you will ever know.

Lorelei: You feel so much pain. If I could, i would take it all from you, because you deserve so much happiness. WHen i told you that you are important to me, i wasn't kidding. Even if I forget it, sometimes, and even if we argue, you are vital to me. Whenever you think that if you just went away, nobody would care, call me. Because if you were gone, one day...if you died, or were harmed, part of me would suffer and die, as well. The same part of me, in fact, that suffers, even as you do.

Gloria: I love your attitude and strength. You have drive, you have ambition, and you have so much heart. I think that the thing I respect most in you is your devotion. Your ability to reconcile to here and now, and that which is beyond sobers me. You are so confident in your convictions, and so steady in your strength. You are one of the few people I know to whom the term "grace" is not misapplied. And I feel the power of your devotion, to your friends, to your family, and to God in your touch, your voice, and your presence. I know you will go so far. When you get there, I will be proud to say that I knew you when you were just G-Lo. You're my girl, G-Lo, and I gotcher back.

Misty: I feel a quiet serenity and sort of cerebral calm from you that steadies the air. You are so centered, so open, and so peaceful, that I feel better just seeing you there. I really hope to get to know you better, Misty, because I think you are one of the most interesting people. NOt much more I can say about you, knowing you as slightly as I do, but I really, really hope that we can deepen our friendship.

Tim: Tim, tim, timtim, timtimtim.... YOu make me smile, boy. You're so loving and romantic, and sweet. You remind me a lot of myself. Despite all you have been through, you still have hope and you know that it will be alright. Frankly, I suppose that you are me, in some ways. Your purity, your kindness, your nonjudgemental openess to all things makes me proud to call you my friend. You skip, you spin, you sing, even though you know you are awful at it, and you just don't care that you look silly. I wish I was able to just be me so well as you are you. I envy your ability to just let yourself feel. Unlike me, you don't feel the need to question the motivations and goals of others. I wish I could take things at face value, like you do.

Well, Ladies and...errr...whatever, I seem to have made another one of those posts extolling the qualities I respect and love in my friends. But, you know, it is all the truth. There is actually so much more I could say about all of you. I truly do love you...all of you.

2004-01-22T19:40:00.000-06:00

Shrub
shrub - n - A little bush. See also lying asskiss.

Ah, the State of the Union...

(or Presidential Prestidigitation)

So, we caugh Saddam. Whoohoo! Damn-near pulled his happy ass out of a hat! No WMD, that we can verify 100%, but we got the fucker. Goodonya, Shrub, but don't keep telling me that the reason we fought this war was to clean out the terroist supporter and hoarder of WMD. Don't fucking lie to me.

We went to Iraq because we still had a mess to clean up. I support the war on Iraq. Don't get me wrong, I don't buy the reasoning. I support the ousting of the Baathist regime because WE PUT HIM THERE. He was our fuckup. We needed to clean it up (and should've done it in '91).

Maybe I support the ends if not the means.

And all these right-wing fucktards bitching about "long-haired, hippie, liberal, pinko fags" and how their left-wing asswipes wouldn't be fighting the dictator make me want to puke. Speaking as a long-haired, hippie, liberal REPUBLICAN fag, I must say we need a little credit where credit is due. No Democrat funded and put into power Saddam and his Motley Crew of Merry Murderers. That, my dears, was the doing of one Ronald Reagan. Or at least the administration under Reagan.

And I LIKE Reagan...but credit only where Credit is due. A conservative administration funded and empowered Hussein, and maybe it is just desserts that it was left to a conservative administration to clean him out.

My point is, if you are going to handle a situation, HANDLE it. Don't lie to me and whine about hidden WMD that was moved and absconded with. I have no doubt that Hussein has been funding WMD programs, but the point is, we can't prove it. As a reasoning for war, it is weak. We can't prove it, and we're grasping at straws. Try sticking to the gross violations of international treaties, human rights, and peace agreements. They are less inflamatory, but they are MUCH more logical. Trying to get a nation of hardcore free-thinkers to support a war out of fear of falling missiles is so 1973, Shrub. Get with the times.

At the time, it sounded like a good idea. The Baath party and the Taliban were both hardline anti-communist. And shit, it was the eighties! Why not? If you aren't all for the Red Menace, then hey, we can ignor the fact that you have a tendency to rape, pillage, and hoard power.

As for Health Care.... Fuck it. The system sucks. No amount of tinkering with the transistors is gonna fix it, if the cathode ray tube is shot. Scrap the system and start over. I am willing to pay higher taxes for reliable healthcare. One of the few things I would freely pay higer tax for.

DOMA...what to say to DOMA? Shit. That's what it is. For the goodgoddamned love of FUCK, the point of the constitution is to defend the rights and freedoms of Americans, not TAKE THEM AWAY. Fucktards. That is the most inane thing I have ever heard...to write an amendment to the constitution to specifically TAKE rights or priveleges away from a group of people.

Last time I checked, I was STILL an American. The fact that I happen to suck cock doesn't change that, and it shouldn't amount to one half a bird turd as to my life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness. If I, as a consenting adult, want to enter into a legally binding contract of commitment with another consenting adult, what kind of facist regime is this that tells me I can't. Freedom, people. Look into it.

While we're at it, why not bring back the 3/5 of a person rule...or maybe renounce sufferage. You know, just for kicks. If you want to piss of us Liberals, you have a lot more avenues to choose from, that also affect much more than just 10-15% of the population.

The purest intent of that document we hold so sacred is egalitarian, not divisive. However, the religious right has this frightening tendency to wave around the name of God and words like "morals" and "ethics" as a means of undermining the freedoms of people in favor of some sort of whitebread suburbanite Ward Cleaver sensibility that is somehow less troubling to a legion of Churchladies. Doesn't anyonme see the absurdity in this?

And maybe it's the pagan in me, but the overuse of the word God in that speech bugs me. You know, that just seems right up there with rappers thanking God for a Grammy. Because I'm sure God loves the credit for prosecution of innocent people, war, and "Slap da Bitch." I'm so sick of people speaking as if they have a direct line to God. Faith is fine. I admire the devout. But if there is one person into whose mouth one should not put words, I'm thinking it is God.

And yes, I am aware that this country has Christian roots. However those are Persecuted minority Christian roots. The point of all that fighting and immigration from Europe to begin with, was to be guaranteed the right to live as one chooses. Don't forget that the Quakers and Puritans were marginalized minorities who came here searching for rights and freedoms to practice as they pleased. They may have been highly religious people, but I still see it as a perversion of their basic intent when people try to subjugate others in the name of our country's Christian roots. I don't question the faith and sensibilities of our founding fathers, but I SERIOUSLY dislike the way people have taken what was, initially, a way to guarantee minority rights as justification to use the new majority to TAKE AWAY rights.

But, you know, that's just me.

I'm not even going to get into Homeland Security and the Patriot Act. Those topics turn my stomach. I'm too full of chinese food to risk reverse peristalsis.

2003-10-27T20:17:00.000-06:00

Guh.

So, there I was, secure in my position on him. I was happy and carefree and I had swaddled these feelings in layers of fine, tightly-woven denial, shining and taught, like so many multicoloured bolts of rippling silk. My love for him was buried and dead, entombed in that place where we hide all those feelings of need and want and desire, with all their glittering artifacts and memorabilia, in a sarcophagous of self-protection.

And then some bastard cracks the seal on our tombs, and dry, dusty bones are revealed to harsh sun, naked and baren, with their wrappings crumbling amongst the jewels. All our trappings, and all our enshrinements are pulled out, in violation, and examined, turned and polished, and labeled, only to be put in some case for later veiwing.

"boy, don't lie. I can smell you getting moist over him, from here."

And ya know, it really hurts. Because I know I can't have him. He's so young, he's so naive, and he's leaving soon, anyway. If I could be with him, i would want to be WITH him. It wouldn't be a fling, or a quick fuck. I would need to be whole, with him, to hold him, and kiss him, and spend hours looking into his eyes, being his, and he mine. It couldn't be a half-measure.

Damnit, R.J. fuck you. Fuck you for not letting me sit in my tomb and moulder. I was doing just fine, letting my heart slowly decay into dust.

Fuck.

2003-10-24T15:51:00.000-05:00

I still love you, David. I never stopped. Shit.

I opted not to have surgery. I am recovering well, and have most use, if no strength or endurance, back in my left hand.

I have worked out my schedule for Spring. I think I am just going to throw myself into school and work, next year. I need a distraction. I'm alone, and that isn't going to change, right now. Nor does it really need to. I'm taking my own advice, that I have been giving to others for years.

I need to work on me. I need to define who I am, and who i want to be. Until I have done so, any relationships will be nothing more than a means of shoring up my own crumbling sense of self.

2003-09-30T12:02:00.000-05:00

Update

I wrecked yet another car. Flipped the blazer six times. Rediscovery of the lost art of walking seems prudent, at this point.

Michael is back in North Carolina. The honeymoon ended far too soon.

I now have an appartment in Huntsville.

Broken thumbs suck. Surgery is necessary. How we are to come up with six grand, I dunno.

2003-08-04T16:43:00.000-05:00

To Those Wondering

Mom is recovering, nicely. She is easily tired and has to take about fifteen bazillion pills a day, but she is recovering.

Money is insanely tight, right now.

My car was totaled, but I and all concerned are fine.

Thank goodness for insurance.

Michael moves in this coming Saturday. Let the shagathon begin.

No, really,. I love that boy, and I can't wait to look into his eyes and tell him how much I love him.

2003-07-10T22:38:00.000-05:00

To those who don't know

THe afternoon of June 29th, my mother had a heart attack. I was not made aware of this until 9PM, the next night. I was not at the hospital when she had her quadruple bypass, later that next week, but I visited the night before she had her operation.

Just a little background on the previous post.

2003-07-10T22:36:00.000-05:00

Yeah, because I wasn't torn up enough about this, I need your fucking opinion....

