Mexican thankfulness in photos

Click any image to see it larger on flickr. :)

Ventilation and Awe




Doors



Patterns and Lines



Reflected Selves



Ancient structures

no no, thank YOU!

I'll be out of town, out of the country, for a week to celebrate the idea of thankfulness.

Here are the things I'm most thankful for right now:
love
growth
my friends who allow me to be me and who are just beautiful being who they are
my family who are always full of love
travel
understanding
forgiveness
skincare
my new career
my new job within the realm of the above two
my goals
my five year plan
travelling with my honey
borrowing books from the library for travel reading
80 degree days and 40 degree nights (farenheit)
no plan plans
$1 = ~10 pesos
$45 1 1/2 hour massages

In the somewhat remote mountain town in Mexico, I'm sure there is some internet but I see no reason to access it when I've only got six days to soak up my first experience in a country that doesn't speak English as a first language.
Fortunately, my man does and I'm really good at talking with my hands.

I'm sure I'll post photos eventually upon my return.

If you comment on this or my page and don't see it, that's because I have to approve all of that communication and that won't happen until the 27th.
(tho, I bet I'll log on before I head out tomorrow afternoon... maybe... if I ever log off and go pack...)

plus; +; positive; more than neutral; opposite of negative

My blogs have been so negative and full of turmoil and strife lately so I've decided to share some "victories" with y'all, if only to let it be known that there is a very lighthearted being behind/above/within/around/next to that heavy one.

I had a GREAT day today:

:It started with discovering that my bike wasn't outside in the rain but left in an indoor sanctuary - yay for a rust free chain.

:Then I got to share a cab with three people and only had to contribute the cash in my wallet (about $2 with another $2 owed a schoolmate who threw in $5 for both of us).

:Even tho I was late, so were a bunch of other students who aren't usually and when the school pres asked us why so many of us "usually on timers" were late and we said "BART emergency" she said "Oh, that's a good excuse then." I still got a tardy but that's okay, the next, or I should say LAST, six week cycle starts on Tuesday (which means tardy's get reset).

:My last six week cycle will really only last for four more weeks, one of which is a week in Mexico for Thanksgiving! Yeah.

:I had a job interview yesterday at an excellent spa and I'm psyched to have gotten invited back for a second interview on Monday - it'll be awesome to get this job for many reasons but I'll save that for my next "good news" entry after I actually accept an offer.

:I got certified in TRUE makeup this morning (more good news connected to that if the above entry goes the way I hope and feel it will...). I love this makeup. It's all mineral based and super kind to the skin. Read about it if you're curious. Being certified only means that if I work in a salon or spa that sells it, I'm allowed to apply it to clients. And now I can do full makeup applications at school on my clients for free!

:I had a wonderful client this afternoon who rebooked for some waxing and bought the product that I recommended. I'm totally loving telling people about products and seeing their skin improve because of them. Did you know that 90% of the benefits you see in your skin after a facial come from the home care routine? It's true. Think about that the next time you consider buying a face cleanser at the drug store.

:Tomorrow is Saturday, which is really my Friday, because it's the last day of the week for me. Hopefully my crew and I will be going out dancing - sometimes we never actually make it out but we always have a great time.

Post script:
:Apparently, my horoscope for today is ALSO about positivity. Yay! I love it when things synch up. :)


November 3, 2006
Positive Outlook
Gemini Daily Horoscope

You could feel like pursuing your goals with resolve and purpose, which could make you optimistic about the outcome. Perhaps your zeal might be because you can picture a positive end result or because you refuse to allow negative thoughts to influence you. Keeping your focus on the future hopeful and positive today may make it easier for you to realize your goals. It might be useful to make a list of all of the characteristics you possess that will aid you in reaching your goals. By thinking of your positive qualities, you can concentrate on the potential you have to manifest your dreams, which can help boost your confidence in yourself. If you feel that you will be able to achieve your goals, then this power of positive thinking adds not only to your self-assurance but also puts a hopeful intention out into the universe.