Orchidflowerchil: *I'M* being an ass? YOU won't even tell my what you are pissed about.
Manda2cool: im mad at YOU
Orchidflowerchil: If you want to play your little high school mind games, go right ahead, but don't expect me to play along.
Orchidflowerchil: Either tell me what I did to piss you off, or drop it.
Manda2cool: fine im mad b/c micheal was an ass to me when i was trying to find out where you were and im mad b/c you were not there for your mom at suryury there was no excuse for not being there so i dont want to hear it
Orchidflowerchil: MAybe the fact that my fucking CAR wouldn't start? Is that a good enough reason for you.
Orchidflowerchil: Fuck off, little girl.
Orchidflowerchil: Come back when you grow up.
Manda2cool: your telling lies
Orchidflowerchil: What lies?
Manda2cool: i head different
Orchidflowerchil: Which time are you talking about?
Orchidflowerchil: When she went into the hospital, at first, or when she went to surgery?
Manda2cool: the day of the sergery
Orchidflowerchil: I had very little gas, and my car was dead, anyway, when she went in, and I came and saw her the day before the surgery, then went home.
Manda2cool: w/e your b/f called me names and that is not right
Orchidflowerchil: What did he call you?
Manda2cool: phyllis would of came and got you anyone would of that is not excuse
Orchidflowerchil: How DARE you bring a moral judgement down upon me? How DARE you?
Orchidflowerchil: Judy brought me down the Monday after she was in the hospitral.
Orchidflowerchil: THe day it happened, i was in downtown. I didn;t even KNOPW about it until the next night.
Orchidflowerchil: Then I had no gas and a dead battery.
Orchidflowerchil: I got ahold of Judy and she took me down on Monday afternoon.
Manda2cool: im not moral juding anyone family sould be there for each other and so dont put crap on me
Orchidflowerchil: How THERE do you want me to be?
Orchidflowerchil: Do you want me to be standing over the frickin' doctor's shoulder?
Orchidflowerchil: Meanwhile, by telling me what I SHOULD do, you damn-well ARE judging me, and my motives.
Orchidflowerchil: What good was I going to do sitting in some waiting room while a surgeon cut into her?
Orchidflowerchil: Tell me that.
Orchidflowerchil: What good?
Orchidflowerchil: And what if something went wrong?
Orchidflowerchil: Hmm?
Orchidflowerchil: What good would it do to have me a screaming mess of raw emotion, right there in the lobby?
Orchidflowerchil: YOu act like this whole ordeal hasn't affected me.
Orchidflowerchil: And maybe I do, too.
Orchidflowerchil: But trust me, it has. The only reason for my lack of overt emotional expression is that I fear my own emotions, okay?
Manda2cool: well she would know that you are there for her and she knows that and she didnt b/c you werent there
Orchidflowerchil: Oh, she told you as much, did she?
Orchidflowerchil: DO you know where I was the day she had the surgery?
Orchidflowerchil: I was a mess, is what I was.
Manda2cool: at the WOODLANDS with those gurls
Orchidflowerchil: I was crying all over my friend, all night, and getting good and drunk.
Orchidflowerchil: Because I was being torn apart, inside, and I couldn't handle my own pain.
Orchidflowerchil: And I don't think i needed to bring any more of that on anyone but myself and the people who understand me.
Orchidflowerchil: Actually, Jessie, Shannon, and I were HERE.
Manda2cool: w/er i guess i dont know you then
Orchidflowerchil: What DON'T you know?
Orchidflowerchil: Do you WANT to know?
Orchidflowerchil: DO you want to know that I have not really been able to deal with this entire thing because I don't want to even think about how close I came to losing my mother?
Orchidflowerchil: Do you want to know how hard it is to look at my mom, lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a million machines?
Manda2cool: well then you sould of been there so it would give her a reason to wunna come back i woiuold of been there for my mom and im not that close to her wither
Orchidflowerchil: Don't you DARE even attempt to tell me what I should and shouldn't do, because you have no idea of my pain and my motivations.
Manda2cool: you not old enough to freakin drink so dont give me that shit i think that you are partying to much and you are runing your life with all this bs crap!!!!
Orchidflowerchil: DON'T FUCKING JUDGE ME, AMANDA.
Manda2cool: then dont judge me!!!!
Orchidflowerchil: Take your goddamned legal drinking age and shove it up your ass.
Orchidflowerchil: I dealt with what I was feeling. I may not have done it in the best of ways, but I did it.
Orchidflowerchil: And my mistakes are MINE, just as yours belong only to you.
Orchidflowerchil: I will deal with them, and I don't need you telling me how to do so.
Manda2cool: your making the most biggest mistake right now you just lost the closet person to you BYE cj

I'm not even going to START to mention how much her little teenybopper slang "turms" bug me.

Ladies and gentlemen, my dear, sweet, caring, sensitive cousin.

2003-06-19T22:10:00.000-05:00

question

....if I close my eyes, will you still be there, when I open them? Is it possible that you really will be here, always, forever?

I love you. More than feeble words can say.

2003-06-19T20:26:00.000-05:00

And the Beat Goes On

We stand upon a precipice in history, in this, the first decade of a new century, the third year of a new millenium. We stand on a precipice. Behind us, the long, weary dusty road of history stretches back, our footprints meandering across its surface, splattered with sweat, tears, and our very blood. We have come through hard, dark times, as a species, leaving behind the scars and gashes on our world and ourselves.

It was not so very long ago, in the scheme of things, when women where a complete mystery to medical science. As recently as the 1800's, a century of remarkable advance in the sciences, the arts, technology, and just about every field imaginable, doctors of medicine were not permitted to touch a woman anywhere that was covered by clothing, in normal victorian dress. Essentially, any illness a woman fell prey to had damned-well better happen on her neck or wrist. Women died, condemned to reputations of ill repute, accused of fornication, because their abdomens would become distended with malignant tumours. In this very age of astronomical advances, women were taught that they should know naught of sex until marriage, and even then, only for the explicit purpose of childbearing.

And let us not forget what our men and boys were taught. In Victorian England, the chastity belt was not something restricted only to young women. Boys were made to lock their tender young genetalia in all manner of cold, cruel contraptions, often involving iron clamps, spike, or blades to discourage masturbation or night emissions. The very legacy of sex in the western world is one where we are taught that the most natural of urges -- the most loving of experiences -- is evil, wicked, and taboo.

Is it any wonder that sexual fetishes and disorders abound? Is it any wonder that the pronography business is booming? We are told, from birth, that sex is something we should have no knowlege of, no experience with, and that such things are to be kept hidden away from all eyes. But we still have our urges. And to quell them, we still seek out the illicit.

Nevermind the treatment, now and in the past, of just about any minority, sexual or otherwise. After all, sufferage for women only came about in the last century. The right to be more than a mother and a wife has been lately taken for granted, but it is such a huge advancement beyond our past.

Of course, the subjugation of women is not necessarily a trademark only of the European west. It is, however, not a universal starting point. During African exploration by the Europeans, there were encounters with great matrilineal societies, headed by powerful queens. At least a handfull of influential Bantu empires were ruled by women. This was, of course, not something expected by European travelers and traders. By sheer arrogance and ignorance, the European invader began the downfall of great societies by assuming that men would be in charge of any society.

This is our legacy. A culture that believed that sex was an act that corrupted the soul, that women were little more than chattel and window dressing, and that love between two men or two women was so perverse, so wrong, and so utterly unclean as to warrant torture, murder, and persecution.

And yet we wonder why it is so slow that change comes. We are still repressed. We are still those fools locking our sons in instruments of torture and our daughters in restrictive social roles.

However, we are standing on a precipice.

The last sixty years or so have seen astonishing leaps in social issues and civil rights. From the early days of sufferage to the first female candidates for President, from June Cleaver and the silent generation to Anjali Bhasin and the Feminist Majority Foundation, and from Stonewall to Pride, we are moving forward. There is still work to be done, however.

In four days we should see a decision on a landmark case in the US Supreme Court that tells us if nine justices come to the conclusion that ALL people have the right to physical expression of love (or less) with the person of their choice. In the coming years we will see ongoing struggles for equality in pay for women, and equality in legal unions for gays and lesbians.

We stand on a precipice.

It is truly an age of revolution, but revolution comes at an incredible cost. Our brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, and soon enough, our children pay the price for the betterment of all of our lives.

So, let us leap from the precipice, into whatever may come, secure in the knowlege that our efforts, now, will make it possible for our children to mock us for our ongoing rememberance of these moments in our lives that we mark as current history, but will, soon enough, be found in indeces of battered high school history texts. I long for the day when we all look back fondly, recalling where we were the moment that Lawrence was decided, and our children look back at us, totally incapable of comprehending a world where the right to love and fuck as you please was not a given.

We stand on a precipice. As did our mothers, and theirs. We are slowly working at dismantling an ideology that tells us everything that is evil, but takes away so much that is good.

Take my hand, and step off the precipice with me.

2003-06-18T14:35:00.000-05:00

My outercourse activity is snuggling!

Which Sexual Outercourse Act Are You? (with pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla

Of couse it is. I'm a sappy romantic. We all knew that.

2003-06-13T16:25:00.000-05:00

From the transcript of oral arguments in Lawrence & Garner v. Texas

(Snippets from oral arguments ( Click here for full text ))

Question: Does Texas permit same-sex adoptions -- two women or two men to adopt a child or to be foster parents?

Mr. Rosenthal: I don't know the answer to that, Justice.

Question: Well, in portraying that Texas sees as a family and distinguising both married and unmarried heterosexual people from homosexual people, those thigs wouldn't go together, if the state, at the same time, said same sex couples are qualified to raise a family. You can adopt children, you can be foster parents.
You don't know what--what the Texas law is on that?

Mr Rosenthal: I do not know what the Texas law -- what the Texas law says in that regard.

Question: I think it would be relevant to your argument that they're making -- that Texas is making, the distinction between kinds of people who have family relationships and can be proper guardians of children and those who can't.

Later

Question: All right. So -- so what is the justification for this statute, other than, you know, it's not what they say on the other side, is this is simply, I do not like thee, Doctor Fell, the reason why I cannot tell. (I want to marry justice Breyer)

My Commentary

Jeebus Cripes, nekkid on a toast point.... I actually left out many of Chucky-boy's most inane arguments and quotes. If we lose this case, I give up on humanity.

I, of course, have maintained for years that Chuck Rosenthal and all his lackies are about three bats short of a belfry. Kindof vindicating to have the fucktard prove it for me, and so beautifully.

I must, however, commend Chucky-boy for refraining from refering to petitioners as "fairy boys." Gawd knows he was thinkin' it, the redneck twit.

Meanwhile, people tell me I should get the hell outta Texas. To them I say: Fuck no! My big gay ass is staying right here and fighting this shit. Oh, sure, California would be easier, but I find the prospect of being active in the community here much more rewarding, than in the land of milk and honey.

2003-06-13T13:59:00.000-05:00

http://www.lambdalegal.org/cgi-bin/iowa/documents/record?record=1267

From the Lamda Legal home page. I'll be at the rally, for sure.

Also from Lambda Legal:

http://www.supremecourtus.gov/oral_arguments/argument_transcripts/02-102.pdf

And still no national discourse. I haven't heard a damn thing about it, have you?

Somebody is a doing a good job keeping this one off the radar.

2003-06-10T23:23:00.000-05:00

It's Official

Everyone, EVERYONE, everyone wants Ewan McGreggor.

2003-06-09T12:49:00.000-05:00

Back the Insanity Train UP!

Am I nuts for schlepping my happy ass to North Carolina and picking up my boyfriend who I have not really properly met and then bringing him back here to cohabitate?

Meh. prolly.

But love isn't supposed to make sense.

And to those of you who have been warning me of the potential for pain:

Yeah, I knowm, it could all end in a snap. But I'm willing to take that risk. And even if it doesn't work out, I'm young and relatively stable. The end of one relationship won't break me. I've been through some serious shit, in my life. I think I can handle one boyfriend not working out, if that is even how things go. You people act like I'm delicate and naive, or something. Fuckitall (like Adderall, but more fun), but I am way stronger than you people seem to give me credit for.

Nevermind the FABULOUS support group I have to fall back on.

I'm not looking at this unrealistically, kids, I'm just looking at it OPTIMISTICALLY. Now, stop trying to kill my joy, and just get ready to pour me one FUCK of a drink if the fairy tale DOES come crashing down.

(and for now, I am going forward with my plans, and fuck the world)

2003-06-09T12:03:00.000-05:00

Interesting News Bits

Newspaper Editor Charged With Pimping

OSLO, Norway-The chief editor of a Norwegian newspaper has been charged with pimping after publishing ads for massage parlors and escort girls.

The public prosecutor said the adverts in Søndag Søndag were effectively advertising sexual services for money.

Chief Editor Nils Olav Bruteig told Nettavisen that he could not be held responsible for anything but what is written in the ads. "They are advertisements for escort services and massage services, both of which are legal in Norway," he said.

The Norwegian Federation of Editors said that the editor could only be held responsible for what is written in the newspaper. But spokesperson Marit Haukom added: "Still, I think the editor of Søndag Søndag is operating in a bit of a juridical minefield and, as such, should be prepared that someone will want to challenge his judgements."

Well, that *would* make it easier.

King Blames Trousers for World's Ills

MBABANE - Swaziland's absolute monarch has singled out women wearing trousers as the cause of the world's ills in a state radio sermon that also condemned human rights as an "abomination before God."

"The Bible says curse be unto a woman who wears pants, and those who wear their husband's clothes. That is why the world is in such a state today," Mswati, ruler of the impoverished feudal nation of about one million, said late on Thursday.

The Times of Swaziland reported that the monarch, who reigns supreme in the landlocked country run by palace appointees and where opposition parties are banned, went on to criticize the human rights movement.