Remaining positive about what the future holds allows us to put our energy into the most important thing that will help us reach our dreams..ourselves. Even though our dreams do not always happen exactly as we hope, we are most often the key to our own success. Having confidence in ourselves gives us the means to place our focus on what we need to do in a way that is meaningful and constructive. When we set our sights high and with optimism, the universe will respond in kind. By believing in yourself today, the universe will listen to your positive intentions and give you the means to reach your dreams.

overwhelmed by isness (a process documentation)

incarnation is hard
working out this whole "human" thing
is labyrinthine

i've been told that i'm no good at killing the minotaur
(or the medusa
or however the myth goes)

but I'm still in the middle of the battle
and the battle is evermore.
or, at least, until I get over the drama of the body...

[insert angels laughing riotously
knowingly
lovingly
dripping their effervescent tears onto my head
to remind me of home
and why I'm here]

[meanwhile, back on the battlefield:]
the mirror is being aimed
the light is reflecting and finding it's target
the medusa is shattering
the minotaur has a broken leg
at least
maybe even lost an eye
his tail is definitely shorter than it was


i feel overwhelmed by being in a body
overwhelmed by having a heart
overwhelmed by calls to integrity and goodness

they make sure that
every step is weighed
every thought analyzed
every interaction graded
processing is constant
learning is ever-present

silence does not exist here anymore
__________
i'm so tired

"i jus wan take nap rih her"

(quoting my youth
when
lighting a cigarette off of the one i wasn't even finished smoking
was what i did when drunk at a party)
_________________________________
am i drunk on the heaviness of existence?
am i regretting taking the drink of incarnation?
am i losing my ground-ded-ness?
________________________________________________
"life's ups and downs are easy when you have a fast car"
is written on a card
magnetized to the fridge
at my borrowed sanctuary
where I go to feel loved and open
and give thanks for the opportunity
to throw my arms wide and let go

yeah, let's go
let's use that fast car and go for a drive
blast the tunes
throw open the sunroof
drink wine
hit the beach
relax
RELAX
breathe clean air
run
play
laugh
LAUGH
giggle
play
laugh
run
drive
weee!

{this has been an active process by adrienecrimson - we hope you enjoyed the ride - to some art is about process rather than outcome, hence the first draft quality of this collection of words}

little blog tussle

Below is a really funny blog war that I've been involved in. It's funny because we both posted "Daily OM" emails that talk all about positivity and spirituality and we both posted them for the other.



I recently received a series of emails from someone who doesn't agree with the way I live my life. I got over it, relatively, and then stupidly decided to re-read them today and subsequently cried, got depressed and needed a pep-talk from a good friend. Post pep-talk, i checked my www.dailyom.com email and found this to be apropos for both myself and the writer of the above mentioned emails.

I am blogging it because I think that this information is good for all of us as we try to make our way thru this dense experience called incarnation.



October 16, 2006
Seeing Beyond The Unknown
Fear Of Losing What We Have

One of humanity's biggest fears is losing what we have. It is healthy when fear of loss helps us take steps to protect what we have worked hard to attain, but it is unhealthy to continue to fear something we can do nothing about. We need to remember that focusing our energy on fear can actually create what scares us, and holding tightly to what we have keeps us from participating in the universal flow of abundance and instead creates stagnation. Since we can only really control our thoughts and our responses, gaining proper perspective may be key to conquering such fears.

The letters of the word "fear" can be used to stand for "False Evidence Appearing Real." Fears of being separated from something or someone we feel we need for our security or happiness comes from a delusion - a distorted way of understanding ourselves and the world around us. When we understand that possessions are only representations of the energy at work in our lives, we can shift our attention to the right and proper place. We can stop fearing loss of money or success because when we understand how it is created, we can always create more. We can stop fearing loss of possessions when we realize that they are not the source of our joy or well-being but only icing on our cakes. And when we understand the energy of love, we need not hold anyone too close for fear of losing them for we know that love does not diminish when it is given or shared but expands beyond boundaries of time or space.