"What rights? God created people, and He gave them their roles in society. You cannot change what God has created. This is an abomination before God," the king told an audience of conservative church leaders.

Women on the streets of capital Mbabane were not impressed. "The king says I am the cause of the world's problems because of my outfit. Never mind terrorism, government corruption, poverty and disease, it's me and my pants. I reject that," said Thob'sile Dlamini.

Mswati is Africa's last absolute monarch. He is currently married to nine wives, with a wedding pending for wife number 10, and has chosen an additional fiancee after reviewing videos of topless maidens performing a traditional Reed Dance ceremony.

Well, somebody tell Georgie-boy! It ain't Afghanistan (or Iraq, or Iran, or Syria) we should be after! It's Foley's! Damn them and their red apple sale!

2003-06-08T22:30:00.000-05:00

Love on an Escalator

He is my everything. I love him more than I can say. THe simple words I lay to paper are not enough to say.

Michael, I love you so much.

The weekend was fun. Gawd. Seems like nonstop partying or socializing, or just plain having fun, since the middle of last month.

I really don't have a lot to say. I have no real urge to write. I just feel so...drained, so creatively tapped. I have no impetus, no inspiration.

Funny, I used to write so eloquently of love, and now I have it... Frustration can fuel so much.

2003-06-06T03:25:00.000-05:00

Bermuda Love Triangle

I remember how this radio station I used to listen to had this "Cool Feelings" thing....

When you're a girl, and you introduce your boyfriend to some guy, and he falls in love with him, and then tells you he's gay....THAT'S a cool feeling.

Okay, yeah, it seems harsh. But, you know me. Humor is my defence mechanism. So, Michael told Lisa. Michael and I are now together, sans-triangleness.....

Lisa, sweetie, I am so, so sorry this had to go down this way. It really wasn't somethign any of us expected or could've helped. I still love you, dear, and so does Michael.

2003-06-02T17:17:00.000-05:00

Hummmm

Well, I now have comments, I think.

2003-05-28T00:48:00.000-05:00

String and Sealing Wax, and Bittersweet Tears

Puff the Magic Dragon

written by by Lenny Lipton (words) and Peter Yarrow (music) - of Peter, Paul and Mary.

PUFF, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal PUFF,
and brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff.

OH PUFF, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
PUFF, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,

Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail
Jackie kept a lookout perched on PUFF's gigantic tail,
Noble kings and princes would bow whenever they came,
Pirate ships would lower their flag when PUFF roared out his name

OH, PUFF, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
PUFF, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,

A dragon lives forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys.
One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
And PUFF that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
PUFF no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his life-long friend, PUFF could not be brave,
So PUFF that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave.

Oh! PUFF, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
PUFF, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee

*sniffle* Damnit. I love and hate that song. On the surface, a sweet and easy-to-sing song, a romp down the path to the 60's....

But look at it. Sing it. That is a deeply saddening song about the loss of innocence, folks. That is a song that speaks of what happens when we cease to dream, cease to play, and let our dreams and passions die, sad, alone, with green scales falling like rain.

Kids, never, ever let your dreams die. The world is a harsh, cold place, but our dreams, oh, our dreams are the warmth that protects us from that cold. When we let the simple pleasures of childhood fade, when we let our dragons die, we begin our own slow deaths. We begin to hate, when we let our dragons die. We go to war, we kill our fellow man, and we slowly kill ourselves, when we let our dragons die.

So, I'm going to go find some string and sealing wax, and take them to my dragon. Alonmg with as much fancy stuff as I can find!

I suggest you do the same.

(yeah, I admit it, I cry, every time I hear that song)

2003-05-27T22:20:00.000-05:00

Alright, Mary, mop me up! I've melted!

So, Michael and I were talking about how the soul just isn't accepted as currency, anymore. He was joking that he tried to sell his soul, several times, and nobody would buy it....

Orchidflowerchil: I will!
Orchidflowerchil: But I want the body and heart, too.
Sekci Bi Boi: hehe
Sekci Bi Boi: youve already got the heart

Damn, but he knows how to take my breath away, mary.

2003-05-26T15:16:00.000-05:00

Pride and Prejudice

Oooooh, sooky, sooky, now, let's get our rant on!

You know, pride is an interesting thing. It defines you, separates you, elevates you, and ultimately, fuels you. It's funny how you never expect it to well up, when it does, that pride. There are so many things that I have to be prideful of, and yet, the one I least expected yanked at me, yesterday.

I admit it. I'm trailer trash. I'm not exactly PROUD of growing up dirt-poor in a house that, quite literally, was falling apart, by the time I packed my shit and kissed that rat hole, and all the shit that I lived through therein, goodbye. But I'm not ashamed, either. I'm PROUD that I am just as fabulous and engaging as I want to be, despite my upbringing. I'm PROUD that I can think for myself, and I have the ability to look deeper than appearances and dwellings. That place where I was raised may be utter shit. And a lot of the crap I dealt with in it may be utter shit, but I, dear reader, am not, by far, utter shit. It's hard, now, to go back there. How my father continues to live in such squalor defies logic, but for me, I can't go in there without being depressed. Is *this* how I lived? Did I spend so much time walking gingerly, lest I hit a weak spot in the floor and actually fall through?

Yeah, I did.

And ya know what? I made it out. I may not be Donald fucking Trump, but I got the hell out of that, with both my sanity and my pride intact. Sure, I'm still living in a trailer, but damnit, that is so fucking fine it isn't even an issue. I live in happiness, here. My toilet works, my floor is sound, my roof don't leak, and my floors are clean. It isn't like I live the life of a fucking Jerry Springer guest.

And still people look down. How DARE some California transplant who left his wife for some white trash with two names (how fucking podunk is that?) look down on ME? Damnit, I'm a vibrant person with a sense of humour, a winning smile, a caring heart, and a brain. You know, I try not to judge people, but JESUS, I can't stand being judged, myself. How is it that someone can look past all the good, and focus on where and how someone lives. So, be prepared for that "lest ye be judged" clause to take effect, fucktard. You are no goddamned better than I am. And no amount of living the life can change that. You are a shallow, hateful man. Grow up.

So, Mr. I've-got-a-foundation-under-my-den-of-illegitimate-behaviour, what makes you so fucking better than me? Hmmm? Do you write in your spare time of love and loss and dream of that day when you go home to someone who loves you and you love, in return? Do you cry at sappy movies? Do you have an urge to rescue any animal in distress? Do you like driving backroads at 70 miles per hour and singing along with that kickass song from your childhood?

You probably do. Yeah, so do I.

So, you can take your holier-than-thou attitude, and you can turn it sideways, lube it up, and shove it right up your puckered ass, and kindly, kiss mine. Because I don't NEED your approval. I don't NEED your respect. Because, at the end of the day, I know just how much I'm worth, and your validation means fuck-all. Because, whether you like it or not, I love your daughters in a way that you probably can't comprehend. I love them like sisters, for who they are, not what they do. And you can't fucking change the fact that we are friends. Maybe, if you could look beyond trappings and appearances, you could fathom that. However, since you are about as deep as a puddle of cum on the floor of a men's room, I won't expect you to try.

Okay, rant off.

2003-05-25T18:12:00.000-05:00

UpChuckling

So, I just got an e-mail reminder from Ticketmaster about Margaret Cho on the 30th. Yayness! I love Margaret Cho. I love every fiber of her little Korean fag hag being. I watched every single episode of her short-lived sitcom, long before I knew what a hag was, and WAY before I EVER admitted to being a fag. She has a brand of humour that strikes a chord in me. That bawdy, dirty, tell-it-like-it-is, and if-you-don't-fucking-like-it-you-can-kiss-my-asian-ass comedy just fucking kicks ass. She's the Asian Richard Pryor...with a uterus. Gotta love that. I'm thinking I'll take Jess, Lori, and Shannon downtown, let them off somewhere near Rich's, go to the show, then meet them back at Rich's. Shannon and I need time together, anyway. Maybe I can talk her into getting a ticket....

Went to Houston, yesterday, to visit Diane. She was down from OK city to see her son graduate from HS. Gawd. You forget how tiny a person is, when your most ingrained memories of them are from when you yourself were five. 124lbs. Cripes, I could sling her around like a yoyo. It was really nice to see her, again, though. Gawd, but her daughter has grown. And I don't know what it is about me and kids, but they just LOVE playing with me. Stayed inm Houston, In Diane's hotel room, last night.

This morning, I got up and we went SHOPPING! I'm fucking Malibu Barbie. GAWD, but I love shopping. Got two faboo (Tommy and Polo) pairs of shoes and then drove back up here to BFE. Went to my Aunt Rosalie's annual crawfish bash, had a ball, had some mudbugs, and had some strawberry pie. Tonight, I watch QAF, and mebbe have a little cyber relations with a certain someone..... I love being young and cute.

2003-05-22T21:28:00.000-05:00

Rock Out

So, Jessie stayed over for a couple days. Was coo. She's all appreciative when she wakes up to capuccino and flapjacks.

Yeah, I'm either a big fag or a jewish mother. Take your pick.

Tuesday, we (Shannon, the twins, Mom, Dad, and myself) went to a PFLAG meeting. My dad is WAY too casual saying he's bi. Shit, man, that is supposed to be a HARD thing to say. It is something that is supposed to take years to reconcile, yo. Anywahoo.... The meting was fun... Dad took Shannon for a ride on his bike. She liked. So, there it is. My parents are all supportive and schtuff.

There is a new love interest. He's a sweetie, truly passionate and...just...wow.

I would post something terribly articulate and engaging, eloquent, even, but, I just don't have anything to say, at this point. When I get inspired, I'll write. For now, I'm just chilling after the end of the semester.

2003-05-14T16:12:00.000-05:00

Well, ya twit...DUH!

Never lick your hand after playing with oleander. Phytotoxicity sucks.

2003-05-12T13:12:00.000-05:00

It's Been a While

Three years, five months, in fact. The stress started really getting to me, last night. Ate three quarters of an 8" quiche, by myself, then went to the chinese buffet, this morning and absolutely gorged myself. About ten minutes ago, I purged. These are not good signs, people.

2003-05-11T21:30:00.000-05:00

Slutty Club Kid? ME? Never.

...okay, maybe...

Let's see....where to start?

Wednesday, I suppose...

Stonewall party was hella fun. Watched Broken Hearts Club. Mmmmm....Dean Cain as a gayboy....RAWR! Actually, it was a really good movie. Had a good time, had way too much pizza, and then left with Dex, Jess, Lori, and Ben....

Fastforward several hours and illegal activities....

...yup, still in material breach of 21.06....(yeah, not Dexter, ya freaks)

Stayed the night in Crystal's new appartment. I think I finally went to sleep atround 4, then got up at 7, when Chrys came back. I was kinda paranoid in there all alone until 4, as the others left at 2 or so. Why was I paranoid? Let's just say it was a side-effect of one of the previously mentioned illegal activities.....*ahem*

Went to class on Thursday. Fun stuff.

Friday, I wanted to go to Rich's, so I drove over to campus, picked up Lori, then drove (via a backroad shorcut) to the Woodlands to get Shannon, then down to Spring to take some flowers and a card to Jess and Lori's mom. We picked up Jess, too, because she wanted to go with us. Picked up Ben to take him to meet his friends, too. It was about 9:30 when we left their place. We went to the Cracker Barrel, after dropping off Ben, then on to the club (this was about 11). We got to the club at 1, after getting lost, then getting bogus directions.

Shannon and I spent the next two hours on the dance floor, shaking our groove things, while Jess and Lori came and went. Some random hot guy came up behind me, at some point, and danced with me. That was fun. "Derek Rei" was there, said hi, and conversed with us for a while. I spent a half hour or so on the box, but I am SO spending more time there, next time.....

I was told that I am a diva. And ya know what? I am. I'm thinkin' I need to make some faerie wings for the next time at Rich's. Maybe some ribbons on sticks, too.

Heading back up 45 to go get Ben, the car overheated. Shannon and I schlepped to the gas station and got water, after getting some from a couple of guys that stopped to oggle Shannon's breasts. The battery died because we left the hazard lights on, so we had to push it a bit and get it jumped, tehn we had to get gas because Ben was not where he said he would be. Had to get it jumped, again. Eventually, we got Ben, then took Jess and Lori hom, then Shannon drove to her place, Ben took the wheel, and we came back home. I got back here at about 8AM. I was WAY too tired at 6, when we left Jess and Lori's to drive.

Left the house: 5PM
Got to the club: 1AM
Got home: 8 AM

Good times.

Saturday, not much happened.

Today, I just pretty much let mom have peace, and did whatever she needed done.

(and I have come to realize, lonliness is a state of mind. I've stopped hoping and huinting for love. Love will find me)

2003-05-01T11:01:00.000-05:00

Lonely

Okay, it is sad and pathetic, and all, but damnit, I'm lonely. I want someone to hold, to caress, to caress me and tell me I'm not as bad as I think. There it is. I'm a tragic romantic and I want to have those Scarlett and Rhett kisses, the Emmett and Ted stability. Sue me. I need love, and I have so much to give. I want the happily-ever-after. And the white picket fences. I'm an idealist and a total girl, and please, won't someone tell me that's okay?

I want to have it all, I suppose. The little blond queen from the farm wants to grow beyond his trailer trash origins and find Prince Charming. Oh, how fucking cute. But really, it is a matter of my own pride. I KNOW what I have to give, and how much that is worth. I know I am worthy of the love and affection i so need.

But it would be nice if someone would tell *me* that. My heart and my mind are at war. In my head, I KNOW I am so much more than a piece of blond boy ass, but my heart needs convincing. My heart still hits me with that tremor of doubt, sometimes. My heart still cowers and shrinks, fearing the damage that another can cause. And you come to a point where you think, "hey, maybe ANY attention is good attention!" Then you just end up some burned-out whore, trying to convice yourself that the guy that just tossed a ten spot in your general direction after zipping up is what you need. You try to tell yourself that sex *is* love.

But you still want that warmth and compassion. You want to be held and soothed 'till the morning light.

And, despite what I've done, I'm really not a whore. Not yet. And I never will be.

I'll find love, or rather, it will find me. The fairy tale can come true.

2003-04-28T11:53:00.000-05:00

Big. Gay. Weekend

Saturday, we had the Stonewall/Global BIG GAY PICNIC AND SOFTBALL EXTRAVAGANZA.

I made cookies.

And met a porn star.

That's right.... A porn star. You just don't know how giddy that makes me, dear reader. Yes indeed....

(DO NOT OPEN THE LINK BELOW IF YOU ARE AT ALL OFFENDED BY GAY PORN!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

Derek Rei

Mmmmm-hmmmm! Yeah, he's funny. He's hot, too, but he was not what I focused on. Although i do have a hilarious picture of him at bat on the softball field with a cigarette in his mouth.

No, the unfortunate object of my attentions was a cutie with olive skin and full lips. Lips that are soft and taste loverly.

No, I'm not in love, folks, I'm in lust. BIG difference.

At any rate, Jessie, the hottie I was all over this weekend, and I went walking around campus, my hand in his back pocket or around his waist pretty much the whole time. It was fun freaking out the normals.

Big, gay Softball was great. Gay Mafia won (15-14). Yay for Gay!

After softball, pretty much all of us moved the party down to Shannon's. We crammed 15 people into a hot tub built for six, then played Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever.

I love Laura. She made my day when she dared the cutie with the dark skin to give my nipple an oral workout. Whoo. And ya know, he really got into it. You know, WAY more than if he were just doing it to fulfill a dare.

We (Cutie, Jess, Lori, and I) stayed in that hot tub until 5 aye ehm. Good times.

We crashed soon thereafter, then we went to a late breakfast at a nice Mexican restaurant. After the restaurant, we went to the bagle shop to grab some food for Shannon's forebears. We kinda weirded out the people there with Jess, Lori, Cutie, and I all in that intertwined thing. Nobody would join our group hug! Silly normals. We then went back to Shannon's place, spent a good portion of the afternoon in the pool, again, playing and being silly, then we ordered White Oleander (fantabulous movie, kids! Read the book, too!), ordered some pizza, had some hard-hitting discussion on civil rights and the law over food, then packed it up and went home.

Monday was rather uneventful.

Tuesday I realized, by listening to Dr. Morphew speak on eating disorders, that I have a seriously whacked body image, and that I may border on bullemia. Oh, good, good times.

I got my Stonewall t-shirt on Wednesday. YAY! Some folks don't like the new design. Aside from the fact that we had to omit yellow from the rainbow, I like them. A lot.

Besides, black is slimming.

2003-04-19T13:28:00.000-05:00

Oh, For the Love of....

"Dear Sir/Madam, You may be surprised to receive this letter from me since you do not know me personally. The purpose of my introduction is that I am nanda Kutanda, the first daughter of dika kutanda one of the most popular black farmer in Zimbabwe who was recently murdered in the land dispute in my country. I got your contact through network online hence decided to write you. Before the death of my father, he had taken me to Johannesburg to deposit the sum of USD$12.5 million (Twelve million, Five Hundred thousand United States dollars), in one of the private security company, as he foresaw the looming danger in Zimbabwe this money was deposited in a box as gem stones to avoid much demurrage from security company. [much BS omitted] Contact me with the above E-mail addresse,while I implore you to maintain the absolute secrecy required in this transaction. GOD BLESS Yours Faithfully, Nanda Kutanda "

Nanda Kutanda? Did they come up with that name singing that name song? Amanda banda nanda kutanda banana fanna bobana!

I wonder how well these things work, 'cause honey, I could *seriously* use 12.5 mil.

My Week

Well, from Tuesday until Friday, I lived on campus. Hey, Sexyman, YOU deal with the smell of Kirkley Hall and tell me I need to live on campus. It seriously harshed on my hair. Jack shack, maybe, but the rooms are like closets.

Then again, the men's floors aren't as nice. Boys stink. (the original typo ("...ass nice.") could also be left in. Boys have flat tuchuses, far too often)

Tuesday, of course, I had the FMLA meeting. Went well. Meredith spoke. Gods, that girl has been through a lot.

SPA meeting, after, was seriously dramatic. You could cut the tension with a knife. Sometimes, I think we get so bent out of shape abouth things that have so little consequence as a way of dealing with much bigger issues, in an indirect fashion. It is safer to handle the tiny shit as a sublimation of your feelings on the bigger shit.

Wednesday, Lori and I got the Stonewall table set up again at 11:00AM.

Cut to five hours later:

Lori: JOIN OUR ORGANIZATION! YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE GAY!
Me: Oy, Lorelei, you have issues.
Lori: JOIN OUR....
Me: O-reo, o-o-reo! What's in the middle? The white stuff!

Yeah, five hours in the sun, and our brains were baked.

Some thoroughly creepy guy from the food court followed me OUT of the food court, seemingly to make a rather creepy pass at me. Why older black guys like me so much is beyond me. ANYWAY, I swear he had to be high. He asked me if I "get down." None of us are sure exactly what that means, but it seriously creeped me out. My response:

"Ummmmm....I gotta go over here, now....JESSIE! HELP!"

At 4:00PM, Lore and I turned the tables and chairs in, and went to the regular meeting room just to sit, cool of, and talk for a couple hours.

At about ten till six, some girl came in, sporting a signed confirmation of room reservation for the Hispanic Culture somethingorother. We did not contest it, but I went to where the officers were meeting and told James that we did not have a room. He fairly leaped from his chair. Boy, he was rather miffed. I bet the chick that signed that room reservation caught hell from him AND Dexter.

Meeting was basically elections.

Committee afterwards went well. I need to write a couple letters to send to state legislatures.

After the committee, we pretty much had a grope fest. Ah, good times.

Jasmine's legs taste great. I gotta ask her what lotion she uses.

Went bowling, had a great time, didn't bowl, but played hella songs on the juke box and watched Jana and Gloria be absolutely adorable. Yay for lesbians!

Stopped by Blockbuster with Jennifer and Arnita, on the way. Got Dirty Dancing (Collector's Edition) for $10. YAY!

Thursday, I went to class, all responsible-like.

Then I got drunk off my ass and turned into a slut, Thursday night. I was all over Fish. Hehe. I'm glad he's cool. And his neck tastes yummy. Wonder if the you-know-what we played on you-know-who panned out....

Orchid News

Friday, I came home. Cattleya Hardyana is in bloom. Looks good, smells great. Two flowers, this time. Woulda been three, but cold damage claimed one bud and crippld another. The one flower is REALLY nice, though. (photograph from last year's blooming)

In fact, the whole greenhouse is looking good (and smelling good)!

In spike/sheath:

Den Elated
Enc. alata (2)
Asco curvifolium
Colmanara somethignorother (no, I am not gonna go checkl the tag for you....too much effort)
Several rupiculous Laelias
Rhyncholaelia digbyana
C. luteola
Cyrtopodium punctatum
Phrag longifolium

In bud:

Onc. leitzii
Phal Ed Wright
Phjal mannii
Onc. Fan Dancer 'Richella'
Onc Sundown Reef
Onc. rhodostictum

In bloom:

C. Hardyana
Epi pseudepidendrum
Lc. Rojo (it looks a lot better, this year, than last)
Slc Jewel Box
Max. tenuifolia
Max. variabilis
Phal schilleriana

All the C. aurantiacas just went out of bloom, as did Trichopilia suavis.

I'm sure there are more, but I'm not gonna go out to the GH with a clipboard. That's WAY too anal.

Regularly Scheduled Slutting

Natalie Portman, I would SO go straight for you.

2003-04-13T11:22:00.000-05:00

Yet Another Week in Review

Tuesday

Classes, of course. I need to study more for my World Civ tests. It is a good idea, just in general.

Did not go to Environmental Sci. Old Man Deshaw bores me, sometimes, and I had more stuff to work on for FMLA

Went to FMLA meeting. We voted, officially on Vice President and Publicity chair. Cory actually got chair, and we just made it a committee and stuck me on it.

Wednesday

Classes, again. Wheee. *ahem* *barf*

Environmental Sci lab was fun. Jebus, but a certain entomologist is SEXY! We schlepped out to Buttfuck, Egypt to do tree counting. Relatively unproductive lab, as we learned nothing of consequence. But, it was a glorious day for a schlepp.

Mention made of Stonewall elections. Passionate pleas by several officers for new candidates to take things seriously. Dot got kindof emotional.

Conference Committee after was interesting. Nothing much to report from any of us, but we now have assignments. Dexter was on no-sleep, and thus out of it.

Midnight Foolishness

Went to Midnight Madness at HKC with patty, Jazzy, Rachel, and Dot. Dot played cards. The rest of us played twister, musical chairs, ate corndogs, and then did karayoke. Patty and I did Sonny and Cher in a rousing rendition of "two drunk monkeys on crack sing 'I Got You Babe.'" I tried to go for it, and I think I did hit some notes, but Patty made me laugh too much to really pull the song off. Oh well, what is college for but to be stupid with your friends?

Meanwhile, Jazzy actually does a PROFESSIONAL-style video. That bitch.

Phil's bed is much more comfortable, now that he's actually moved in to Jess and Lore's room.

(I still say it would be most comfrotable with Phill in it)

Thursday

I managed seven hours of silence before I sneezed, was blessed, and then thanked the blesser before I kne what I was doing. Feck.

Jessie met my mom. Cool beans.

Friday

FMLA officer meeting. Cory suggested I be made PR chair. I suggested co-chairs. That way, I can bounce ideas off Cory.

Newspaper office was closed before I got there. Oh well, we'll run the ad next week.