By focusing our light on our fears, they are revealed as mere shadows that disappear in the presence of mind and spirit. We can choose instead to direct our thoughts and creative power toward things of true value - love, abundance, peace, passion, and joy. These are energies that are always available to us when we place ourselves confidently in the universal flow of abundance.



then, a few days after I posted this, there was a response posted:



(a daily om from the archives)

Integrity

A boat with no leaks is said to have integrity, as is a solid piece of furniture. It is their wholeness-no gaps or weaknesses-that gives them their integrity. People who have integrity convey a similar "seaworthiness" and stability. There is the sense that they can be counted on, that their actions will be consistent with their ideals. Just being in the presence of someone with this quality creates a feeling of steadiness even in a chaotic environment. These people are natural leaders because we sense that it is safe to follow them. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Gandhi are clear examples of modern human beings who embodied integrity.

All spiritual traditions have vows, precepts, and tenets that are designed to encourage us to live in harmony with a higher vision of what humanity can be. Following a set of precepts, or taking a vow, can teach us what it feels like to be true to a set of elevated ideals in which we think beyond I, me, and mine. Being true to a vow in the face of temptation builds strength and power. We learn first hand the benefits of sacrificing short-term gains in favor of long-term vision. We learn the value of doing what is right, and not just what is easy. In a culture obsessed with convenience and freedom, integrity can be a rare quality. Perhaps this is because we have a cultural habit of resisting limitation and restriction. And yet, limitation and restriction often provide the structure in which integrity can be born.

Living with integrity generates self-confidence and self-esteem. It is important to take time on a regular basis to examine whether your actions, your words and your vision are in alignment. Make it a priority to look into any imbalances you find and commit to resolving them. Take time to consider and, when necessary, revise your overall vision for life, making sure your actions and words support your ideals.



I surrender.

I will not read that blog anymore (no matter how hard it is to not click on that link).

I will take that integrity post to heart and live within what I consider to be my own integrity, which includes not rising to any bait and simply being the person I want to be.

In case you find it odd that I would post on a different, unmonitored blog, this post is simply an appreciation of the fact that we were warring with deep philosophy and I find that kinda sweet.

Well, bittersweet if anything.

tear it out and throw it onstage for all to see

step right up folks, here it is, the only heart in the world that's inside out.
yes yes, look right there, it's hollow under all of that fire and the blood flows on the outside.

legend states that every so often, a strong fire builds inside that hollow and clears out all of the blues that get too heavy and sticky.
the fire leaves it looking like some of those redwood trees up there in northern california.
still growing but the center of the bottom is hollow and charred.
the tops are green and red, just as they should be.
and their root system is so wide that they don't even need the center to have any mass for them to remain standing.

that is just like this heart folks.

it is currently in burn mode.
you can see the smoke exit thru the aorta.
it's wings are gone and the blood has retreated until the burn subsides some.

there is always some fear that the charred tissue will become all that there is of this little heart so until that time, step right up and watch it burn.
perhaps the blood will flow again and sprout new wings.
perhaps not.

self excoriation reaches well beyond the dermis, perhaps even as far as...

...to the smooth, cardiac muscle.

the basement
tho furnished
seemed without egress

that girl down there
with all sweetness and light
feels no room
for bitter and dark

meringue

irish stout

can they not be favored by a similar palate?
do they not serve similar, yet completely different epicurian purposes?

would the basement
be of increased interest
with a window?

would the girl
end the digging
digging
DIGGING
D
I
G
G
I
N
G
DIGGING
into herself

thru all of the protective layers
deep into vulnerability
beyond safety
where the blood flows
sharp
crimson
thick
salty
appendages torn
barely useful
from all of the
D
I
G
G
I
N
G

'must, fix, must, fix, must, fix.must.fix.must.fix.mustfixmustfixfixfixfixfixfixfixfix'

'this basement is dark'

she destroys the wall and walks outside

she tries floating the meringue in the irish stout
not exactly what she was trying to do
but it's too late now

and even with the sky blown open
and the grass underfoot
it's still fucking dark
and now there's candy in her beer
and a cut all the way to her heart

and she put it there herself

thinking it would fix things

happy happy happy...

...that's me!

I love my school and my studies.
I just finished week one and I'm content and purring like a cat lying in a patch of sun, on a fuzzy blanket, after eating a whole lot of wet food and sitting in a lap being stroked for an hour (if you don't know cats, you won't get the "wet food" bit and that's okay, it's a "trade secret" in the cat loving world - join us and you'll learn!).
I'm tired and fighting a sore throat and about to take a bath but I'm happier than I've been in a long time.

Anyone in SF who wants a facial (or body skin treatment, some body waxing, a haircut or color) - just let me know - it's a great place and I'll be "on the floor" taking clients (for the first three things anyway) in just five weeks! But you can come any time because everyone there is great at what they do, and if, by chance, they're not, their "learning leader" (aka teacher) will help make it great.

I just thought I'd share that with you guys because I'm really excited to have shrugged off the corporate life and be re-entering the world of client care. :)
Anyone considering leaving behind a job that leaves them with no inspiration or personal satisfaction for something filled with creativity and joy all I can say is DO IT!
There's a book out there called Do What You Love and the Money Will Follow - I haven't read it but the title is enough for me, and with faith in yourself, it should be enough for you too.

it's official

I am now an Esthetician (aka Esthie) student at The San Francisco Institute of Esthetics and Cosmetology. At least, I signed the paperwork today.
Class starts on August 15th.
My last day of work will be August 11th, unless we replace me at work sooner than that... fingers crossed...
I'll be learning to administer facials and back treatments, hair removal with hot wax and makeup application techniques and I couldn't be more excited!

and nervous

and dharmic

and anxious...

There will be 8 students, at this point, and I'm glad for the small class size.
I won't have to work at all for the first few months (it's a total of 600 hours in 35 hour weeks and I should graduate around December 16th). If I budget well, I won't have to work at all!

Basically, what I'm trying to say is



WOOT!

surreal cereal 001

a certain solitude of the soul filled existance jungle music heals starting from outside vibratory planes and slowly filling up the holes

shoes help support the bottom of your soul's feet's shadow

music makes me feel better

1a. grumplesaurus all day (gawd I can't wait to be done with this job - only 20 more working days...) decided to take a very small check to the bank just to get out of this office.
couldn't resist the mega media store "sale" on "80s" stuff

I walked out with a flatter wallet and three new CDs

Madonna (of course) - Like a Virgin (now I finally own the CD...my mom has my vinyl somewhere, I think/hope)
Heart - Heart (same as above re: vinyl)
Tears for Fears - Songs from the Big Chair

Yay, now I can sing along to three more cds.

[heavy bit]
1b. I used to sing the TFF song "Shout" (I think you might know it) when I was like, uh, 8 or something, when that song was popular originally, to my dad and I'd yell the part "I'd really love to break your heart."
Sigh.
Perhaps I knew he'd break mine later...
[/heavy bit]

2. was a grumplesaurus on Monday (I had to go to work - no, not to work, but to keep from having to use a vacation day to not work) and when the "going to a movie double feature where the second movie is free" plan didn't pan out, I continued decoupaging tea tags to my tea tin while singing along as loud as I could to Fiona Apple's Tidal and I slowly became perky - especially when I realized that I was finished my tea tin (the decoupaging part - now I have to find toy truck wheels to attach to the bottom).

3. when I was in college, it was non-traditional. I got graded on how long I could sit up and then hop with my legs in (half) lotus during an 1.5 hour meditation session, twice a day, in a large, gold, domed building with a cement floor covered in foam mattresses coverd in white sheets. I also got graded on how well/often I put a particular man's philosophy into my school work (the more, the higher the grade, the more likely you were to get an award upon graduation - unlike me). When I got overwhelmed by all of it, I would either listen to Soundgarden Superunknown or Peter Gabriel's Passion depending on the vibe of the overwhelm.
One of the wonderful benefits of my strange university experience was the regular doses of live Ghandarva Ved music concerts that would happen in one of those foamy, sheety domy buildings [read: lying down to float away to never never land because of the dreamyness of the music.] I think they happened once a month and were free.