Weekly Offer

Elvira: Yeah, it may take a lot of booze to get me drunk and have your way with me. I'll start early and we can finish late.

That Guy From the Wedding (see below) with the Blond Hair: I have fabulous lips. They would look better wrapped around the head of your....*ahem*....

Saturday

Jeff and Allie's wedding. Nice service, funny, light, quick. Bada bing, bada boom, matrimony.

So, a Catholic and Presbyterian got married in a Methodist Church by a Baptist Preacher.....(bad joke ensues)

Got drunk off my ass at the reception. Bacardi (two glasses straight, one rum & coke), butter shots ('bout a quarter bottle), and two varieties of wine (five or six glasses blush, two red). Apparently, I am "like Rodney Dangerfield, but drunk," when I'm drunk. I get no respect. Take my wife...please!

Oh wait....

Take my not-so-much-boyfriend-as-man-what-holds-the-keys-to-my-heart, please.

Thanks to Brenda, second cousin extraordinaire, for the drunk. Here's hopin' you don't feel like shit.

(she did, after all, sit there and drink right with me)

Amazingly, Allie and Terri didn't get into it. Walking between them, however, even if they were across the room from each other, was like being caught in a stream of liquid nitrogen.

Sunday

....and no hangover. Shit, I *would* be born with a naturally high tolerance.

2003-04-07T23:37:00.000-05:00

My Week in Review

Wednesday

Went to classes, went to Stonewall. Formed committee to eventually lead to national conference of university Gay rights groups. Went bowling later, crashed with Lore and Jess. Typical Wednesday evening, for me.

Thursday

Got forms for table for Stonewall, got signature of faculty advisor, filled out forms, ran to LSC, turned in forms, took test, ran to Kirkley, got materials, got Lore and Jess, Got table, set up table, sat at table, passed out flyers, went to class, and then sat at table more, later.

Getting a table for Gay and Lesbian Awareness Week was a good idea. Besides it certainly gave me exercise, running all over like that. We may not have gotten a lot of positive attention, but my goal is to get us OUT there.

Pun intended.

Friday

Blew off class to watch QAF with Jess and Lore, then got table, and proceeded to repeat as necessary from above. Watched more QAF after we turned in the table.

Then went with Patty to Patty's dorm and got all pretty for shopping with the FMLA at Woodlands Mall. Boy, I had fun boyhunting with Jasmine. We went to Club Libby Loo. Good god, I didn't know you could OD on glitter. Now, I know.

Patty said I looked hetero. I had the urge to shower. Funny how some things cease to be compliments when you no longer aspire to them.

Anyway, it was a fun time.

We came up with the idea for a joint formal dance between Stonewall and SPA.

Crashed in Patty's room. Wow, whatta girly shower. How many forms of body wash and shampoo can four girls have. Oh, wait... I bet I have the same number if I quadruple myself.

Patty is such a gay man, on the inside. She watches musicals before bed.

BTW

Miss Elvira Kurt is my goddess.

Saturday

Got up early for SPA trip to Houston. Lots more shopping then, too. Lots! Cole told me I looked hetero. Yeeps.
Saw one FOINE ass at Whole Foods. Patty and I commented. Mmmmmm….manass.

We hit several magick shops, a couple bookstores, and just had a grand time.

Sunday

Watched Delores Claiborne. Gads, I love Kathy Bates. Fabulous actress.

That's it, in a nutshell.

I gotta go de-heteroify.

2003-04-07T12:50:00.000-05:00

Reality is SO Overrated

There are those that say love cannot happen over the internet; that it is not REAL if it is not face-to-face. I can tell you, I have had some pretty unreal relationships in RL. And yet, the most powerful, true, and honest feelings I have ever had for someone are for someone I have never met. He has touched my soul on a deeper level than anyone I have ever kissed. He was there in a time of need and he scaled every wall, jumped every fence, and obliterated every defense around my heart. He took a fragile, scared, and vulnerable boy and turned him into the confident and sensual being you see before you in the span of a few months.

Still, there are those that deny the reality of what I feel for him. I suppose I was one of them, not so very long ago. Internet romance? *snork* Tell me another one, I need the endorphin rush. Yet still, here I am, finding every word this distant soul speaks to mine as sweet as summer honeysuckle. His words, his heart, his humor, they fold me into a warmth and comfort that is so new, so fresh, so pure. There is no connection between us, physically, but this thing is the closest I have been to spirituality for years. Deny all you will, but I know, in my heart, this is as real as anything anyone has ever had in the physical world. After all, to claim love is a physical thing seems so materialistic. When you get down to it, love is so much more. After all, my body is so fleeting, so fragile, but my heart will go on.

This love is like being blind, in a way. I feel him, though I do not see him. I know intimately the profile of his heart, his mind, despite the fact that I know of his face only from pictures. I feel him in my heart, in places that I have never given access to anyone else.

Call it a facade. Call it fantasy. Call it all a lie. Call it what you will, but don't tell me what I feel. When and where it matters, this thing is as true as the sting of a blade, as real as the cold of a stream, as warm as the sun upon my face.

Yes, it hurts, sometimes. The soaring heights of elation I feel at his simple words and witty puns are brought down by the distance betweeen us, but in the end, even if this can't be, in the physical world, two minds, two hearts, and two souls connected in a way that will never leave me.

To you, my love, I give my heart, without fear, without shame, and most of all, without regret.

Dedicated to DC (aka Sexyman). You are my Lucifer -- my light bringer -- and part of me will always love you, no matter who and what I experience in the future.

2003-04-02T12:26:00.000-06:00

BONG!

*skkrzzzk*Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. If you haven't noticed, I *AM* working on the page. Please note that the logos to the left (Stewardess gestures towards left) are LINKED to various organizations. Also note, the quip at the sidebar above (Stewardess guestures upward) has changed, and will do such on the first of every month, henceforth. The links to various pages I find amusing are now to the left, below the icons (Stewardess points left and down). Also note, the seatbelt light *IS* on, so please remain seated until such time as we deem it safe to turn such off. This is a non-smoking flight, and if you look out your window, you can see Godzilla and Mothra battling to the death.

What? It's my universe, in here.

Besides, "King Ghidorah" is too hard to spell. *skkrzzzk*

2003-04-02T11:24:00.000-06:00

PHEER My Mad Graphic Design Skillz!

Yeah, this is the sticker design I have for Stonewall. Mostly, I am posting this for Tony. We need to see this thing in color, at the meeting. No, it won't be that big. Only about 60% that size, but.....

Semantics

I have been informed by a fellow FMLA-er that we are not Feminazis. Damn, you mean I can't hate men?

Annoying, Yet?

There is a cricket in the computer lab. It is driving me mad. I may have to go on a rampage.

2003-04-01T22:27:00.000-06:00

Come to a Meeting! We'll Elect You!

So, yeah, I told Rachel I would come to an FMLA meeting, you know, to give the room another penis.

No, really, I *AM* a feminist. Steel Magnolias is not my favorite movie for no reason!

Anyway, the Veep of FMLA had stepped down, being as she has no time to come to meetings, so that position was open, as was PR officer.

Yup. I'm the PR officer for the Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance. What do ya know? Oh well, Feminazis, unite!

Where Does it Come From?

Went to Walmart with the Maternal Unit, tonight. She had the stock dude afraid to come back when he went to the back and there was no Dr. Thunder. Then she talked to the manager. And she wonders where the drama queen tendencies come from.... Yeesh.

I had her generally in tears, again, with my humorous observations about various products.

Price Check?

At the top of the list of things I don't want to see on a clearance rack are Condoms and personal lubrication. BOTH were on clearance at Walmart. Call me a snob, but I prefer to splurge when it comes to products made by Trojan.

2003-03-30T15:07:00.000-06:00

Glitter Queens and Faerie Wings

SO, went to Rich's in Houston, on Friday. First time in a gay club, and I had so-fucking-much fun! Four Companions left Huntsville on a Multicoloured Magical Tour to the depths of the Houston Night Life. We went in the car of Patty, Numer Two Hag Extraordinaire. In this conveyance were Patty, her friend Jacob (gay friendly guy who figured it would be fun to go to a gay club (although we have yet to figure out why he had to dress like he was in the next sequel to The Matrix)), my friend Lorelei, and Myself. Of course, Lorelei and Jesse decided it would be fun to dress me up, so, of course, we did. It is amazing how good I look in a corset. I have truly missed my calling as a drag queen. I had on my black jersey pants, a skintight little Betty Boop tank top, and the black corset (over the tank). The pants and corset together made it look like I had on a body suit, actually. I looked like a large, German Dominatrix. Next time, I dress slightly more normal, or we may go all-out drag. If I do go all out drag, I think it will be something built around that corset (Lorelei gave it to me, as it is too big for her), and it will definately involve a lot of safety pins. Punk drag...whoohoo!

Patty and I need to go to Montrose and get me some p0rno shoes.

So, we headed out to Houston. Patty, of course, loved my...err...outfit. But, she's a sub, so, of course she did. We drove on down, stopped at Jacob's house, and then on to the club. We were only lost for an hour in and around Downtown. Then, realizing I was the only one with a sense of direction whatsoever in the car, I got Jacob to hand me the directions..... The bastard Mapquest map was UPSIDE-FUCKING-DOWN. So, we got thoroughly lost and ended up in cracktown/industrial district.

Lorelei: "This is no place for a big blond man in a corset and a Lesbian in large boots!"
Me: "I'm afeared!"
Lorelei: "Me, too!"
Both: "EEEEEEEEK!!!!!"

It was about then that I realized the map was upside down.

Me: "WAIT! BREATHE! We've been going the wrong way. The evil Mapquest strikes again!"

So, I turrned the map over, told Patty to get to Caroline, and go almost all the way to 45, then get back on San Jacinto (Patty: "It's so cute that you say it like a Latino (SAHN ha-SEEN-toe, what can I say? I grew up with a lot of hispanic people and used to be fluent in Spanish)!"). We found the place in three minutes. We parked, we paid, and in we went. We got there right around 11:00PM, and NOBODY was on the dance floor. We waited around, for a bit, and then people started showing up and getting on the floor. Aaron ran into us and we eventually made it down to the floor at about 11:30. I, of course, just danced my ass off until two. Lorelei took convincing. A little faerie dust got her to move, a bit, but after about a half hour, she was really tired, so I took her to the bar.

"Two Red Bulls," said I.
To which the Bartender replied "Seven bucks."
"Kewl," said I. "Here," I said, handing one to Lorelei, "drink this."

She did.

"It tastes like pixie sticks!" she said.

Let me tell you, that shit really DOES give you wings.

About five minutes later, the joy juice hit Lorelei and she spasmed on the dance floor like she was having a siezure for two hours straight. The joy juice turned me into Madonna, as I had this sudden urge to vouge. And vouge I did....for two hours. Dead, expressionless face, and the rest of me just all over the place.

I also did a lot of freak dancing with patty. Mmmmm...dry humping onf dance floor....

Shortly before the joy juice was procured, I was rather hot on the floor (I really let the music take me), so I went to the bathroom to wet my hair down, a bit. There was this guy at the sink next to me (cute as hell, dark hair, nice ass), with his left foot extended back and left. To get to the sink, I had to put my right foot between his feet and lean over his leg. He looked at me and said "I love your glitter, baby (I was REALLY sparkly, as I doused myself in silver glitter)!"

I was a fool, though. I muttered a giggly "thanks," and ran to Patty to tell her I got hit on. She looked at me, blankly, and asked me why I wasn't dancing with him.

Oh, shit. I KNEW I forgot something.

Note to self: Next time, pull hair up into little knots and gell the sticky-out bits so you get something punkish and off the neck.

Further note: Goddamn it, ya twit, when a hot guy hits on you, in a club, grab his ass and get on the dance floor. Jebus, what are you, an amatuer?

Oh well, despite the missed chance to dance with hot bathroom guy, I did get hit on, which is a huge ego boost, and even huge-er when James left in a snit because he did not get hit on.