4. SIGH.

longing for Long - pt.2

I was born in Portland, the town this island used to be a part of (until they seceded on July 1, 1995 - which makes the week of the 4th of July every year since, a bit hazy for most residents). My parents broke up after three years of my life and my mom took me to Philly with her. I would return to this island in summers and for Thanksgiving and/or Christmas and Spring school breaks.




1. my dad's house (see previous post for more details) which he says he only built for me.

2. where my best friends, Heather and Sadhana, lived. I've been friends with them since day one of this incarnation. They're 11 months older than me and their parents were best friends with mine so my idea is my mom met them and said to my dad "lets have a baby too" and two months of trying later, viola, here comes me!

3. our friend Melissa's house. She came along later. I was jealous of her for a while because I didn't go to the island for a few summers (parental politics) and that's when H & S became friends with her. I got over it eventually and we all had wonderful times walking around the island, in the middle of the street, of course, all night, drunk, and peeing outside, in the middle of the street, of course.

4. the cove where my dad anchored his boat and where he kept the canoe he used to get out to his boat. It wasn't a great place to hang out unless we were getting into the boat but at high tide it was a wonderful place to look for rocks and shells.

5. This is NEW HILL - the best downhill biking EVER, EVER, EVER!!! The hill terminated, as you can see, just in front of a cove, so there was an abrupt turn - probably 85 degrees, so the adrenalyn would get pumping to make the turn without crashing at full speed. The goal was always to try to make it down the hill without using any breaks. i think I achieved that once or twice (I'm a chicken but I have scars on my knees from falling off my bike a few turns later because I went to fast while turning on sand! dammit!)

6. Big Sandy Beach - my favorite beach ever - the sand squeeks when you walk across it - my dad says it's because aliens landed in the water next to it and charged it up. They also call it Singing Sands Beach. My dad would take us there in his truck - we'd stand in the back and jump out without him even having to stop.This is where the teenagers would have bonfires and drink at night. During the day there would be a volleyball net set up by our friend Seth who is sadly no longer in his body. :( He was always so happy and fun to be around... but that's another story.

7. Down Front - where the ferry boat would drop off and pick up. Also where the one grocery shop was and the bar, The Spa (pronounced "Spar") which was also the only restaurant, which was connected to the post office. Edgar was the man who ran the little grocery store with the cement floor that always had sand on it in the summer that would feel so fun on our bare feet. We'd get half a popsicle - leave the other half for someone else - and put the charge on the family charge account. Once when we were at Big Sandy a lightening storm started in the blink of an eye - everyone left the beach to avoid electrocution and headed to Edgar's (a whole mile away) and the road was steaming and we were rain soaked. H, S and I "took showers" under the rainspout that poure down hot rain from the roof of his store. The rain stopped and we all went back to the beach to pick up where we left off.

longing for Long - pt.1

First off, I have to say that there are at least five Long Islands in MAINE alone so please don't say "don't you mean New York?" like most of the fools I've told about my childhood home say to me.

Anywho...
My dad built this amazingly weird and wonderful house (that some said was actually a "cabin") on this tiny island in Maine called Long:
This map shows you exactly where.

He hand sculpted a fireplace from cement and stone that looks like a cat (he says it's a dragon) complete with stones for teeth and pipes for eyes that came from inside the chimney that had little amber marbles in the front of a cat shaped eye that would glow when the fire was tall enough (it was a treat to make those eyes glow).

He put a claw foot tub on top of a hand made stone and cement woodstove in the bathroom so we could fill the tub and start a fire and have a hot tub for as long as you want. When that stopped working, the only option was to shower standing in the middle of a wide open bathroom/shower room that had a showerhead hanging from a hose dangling from the ceiling.

All the doors were thick - at least four inches - and hand made with wood bars that you turned from vertical to horizontal to "lock" the door.

There was an outhouse with an old phone booth door that was spray painted on the inside and latched with a rope for a door.

There was another outhouse with windows from a trailer.