So, we got the Red Bull, I danced a good two and a half hours, and then we went home. Jacob never did dance, and we left at two because he was tired. We'll probably stay later, next time, as we doubt he'll come again.

So, we got back to Huntsville (at 3AM-ish), and I was to crash with Jesse and Lorelei. Lore and I were still hyper and giggly. Jesse told us to shut the fuck up, as she was trying to sleep. We giggled a bit more, but finally quieted down. I swear, we were fucking BLOWN on Red Bull.

We have decided to make weekly trips to Rich's, now. ...with Red Bull a-plenty...

Neither of us slept very well. We finally gave up and just got up at 8:30. Then we got ready for Saturday at Sam. Mind you, we were still high off Red Bull. We were acting REALLY stupid, but we thought we were funny. We got a table near an outlet, so Jesse and I went back to their room and got their rotating light ball. Eventually, we had Jennifer and Arnita's FAB-fucking-TACULAR tri-fold, some printed info I got, a bunch of flyers that I brought, the light ball, a CD player with techno music, rainbow beads, rainbow M&M's, rainbow Pixie Sticks, a huge rainbow flag, and all sorts of shit on our table.

It rocked.

It was a freakin' visual extravaganza.

Nevermind about ten of us standing around it, dancing. Lorelei and I had started to loose the Red Bull buzz, at this point. So, of course, we ate Pixie Sticks. We ate Pixie Sticks and Coke for breakfast. HELLOOOOOO, SUGAR HIGH!

So, yeah, Saurday at Sam went well. We handed out a lot of, flyers, and this one guy I saw, earlier, who really pinged my gaydar, picked up stuff and signed up on our little sign-in sheet.

...
...
...

Score!

(He was really cute.)

The Feminist Majority Alliance was next to us, on the right. I like them, they are kewl. I think I will go to a meeting and see if I like it. The Methodists were next to us, as well, on the left. By choice. Odd, that.

After S@S closed down, a bunch of us from Stonewall and FMA went to Wendy's, where we ate, dicussed all kinds of things (like declaring one of the Feminists a Prophet and erecting temples to her...detachable penises, too...we sullied the family orientation of Wendy's.). About an hour after that, Lore and I started to come down off our sugar high. We got Titties to take us to Walmart, bought more Red Bull, and were high all night. We went to Stanley's room. It took a lot not to tell Stanley that he may be the nerdiest nerd that ever nerded up a room. We watched his Simpsons tapes and Lore, Jess, and I laughed like we were on gads-know-what. Later, we went back to Jess and Lore's room, watched some really bad porn, laughed a LOT more, and generally sat around high as kites on caffiene.

Eventually, I got Dot to come by and give me a ride home. She showed up looking like a goddamned catalogue girl. Why did she hit on me when she was all scuzy? Jebus, she puts forth just a bit of effort and she's gorgeous.

So, I got home at about 1:00AM, last night. 'Twas a great weekend of college life. Party on, Garth!

At some point, On Saturday, we went to Jack Shack and tried to find Gloria, to procure gay porn. It didn't happen, as she was not there, but I left the following note on the dudaflatchie by her door:

"GLo,

We wuz here, where wuz U? --CJ and his crew GAY MAFIA!"

Boy, that was stupid. Told you we were blown on Red Bull and Pixie Sticks.

Other News

Mandi, I can't e-mail you. AOL keeps bouncing my e-mails. I don't get it. I will try with my hotmail addy, later.

Weekly Offers

Elvira, I want to dip you in chocolate pudding and spoon it off of you as slow as possible with a tiny, silver, baby spoon.

Hot bathroom guy: If I see you again, this time, WE DANCE!

The End?

So, there was my weekend. Fun times.

2003-03-27T22:03:00.000-06:00

Quips, Quotes, and Catchphrases

"Speaking of tired... I played contrabassoon for two hours today... challenging piece, too. Byt he end of rehearsal I was gaspoing for breath like Orson Welles running the Boston Marathon." --Kat, in regards to a discussion about health teachers, of all things. Any woman who can make similies involving Orson Welles is perfectly shibby, in my book.

"This isn't ale! This is ROOT ALE! Bring me ALE, wench!" --Lorelei. 'Nuff said.

"Jesus fucking Christ, naked on a cracker!" --Me, as my new catchphrase for a bit. Modified from a Vancome Lady quip.

"I think I lost forty pounds in my tits!" --Angela.

"Is it just me, or does CJ really like to talk?" --Anonymous question at Stonewall meeting.

Yes, yes I do. Thanks for noticing!

That's it, for now. More later, as clubbing, volunqueering, and legal beagleing is to be blogged on, soon.

2003-03-24T12:40:00.000-06:00

Not Dead Yet!

Okay, so yeah, I have a bit to blog about.

Is it me, or are these "I-am-the-such-and-such of this-and-that-buttfuck-country-and-I-have-a-business-deal-for-you" e-mail scams getting a little tired? NOBODY believes you, anymore. Hell, some people play along just to see how long you'll keep it up. I just got one from the widow of the late president of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Riiiiiiight, because an African first lady is begging my white trash ass for some fundage, suuuuuurrre!

In Other News

So, yes, the war. I'm not a dove, frankly, and neither am I a hawk. Call me a seagull. At any rate, I support our troops, I don't really support the "action," per-se, but I don't not support it. I think it needs to be done, and it really couldn't be done well, but it could've been done better. At any rate it's about damn time we fix Swartzkopf's fuck-up.

Armed helicopters, indeed. Kiss the rebels goodbye!

Swift resolution is all I hope for. Let's kick Sad Damn's dick tater ass and get our boys and girls home.

To Mr. Apples

If the crack I made to you-know-who about you-know-what pissed you off, sorry. Innocent fun and all.

Spring Break

Spring break is decidedly less fun when you are broke.

And boredom is a dangerous thing.

'Nuff said.

Be Afraid

No, really, at some point, I will organize my opinions of this war. Quake with fear.

Oscarmania!

I think the molestation of Halle Berry has made my week. The look on her face when Adrien Brody disengaged his lips (and tongue! (yippee!)) from hers was absolutely priceless. Right up there with "you like me, you really like me!" in the list of great moments in Oscar history.

And the fact that that Moore twit was boo'd off stage was rather gratifying.

All hail Chicago, for Chicago kicked ass. Renee didn't bring Best Actress back to Katy, but judging by the look on her face before the announcement of the winner, I think she may well have just passed out. Besides which, Nicole deserved it.

And boy, am I glad they toned down the glitz.

And is it me, or was that hair all wrong for Meryl?

Meanwhile, thank the gods that Adaptation only took home one. Damn Hollywierd drek. Bad book, worse movie, oh well.

Class Dismissed

French lab just ended, I guess this concludes my blogging, for now.

2003-03-18T21:49:00.000-06:00

Oh, who are we kidding?

Diamonds Are A Boy's Best Friends

The French were bred to die for love
They delight in fighting duels
But I prefer a man who lives
And gives expensive jewels
A kiss on the hand may be quite continental
But diamonds are a boy's best friend
A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental
On your humble flat, or help you at the automat
Men grow cold as boys grow old
And we all lose our charms in the end
But square cut or pear shaped
These rocks don't lose their shape
Diamonds are a boy's best friend

Tiffany's, Cartier
Talk to me, Harry, Winston,tell me all about it
There may come a time when a lad needs a lawyer
But diamonds are a boy's best friend

There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer
Thinks you're awful nice
But get that ice or else no dice
He's your guy when stocks are high
But beware when they start to descend
It's then that those louses go back to their spouses
Diamonds are a boy's best friend
I've heard of affairs that are strictly platonic
But diamonds are a boy's best friend
And I think affairs that you must keep liaisonic
Are better bets if little pets get big baggettes
Time rolls on and youth is gone
And you can't straighten up when you bend
But stiff back or stiff knees
You stand straight at Tiffany's

Diamonds
Diamonds
I don't mean rhinestones
But Diamonds
Are A Boy's Best Friends

I mean, really, who are we kidding? I'll take diamonds, furs, and fast cars, any day.

Bad, bad man!

I am terrible in that I am a week behind on my weekly offers!

Miss Elvira Kurt: Take me!

Short, simple, to-the-point.

WORK!

If I don't post for several days in a row, just assume I have 18 bazillion projects on my hands, okay? I'll post more, tomorrow.

2003-03-12T16:37:00.000-06:00

Turquoise, the New Green!

You have turquoise hair. You are very creative and
free-spirited. You are incredibly unique, and
never seem to like the same thing as the next
person. You often spot new trends before anyone
else does, but whether or not you follow is
entirely up to you.

What is your inner anime hair color?
brought to you by Quizilla

Well, it may not be green, but.....

I'm actually everything but pink and lavendar. Just by the descriptions.

Maybe I just have that many personalities in here. It would explain much.

2003-03-11T11:38:00.000-06:00

Phases don't Phase Me

As I mentioned in the last blog post, Mom seems to be clinging to a shred of hope that this boylove thing may just be a phase. Poor woman. If she only knew. Like I said, eight years old. Awful damn long phase. I really think this is just the adjustment phase. I think part of her knew all along, in her heart, that I was different. That probably worked better for her than making the mind aware of the facts. That's a rather...different...prospect. Once you let yourself be cognatively aware of things like this, you have to *think* about it.

At any rate, I'm sure she will adjust, it'll just take her some time.

2003-03-09T22:11:00.000-06:00

Driving Miss Crazy

What a day for a drive! Mom and I went to visit some family, today. I drove, and I cranked Miss Mary Chapin Carpenter and Miss Martina McBride. Nothing like "I Feel Lucky" and "Wild Angels" to make a ride fun. Wind in my hair and a song on my lips.

Mom was hardly so relaxed. She never is, when I am behind the wheel. I think she will cringe, every time I get behind the wheel, until the day she dies, just by way of the psychic conection. She gets absolutely batty when she is the passenger. Then she gets pissy when i tell her to shut up and ride.

It's not as if I am a terrible driver. Hell, SHE taught me to drive.

Nevermind that I get the feeling she is hoping this liking boys thing is a phase.... But that is another blog for another day.

Memory Lane

I need to just LIVE on Memory Ln. I spend enough time there. I have been thinking back on my loves and losses and crushes, over my life, lately. I remember the face of the first boy I had a crush on. I remember his blue eyes, and his soft, wavy, brown hair. I remember the catch in his voice, that outward expression of the powerful forces at work within his 8th grade body. I remember his hands. I remember the scar across the top of the second knuckle of his right hand, and the long fingers, so unlike my own. I remember his chin. He had one of those little cleft chins, and a dimple, a dimple on the left side of his face. I remember so many details about him. I remember the way he laughed, and casually brushed his hair out of his face. I remember the way he got that scar across his hand from socking a kid that was picking on me in the teeth. He really decked the kid, too. Damn sixth grader. I remember the day I smuggled one of my dad's Club Magazines into school, and we sat at a picnic table behind the tool shed, at the corner of the petting zoo, over towards the 4th grade classroom/library. I remember sitting next to him, our thighs toughing, my left, his right, the magazine spread out across his lap. I remember looking up at his face and wanting him to kiss me. I remember realizing that was weird, but still wanting it. I remember so many details. I remember the yodeling knock-knock joke he told me, that I tell to this day. I do not, however, remember his name.

It's funny that we can remember so much for so long. I was eight years old when I felt all these things. Yes, I was eight years old and seriously crushing on an eighth grade boy. Still, I can't remember his name. I can remember nearly all the names of nearly all the girls I kissed and had crushes on, back then. I can remember my crush on Mrs. Southwell, my first grade teacher. I can barely remember what she looked like. I know she had light brown hair and maybe blue eyes, but nothing definite. I can remember her name, but I can remember the way my knight in shining armour's deep blue eyes would sparkle when he told a bawdy joke.

I can remember later crushes on boys. I won't use their names, here, but I remember them. Still, that first evades me. I grope and reach for his name, in my mind. I find more and more details in there, but no name to put to this handsome face.

Perhaps a name really isn't important. What's in a name, after all? Either way, I still remember how much I needed him to kiss me, then, and how I played it off when he looked at me, and I was looking at him, all dreamily, instead of the dirty magazine in his lap.
Maybe memories are better without the names. The feelings are what we hold to. A name is a silly thing that our parents ascribe to us. Does a name really describe a person half as well as the memory of his smile does? Does a name illustrate the feeling of his arm casually draped across my shoulders, pulling me in to read a dirty joke in a magazine we shouldn't've had? Does a name convey the feeling of a laugh, transferred through bodily contact, from one to another

2003-03-09T00:14:00.000-06:00

SANDRA! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!

If Sandra doesn't fix this Cyanide/Skids no-go issue, I think I shall...well...I don't know yet, but I might consult Tabitha about ideas!*

*This random outburst brought to you by Drama Queens Ltd. Bringing you overdramatic reactions to fictional events since the golden age of Hollywood.

2003-03-07T17:50:00.000-06:00

Life on the Bright Side

I can honestly say I have never experienced, nor even witnessed, a swirley.

Just thought you'd like to know.

2003-03-07T17:18:00.000-06:00

Ladies and Gentlemen (and not-so-much ladies and horndogs), Presenting.....

Buttercup Applelips!

Look, more memes!

You can call me Buttercup. *snickersnort*

(I would end up being Buttercup... Hey, Sexyman, wanna be Wesley?)

2003-03-07T12:46:00.000-06:00

Addiction and OCD

Okay, I'm slightly OCD, I admit it. But to have someone introduce me to Boy Meets Boy, the greatest animated soap opera since...well...anything....is just a terrible thing to do. I am about halfway through the archives. Hmmmm.... Dexter shall suffer a trip to the third circle of Hell, for this.

Wonder where I can get Tabby's number....

Internal soundtrack

Stuck in my head now: "I Can't Get You Out of My Head" by Kylie something-or-other, natch.

In the CD player, now

Cher, "Body to Body." I want to salsa dance, again..... Someone dip me, for the love of God!

Weekly offers

To Miss Elvira Kurt: I will gladly submit myself to a full physical exam to become your love slave

To Mr. Orlando Bloom: You...me...behind Orthanc. Wear the wig.

For Kat

I'm gonna work on a charicature this weekend for that phrase-turning caption. Yes, yes, my dear, you shall be animatified!

(I love being a republican, these days! We invent such astoundisizing words!)

2003-03-06T11:57:00.000-06:00

DDR

Yeah, for those of you that don't know, Dance Dance Revolution. Personally, not my choice of games, but.... My point is, I have this urge to dance almost all the time. Music is a powerful influence in my life. Both vocal and aural. I also have a list of about a half dozen instruments I want to learn to play. Back to dancing, though. Right now, for example, I want to salsa dance.

There are times when I actually have to force myself not to dance around as I walk like what's-her-name in Dirty Dancing.

(yes, I know, pink flag)

Le chapeau de la joie!

I wore the lucky cabana hat, yesterday. With all this studying and seriousness (nevermind mutterings of war), lately, I felt the need to do something silly and random. Now, you may think a cabana hat is quite random enough. If you do, you must never have met me face-to-face. Not only the hat was worn, but my Betty Boop (boop-oop-a-doop!) shirt, a pair of blinking witch antennae (Kathy, you know those! (on top of the hat)), a rainbow feather boa (contributed by Jess and Lorelei), and a plastic lei (also J&L) were piled and artistically draped from this hat. Oh well, it was something to do. Kept the mood light, all day, I tell you that. Besides, how can you not smile when someone wearing a cabana hat covered in feathers and blinking lights smiles at you, takes a spatula out of his back pocket, and says "I have a spatula, as well?" I think that got the most laughs...the spatula bit.

Having noticed a slight error in the above, I wore my Betty Boop shirt in the normal manner. The headress was composed of the hat, boa, lei, and blinking antennae.

I'm thinking I'm just gonna start a wacky Wednesday ritual. Some form of wackiness will henceforth occur on Wednesday. I am thinking something involving plastic forks and a french twist, next week.

This is what happens when you have a creative person who has no real outlet for his creativity...wacky hats and french twists decorated with fan-shaped arrangements of black plastic forks. At least college is a good place to be wacky. These are the days when our fashion sense becomes really creative, but better thought out than when we were five.

A Wilde Time was had by All

By the end of the day, I was wearing Jessie's red plaid scarf, but not as a scarf, but as a REALLY huge tie. Lorelei told me that, after I took off the hat, and my hair was kinda poofdified, the big tie and the hair combined to make me look like a portrait of Oscar Wilde. I tell you, these kind of things are enough to make you giggle incessantly.

Giggles, Guffaws, and Mimes

I asked the group, last night, "If a tree falls in a forest, and it hits a mime, does anyone care?" Jessie contributed that the mime's wife and children might care. Deeply.

That put an image of mime sex into my mind.

...let that sink in, for a minute...

If you let that sink in, you now understand why I damn-near passed out from laughter at the image.

Why doesn't Kitana Blade actually have One?

So, went to the bowling alley with Stonewall, last night. Mostly, Dexter, Jess, Lorelei, and myself played Mortal Combat 3. I realized that I just don't understand why I ever stopped playing that game. It is both fun and addictive. And I still kick some serious pixellated patoot with Kitana. Even without remembering all the combinations and special moves I used to use when I was heavily into it, I kept winning. Woot on the fans of death.

Now L, J, and I are all going to turn into pathetic MK3 addicts. To think, I laughed at those people in high school....

2003-03-04T16:15:00.000-06:00

Internal Soundtrack

Right now...

Little shop, little shop of horrors
Bop-she-bop little shop of horrors
Oh, ohoh, oh-whoa!

Somebody shoot me, please.

2003-03-04T15:32:00.000-06:00

Pride and Prejudice...ya want fries with that?

No, the title has absolutely nothing to do with this post. It just came to me in a fit of inspiration. Actually, I suppose the influence for the quip is the fact that even professors seem to be using the cliffs notes, as opposed to actually pulling test questions/essay prompts from the book.

From the Feel the Burn desk:

Four mile power walk, fifteen minutes on a stair climber. Good thing I remembered my towel, today. I needed it.

I feel good, though. I love this feeling of accomplishment, yea, of virility after a workout. Yeesh, almost a prehistoric feeling of...I dunno...*grunt* Look out world, I'm getting in touch with my cro-magnon roots, lock up your daughters and hide your sons.

Our No Pain, No Gain correspondant says...

Okay, girls' volleyball team was practicing below the track, today. I very nearly ran slap into a column when they were stretching... Hmmmm....

Can syrup be used as a lubricant?

I thought about it, Mr. Apples, and yes, I suppose so, but it would gum up the works.

GQ on the DL

A certain somebody was wearing a suit and white shirt today. Damn, but he cleans up nice. Then again, he prolly dirties up nice, too. *lewd grin* And the short hair is growing on me. It actually works on him.

2003-03-03T19:57:00.000-06:00

Reality? What reality?

My idea for a reality show: Take all the creators of reality TV programming, throw them in an arena with fifty or sixty lions, and film it. That's all. One episode, one night, total carnage. C'mon, you all know that's what this is building to. Roman colliseum, I tells ya, ROMAN COLLISEUM!

2003-03-03T19:42:00.000-06:00

Sugar and Spice? Not so Nice.

When did it happen? When, as a society, did we just start taking for granted that children become the minions of the Dark Side on Earth sometime around age 12? I suppose we started letting it happen with the boys.

"He's smackin' his little brother around!"

"Boys will be boys."

"He's torturing small animals!"

"Boys will be boys!"

You know, I think we just didn't notice the build-up. Desensitization is an amazing thing.

Then again, at least boys are straightforward enough to just be violent, girls master head games really early.

I was walking, off campus, today, and I passed two girls, about 12 or 13 years old. As I passed them, I smiled at the little bitches. One of them snapped back: "Don't smile at me!" And you all know how she did it. Of course, she spat it out in that little "I-am-the-princess-of-all-I-see" way. Girls master the head games and status game early.

Girls are certainly not directly violent, for the most part, but simply REALLY good at psychological torture. Ostracism, mind games, psychological terrorism...these are the arrows in the quiver of the teenage girl. Soap opera writers need to talk to their teenage daughters.

In the sixth grade, I was moved out of private school (secualr, mind, advanced academics) and into public school. Now, about the 6th grade is when the social stratification that reaches its peak in high school starts. The nerds and the jocks and everything in between start to clump together and form social structures. The well endowed of looks and those blessed with athletic ability naturally become the upper echelon, the right side of the bell curve. Those of excessive intelligence and least involvement in the childishness of this social stratification become the nerds (not to say that the upper echelon is not intelligent, quite the opposite! The really, really popular kids are at least as intelligent as your average nerd). These are the two rigid groups, those that need not worry about advancement nor decrease in status. In fact, in my experience, these are also the two nicest groups in the Lord of the Flies world that is econdary school in America. For these are the only two groups that innately know who they are and always will be. The jocks and future cheerleaders can be nice to everyone, because they are not just going to suddenly become uncool. In fact, the two nicest guys I new in high school were prettyboy jocks. They knew they were cool, and no amount of socializing with the lower classes would change that. As was the head cheerleader, a wonderful girl and nothing but gracious and kind. She could afford it.

The "freaks 'n' geeks" are the same. An openminded, if somewhat less pretty (and sometimes less hygenic) group of people are the F&G's. These are the people that have no social standing, to speak of, in the caste system of secondary school. Of course, they know this. They don't know why, but they know. Personally, I agree with this article (via Kat's blog), which makes a pretty durned good point about the structure of the secondary school politics. The premise that nerds aren't popular because they are sortof halfway into the real world seems to work. The "pear model" seems a bit obtuse, to me, when a bell curve easily illustrates the phenomenon, but... At any rate, the point is, the nerds and F&G's know they aren't goign to advance in social standing any time soon, and the jocks and such know they aren't going to lose any status, so...

It's that majority of middle-status kids that snip and snipe, and battle to be closer to the popular kids.

As a person thrust into this social order as it was just forming, I began the process with no friends, and thus no status. It really is all about who you know. But really, it left me in a sort of limbo. I was closest to the nerds, but I was sort of an outsider in this whole system, especially as I was actually one of the popular kids in elementary school. So, I suppose I've seen it from both sides of a strange bell curve.

And the conclusion I have come to is that kids become cruel and savage, more and more, because parenting and parental involvement is on a downhill slide. I'm not saying we necessarily need stay-at-home parents. I didn't have that, and I turned out okay (if I do say so, myself). I think the point is that more and more parents look at kids as little badges of honor. Kids have become status sybols.

"Look, I can have kids, AND be a corporate raider."

The only problem is, the kids just become a cute little accessory to decorate the Christmas card. Too many parents say "look what I can make," but really just want the kids to go away so that they can go about their lives. The fact that we just accept that children become evil for a few years just accentuates the fact that we could care less, as an adult society. If we really cared, we'd make a point of changing the system.

And thus we *DO* end up with a huge, useless, population of juveniles that form a naturally savage society that we are either ignorant of or block out after we are no longer a part of it. I am not, of course suggesting a solution. The solution lies in the hands of parents. I think this society of convenience places too much in the hands of the school system. Unless we are willing to assist the system to change, and that means starting at home, it will continue to worsen. Nevermind the desensitization to violence the entire society is experiencing.

It's a mess.

And I sound like Diane Fossy, here. I suppose that's what I get for being a nerd-but-not-quite.

2003-03-03T12:21:00.000-06:00

Mostly Harmless....I suppose

You know, the one day I don't have my towel with me, it rains. And then some. Douglas Adams would be ashamed. Then again, I actually *TOLD* myself to put a towel in my bag last night. I'm paying for not doing it.