There was a toilet upstairs, because his girlfriend got tired of peeing in a bucket at night, that used water from a hose to fill the tank.

The washing machine had no outer casing so you could watch your clothes washing. This machine was inside a room that had one wall made of fiberglass and that's where my father practiced his agriculture. This room had a door to nowhere (but outside) that my friend Vinnie jumped out of in his doc martin boots on a dare (he landed fine but no one else has copied him).

I can still hear the sound of the fridge latch.

The front door had a lion with a ring in it's mouth for a knocker.

The giant oriental rug that was on the floor in the summer would cover the front stone and glass wall to try to keep heat in but I would sit in front of the fire place, with the kerosene heater on the other side of me, and when I would turn my face up and exhale, I'd see my breath.
I hated taking showers in that big open room in the winter and every time my bare feet would touch the floor, they'd ache.
My room was cozy tho - it had wall to wall carpet and was the size of a walk in closet (probably 5" by 10") so the vertical electric heater kept it toasty.

All of the floors in the house were black and white checkered - upstairs was actual linolieum tiles and downstairs was a painted, uneven, cement floor.

I've never taken pictures.

I took it for granted.

I lost it when I wouldn't go to court with my dad to fight his girlfriend whose name the house was in and who just wanted him to pay the monthly mortgage until it was paid off and then he could have it after she left him for some other man with a house in New Hampshire after 11 years of common law marriage. She won the house because my dad refused to become a part of the society that deals with taxes, W4s, bank loans and other government inspired shackles. She sold it to the neighbors who started using it as a garage.

The last time I was there, I couldn't even get berth enough to take pics of the fire place cuz there was so much crap in the living room.

My dad doesn't talk to me anymore - partly because of my reticence towards going to court, partly because he's a bit insane and paranoid and partly because he doesn't agree with advancing as a human, and I do, and I won't let him get away with that when we do talk.

I hear he's building a ferrous cement catamaran houseboat on a river in southern Oregon. If you look at this map and notice the tressle on the east side. Under that is where this boat is being born. It's 40'x60' with ferrous cement pontoons filled with styrofoam with a house on top.

I hope to get to see it, and take photos of it, sometime soon.

Confessions - my humble review

I just got back from Madonna's Confessions concert and I'm very pleased.
She didn't open with a reading of her confessions like on her website, as I was hoping, maybe just because of how she opened Reinvenion, but she appeared from within a giant disco ball that descended from the ceiling - most likely, she was enclosed in that thing for at least an hour before starting the show - that alone is admirable, tho doesn't make a concert...
The video of her with horses and equestrian accoutremont was fun but, as I will mention for other segments, our side, high view obscured at least half of the half circle screen that was above the stage so we missed out on some of the presentation. Her dancers danced on their hands and knees and moved as if they were horses - so far into the mime was one dancer that he had a saddle on his back and when on all fours, Mrs. Ritchie mounted it. Giggle. I liked that part.
Uh, I forget what song that was, maybe future lovers... oops.

She then had a video montage of kids in africa with a link ad for some organization I've never heard of - the clinton something dot org... she sang Live to Tell for that one. Again, the high side view obscured some of the text she posted and the video feed on the monitors only included the first statement.

There was also a spoken word bit that her dancers seemed to do - one by one they did very personal seeming dances while emotionally vulnerable monologues were played. I thought that was really sensitive and lovely, except that I didn't understand a word of what the girl said - perhaps it was just too highly pitched for the audio system. Sigh.

She came out on a mirror tiled cross, standing on a platform with her hands propped in some hooks and the mic extended from the cross so that it was in front of her mouth - no headsets in this show. She actually encorporated the handing off of her microphone to her dancers when she needed both of her hands, into the coreography - just like the eternal bride she is.

Oh, that reminds me - she sang Like A Virgin with video of people falling off horses juxtaposed against images of x- rays - no clavical ones tho, just ribs, appendages and hips. I loved that - as if she was saying that her accident last year made her feel brand new "feels so good inside..."