Yes, I really do carry a towel in my bag. Yes, I am a dweeb. I mean, c'mon, I have a 'blog, fer chrissakes.

Normality Bites

Cripes, I'm normal. More normal than I have any right to be, given my gene pool. That bites. I wanted to at least be abnormal, if not fully bizarre.

Le cinema de la fond de la John Travolta

I watched Saturday Night Fever, yesterday. My, but Johnny-boy had a marvelous tuchas, back then. And lookit Fran Drescher! Whoo! Grab that ass, baby! She looked amazing in all her twentyishness, too.

Chinoise pour deux

Okay, I tell myself that I've been very good, so I am going to go pig out at the Chinese restaurant across campus. First, I can't manage to eek through two plates of food. Hmmm. So much for pigging out. Damn dieting has left my stomach shrunk from its previous state.

Following that, the heavens opened just in time for me to leave the establishment.

Full circle, n'est-ce pas?

And so, I was left wishing for my towel. Mostly harmless, indeed.

2003-03-02T13:07:00.000-06:00

Bits and snatches

Okay, call off the search party. After two months of searching, I have found my keys.

All I have to do, now, is figure out what to do with the duplicate set I ordered.

The Parent Trap

Having a pregnosaurus for a best friend is interesting, to say the least. Hormonal and emotional rollercoaster. (hi, skanky crack whore!)

(and no, I don't call her that as a term of insult, but of endearment. We've called each other horrid things since before high school)

2003-03-01T22:09:00.000-06:00

Dancing Queen

Okay, VH1 has a disco thing on. Can we say dance? Good thing I live out in the middle of nowhere, so I can turn the TV up and shake my groove thing in the living room.

Hey, ya get a workout when and where ya can, right?

2003-03-01T02:29:00.000-06:00

Apollogies...

Yeah, ummmm.... I wrote this at 3AM, last night. Expect more late-night philosophical diatribes, in the future.

Onward, Homo Soldiers...

Maybe it is the winter blahs. Maybe it is the fact that I am watching the History Channel at ungodly hours. Whatever it is, I am, yet again, nostalgic for the days before I was even born.

Okay, so I learned something new.

I never really knew the derivation of the popular gay term "Stonewall." When it was mentioned on the History Channel, a minute ago, I looked it up. What do you know.

I think that, to truly advance as a culture (and I am not necessarily limiting this to the GLBT community), we must pay homage to our past. If ever we forget the struggles that have gone before, we face our own downfall. I suppose it is very easy to look back, from the enlightened 21st century (*snork*), and say "oh, how horrible," or "what an atrocity." I suppose it is easy. Remember the Alamo, Remember Manchuria, Remeber Stonewall.

And remember 9/11. Oh, you mean we haven't abolished all hate and created a utopia, yet?

Nope. We haven't even built those cars the Jetsons had.

And yet, here we sit, enlightened, enshrined in the absolute certainty of our superiority to the barbarism and hatred of the past. However, we can still buy our Nazi flags, we can still wear our sheets to our "secret meetings," and we can still get our fill of preaching. And for what? The ability to claim superiority. Is that not what it is all about?

The communities that form around hatred are not stupid. This is a special distinction to make. Ignorance does not necessarily equal stupidity. The thing is, these organizations pull in an ignorant and gullible following by adopting philosophies that support, validate, and accentuate the fears of those who feel the need to reassure themselves that they are normal, or superior. They choose potent and powerful symbols, under which they unite their followers. The swastika that we all know so well, an old symbol of prosperity and good harvest, was bent to the will of hate in a time of extreme economic distress. The rebel flag of the Confederacy, a powerful emblem of the rights of the state, as an autonomous entity, to regulate its own affairs was twisted to fly above the masses calling for the enslavement and debasement of people not of the "Great Aryan Race."

By the very brilliance of these decisions, to adopt well-known symbols and to provide a scapegoat for those that would point the finger of accusation, these people prove their intelligence, and unsettling familiarity with the workings of the human mind. I mean, face it, Adoph Hitler was a genius of amazing stature. He was also quite warped. If nothing else, he had the intelligence to play on the fears of a people awash in a harsh and unstable system, and to redirect their fears to his own hateful means. To top it off, he was charismatic enough to make these ideas appealing. Let us remember, Hitler did not take power. Hitler was elected. Hitler was given power.

We tend to think, in our enlightened way, of hate groups and extremists as not particularly intelligent. The racist redneck with two teeth springs to mind as an archetypal image held by the rational masses, somewhere in the middle. And maybe we are right, in a way. Every shepherd needs his sheep, every warmonger his footsoldier, and every charismatic leader his pawn. However, we still need to separate stupidity from ignorance. I think that to consider those that follow these ideologies stupid is to brush off a very scary issue. It lessens the impact of their words, it reduces the very power of their hate...and that is not a good thing. To blow off these terrorist groups (for that is, surely, what they are), is akin to thinking the tiger with no teeth is no threat. We cannot, however, forget the claws. The tiger still has the claws, and he still knows it.

Now, I'm not all hearts, and flowers, and we are the world, here. People disagree. People hate. These are just simple facts of human nature. Our only means of defending ourselves from those that would destroy us and all we stand for is to fight back. It is not enough to click our tongues and shake our heads, and go about our business. They are more than willing to bring the war to us, so we must be prepared to bring it right back to them. I'm not saying this is a call to arms. I'm not saying "go out and kill some Klansmen." After all, our Constitution defends the right of every person to freedom from persecution based on their views and how they express them. What I'm saying is, never forget. Ever. The day you forget that there is still hate out there, and the day you forget that people have died for these causes, and the day you let the opposition become a joke, a toothless tiger, is the day we lose. It does not have to be an overt war of aggression, but only a constant awareness of the likelyhood of unexpected attack. It isn't even paranoia, but merely recognizing that these things exist, as opposed to ignoring them. Countering ignorance by way of hate with ignonce in favor of less fearful subjects is not the answer. It is rearranging the deck chairs when the rats have already left the ship.

Never let yourself be lulled into believing the movement is over, because the man standing next to you in the elevator may be the one to pistol whip you and leave you tied to a fence, or the person buying groceries, behind you, may be the one to tie a man to the back of a truck and drag him to his death. Be rational, realize the foolishness of these extreme views, and how silly it is to expend such energy to hate. Do not, however, ever think that, just because you think it is stupid, everyone does. Because when you assume that everyone knows that it is insane to want to harm those that have done no harm to you, that is when you give them all the power. That is when they will come out of the blue and we will all be so shocked. When you turn your back on the tiger, then it will pounce.

This diatribe brought to you by the Society for Late-night Anaylytical Observances, in partnership with the Writing in Circles Guild for Verbocity.

It really kinda meandered off of my original subject, but that's stream-of-conciousness fer ya!

You people should hear me when I'm drunk. Oy.

2003-02-28T21:47:00.000-06:00

So I'm posting again, sue me

Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of No Booty, I shall fear no lonliness, for I want much that I see. Ah, college, the one time in your life when you are surrounded by youth, beauty, and random offers of debauchery, and it isn't a felony.

I discovered the gym on campus, today. Woot. Ran into a girl from my floral design class, taught by Dr. Robinson (Ain't she pretty, folks? Woot it up for the pretty lady!) downstairs, as she was emerging from her torture sess...errr...aerobics class. She asked if I was going to a class or working out. "Meh," said I, "I'm gonna go up to the track and run around in a circle like a gerbil in a cage."

So, I did. Two mile powerwalk, followed by a four mile ride on the Bike to Nowhere (tm). Roughly two miles of that was before I figured out how to turn the damn thing on. Did I mention that I *AM* a blond?

Yes, indeedeedoo! I shall be the hottie I know I am, inside, before the end of another year. Hell, I'm paying the fees for the damn thing, I might as well use it four or so days a week.

Yes, I am becoming a stereotype. Oh look, another queer gymrat. Let us stare in wonder. Oh well.

It was gratifying to watch two girls kick a couple of frat boys up and down the basketball court below the track, though. Girl power is a wonderful thing.

(aside) Hmmmm. I powerwalk to enya.... Pink flag.

From the Feel the Burn desk:

My glutes are threatening secession for that bike ride.

Little do they know that's just what I want.

From the Important Issues desk:

I can't believe I forgot this! Lawrence and Garner v. State of Texas goes to the Supreme Court (anybody else wanna see the justices come out in red, sequined gowns and huge beehives and start singing shoop shoop songs?) on March 26th. Boys and girls, fags and hags, pay close attention to this one. This could be the decisive turn in the tide to get the gubmint outta our bedrooms, ALL of them, for verily, ten of the 14 states that have sodomy laws (WARNING: garish web design, if you don't want SODOMY LAWS emblazoned upon your browser window, don't click on the link, lest someone of authority should walk by) have laws that affect not only same-sex sodomy, but also hetero sodomy.

As a moderate conservative (yeah, yeah, yuck it up, log cabins and pink elephants), I firmly believe that the government has no business whatsoever in anyone's bedroom, unless ACTUAL, LOGICAL laws are being broken (incest, molestation, rape, etc). As long as we are dealing with consenting adults, the gubmint can keep it's collective schnozz outta my frickin' bedroom.

It also makes the wee-boy-in-a-dress in me jump for glee to watch the far right wing squirm when they realize they agree that the government has no business in our homes.

Meanwhile....

The Log Cabin Republicans, aside from being a big honkin' pile o' drama (BIG surprise, nu?), is rather hypocritical in their slogan of "inclusion wins." The Houston chapter of LCR want $70 for membership. A year. So, you end up with a room full of old, rich, conservative queers, and you exclude a potentially hugely motivated and influential constituency, the penniless student. Really accurate sampling of the Community, there.

Then again, the organization is partisan and overly dramatic, on the whole, so they really don't appeal to me too much. Buncha bitter old queens, if ya ask me.

Okay, end of political rant.

Meanwhile, still....

For the orchid folks that may happen across this, yes, eventually I will post reports and pictures, here. Right now, however, not a whole helluva lot is going on TO post. It is winter, it is cold, and the only thing really going on is spikeage. My goal at this point is just to keep everything alive through this cold and gloom that is *SO* not a typical Texas February. At least not LAST WEEK of February.

2003-02-28T20:00:00.000-06:00

So you call *this* a blog?

Yes indeedee! I do, at that.

I'm sure those of you that have heard some of my soapboxing are hoping for a long diatribe on some terribly interesting topic of random esoterica, but I'm too juiced on caffeine and chicken.

(For verily, I am the bitch of both Juan Valdez and the Colonel (and Popeye sometimes takes me out and rapes me in the dinghy(Spinach IS good for you!)).)

Then again, maybe you just want to "hear" me get all bitchy, snarky, and generally drama queen-esque about something. Sorry, I've done my snarking, today.

(sorry, Sexyman, but you were the random name I chose from the contact list)

I suppose this first post is just to say I'm here, I'm at least partially queer (shaddap, those of you that have seen my closet (or the Monopoly ensemble)), and I'd prefer a glass of wine to beer, thanks.

I suppose I could say a few things, though, since you're here.

From the Things You Don't Need to Hear desk:

"You know, anal penetration is really painful." --My MOTHER (ohmyfuck)

Thanks, mom, for this statement that will keep both my nightmares and my therapist actively working for the next thirty years.

From the You Have GOT to be Kidding Me desk:

Mom claims to have had no idea. Hmmm... I think I shall compose a list of things that should've raised a red...err...pink flag, over the years. More on that, later.

Okay, a little more, now.

If you come home to find your son done up in geisha makeup...BIG, HUGE, ***FLAMING*** pink flag.

So, there it is. I'm me. Love me, you know you want to.

Oh yeah, and I am here instating the Weekly Offer of My Body to Elvira Kurt (tm).

Elvira, I want to have your babies.