She had some amazing dancer/acrobats during Jump. One stunning specimine was a beautiful brown man (they were all beautiful, different genders and colors [duh] and shirtless, with lots of dancer/acrobat muscles - woot) who jumped from the top of one jungle gym to another and then another and then off of it to a ping pong table (those are my shortcut descriptions). Her dancers were all edgy urban style - some post krumpers, some gettin' their anger out thru insane full body movements, one did this really cool dance inside a cage (during the song Isaac - Isaac was there [duh] and sang very well with a stoic face) covered in some kind of hooded cape that she used beautifully.

She played some back up guitar as if she was lead guitar, haha, while her guitar teacher hung out on a bank of white speakers, in his white suit, playing his white acoustic guitar. It was sweet to see her play some rudimentary chords and effects and then leave it for him. I think he played on every song. Donna DeLory and a new Niki (Richards, instead of Haris) were there doing backup and a bit of dancin with her at the end.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Confessions_Tour

1. "Future Lovers/I Feel Love"
2. "Get Together"
3. "Like A Virgin"
4. "Jump"
5. "Interlude (Dancer Confessions)"
6. "Live to Tell"
7. "Forbidden Love"
8. "Isaac"
9. "Sorry"
10. "Like It Or Not"
11. "Interlude (Sorry remix)"
12. "I Love New York"
13. "Ray of Light"
14. "Let It Will Be"
15. "Drowned World/Substitute For Love"
16. "Paradise (Not For Me)"
17. "Interlude"
18. "Music Inferno"
19. "La Isla Bonita"
20. "You Thrill Me/Erotica"
21. "Lucky Star"
22. "Hung Up"

For all of you who are gay or who love someone gay.

Kudos to playwrite Jeff Whitty for writing this honest and straightforward open letter to Jay Leno.

Open Letter to Jay Leno

I have lots of gay individuals in my life and I find humor against them to be tasteless and ignorant - unless one of them is telling the joke... I've been known to chew out bulletin posters who like to display their ignorance in the form of "humor" that made me want to vomit.

I wish I could show you the text from the above mentioned chew out but he's committed myspace suicide and my sent mails to him are gone (he did apologize, fyi).

Here's the text from the above link:


Playwright Jeff Whitty (Avenue Q) is pissed off at Jay Leno's glib gay joke fodder, and we're right with him. The only way for macho jerks like Leno to realize it's not okay to make fun of gay people and profit at their expense is for us to tell them. And boy does Jeff tell him:

When you think of gay people, it's funny. They're funny folks. They wear leather. They like Judy Garland. They like disco music. They're sort of like Stepin Fetchit as channeled by Richard Simmons. Gay people, to you, are great material ... Mr. Leno, I have a sense of humor. It's my livelihood. And being gay has many hilarious aspects to itnone of which, I suspect, you understand.

Read Jeff's entire letter here.

Dear Mr. Leno,

My name is Jeff Whitty. I live in New York City. I'm a playwright and the author of Avenue Q, which is a musical currently running on Broadway. I've been watching your show a bit, and I'd like to make an observation:

When you think of gay people, it's funny. They're funny folks. They wear leather. They like Judy Garland. They like disco music. They're sort of like Stepin Fetchit as channeled by Richard Simmons. Gay people, to you, are great material.

Mr. Leno, let me share with you my view of gay people:

When I think of gay people, I think of the gay news anchor who took a tire iron to the head several times when he was vacationing in St. Martin. I think of my friend who was visiting Hamburger Mary's, a gay restaurant in Las Vegas, when a bigot threw a smoke bomb filled with toxic chemicals into the restaurant, leaving the staff and gay clientele coughing, puking, and running in terror. I think of visiting my gay friends at their house in the country, sitting outside for dinner, and hearing, within hundreds of feet of where we sat, taunting voices yelling "Faggots!" I think of hugging my boyfriend goodbye for the day on 8th Avenue in Manhattan and being mocked and taunted by passing high school students.

When I think of gay people, I think of suicide. I think of a countless list of people who took their own lives because the world was so toxically hostile to them. Because of the deathly climate of the closet, we will never be able to count them. You think gay people are great material. I think of a silent holocaust that continues to this day. I think of a silent holocaust that is perpetuated by people like you, who seek to minimize us and make fun of us and who I suspect really, fundamentally wish we would just go away.

When I think of gay people, I think of a brave group that has made tremendous contributions to society, in arts, letters, science, philosophy, and politics. I think of some of the most hilarious people I know. I think of a group that has served as a cultural guardian for an ungrateful and ignorant America.

I think of a group of people who have undergone a brave act of inventing themselves. Every single out-of-the-closet gay person has had to say, "I am not part of mainstream society." Mr. Leno, that takes bigger balls than stepping out in front of TV-watching America every night. I daresay I suspect it takes bigger balls to come out of the closet than anything you have ever done in your life.

I know you know gay people, Mr. Leno. Are they just jokes to you, to be snickered at behind their backs? Despite the angry tenor of my letter, I suspect you're a better man than that. I don't bother writing letters to the "God Hates Fags" people, or Donald Wildmon, or the pope. But I think you can do better. I know it's The Tonight Show, not a White House press conference, but you reach a lot of people.

I caught your show when you had a tired mockery of Brokeback Mountain, involving something about a horse done up in what you consider a "gay" way. Man, that's dated. I turned the television off and felt pretty fucking depressed. And now I understand your gay-baiting jokes have continued.

Mr. Leno, I have a sense of humor. It's my livelihood. And being gay has many hilarious aspects to itnone of which, I suspect, you understand. I'm tired of people like you. When I think of gay people, I think of centuries of suffering. I think of really, really good people who've been gravely mistreated for a long time now.

You've got to cut it out, Jay.

Sincerely,

Jeff Whitty

New York, N.Y.

this morning, on Valencia Street

I saw a girl rollerblading down the bike lane in jeans and a knit tank top, with no bra, hair down, smoking a cigarette.
Oh, and, she was listening to an ipod that was in her back pocket.
I love this city.

today on 6th street...

I went to my favorite mexican place for a burrito - it's acutally the less enticing version of the favorite place, because the neighborhood is awful (btwn mission and market on 6th) but it's the same food and I wanted it bad, so I decided to plunge in.

I walked out the back door to reduce the amount of yardage I'd have to cover on 6th street proper (you know, the place glorified in the recent movie RENT - because they couldn't find anywhere in NY that was dirty enough to recreate NYC in the 80s).

Made it to market and across 6th unscathed, un-catcalled, un-anythinged but sun shined-on. Heck, I even made it all the way thru the order at said mexican place (Cancun for you curious types) and then realized I was $1.66 short at this cash only establishment.
(yeah, I know - my bad)

I cross 6th again to hit the $3/service fee ATM at the donut shop. I stupidly decide to try my empty savings account first and add two minutes to my standing there. In those last two minutes, a woman comes up to me saying "don't say no, please don't say no, i need a dollar" - I didn't say no, I said "good luck to you, I don't have $1 for you" and she proceeded to tell me that her husband just died.
"I'm sorry to hear that" and I walked to the curb to cross back over 6th to finish my transaction with the buritto man.

She proceeded to:
threaten my life
threaten my mom's life
offer to spit on my face ["thanks, but no, I'm full,"]
and tell me what a horrid, "dog girl" that I am, along with a bunch of other stuff that I missed because of the adrenalin that kicked in in my "fight or flight? ok, flight" response.

Now I wish I would have told her to go to the city for help.

or to ask her her name so I could have her arrested for harassing me (sadly, I know how to have these vagrants arrested as it was part of my job description for a while)

or just go off and tell her to "fuck off and get a job you fucking crack head! you ruin homelessness for everyone who is drug free and down and out with no help available but to ask people like me for $, food or work!"

This shit really pisses me off - I hate having to be callous because I fell one too many times for someone's "I need to get home" stories.

Actually, some woman I did give a dollar to, well call her Ruiner because she ruined it for the rest of them, told me some song and dance about trying to get $7 to get on the bus back to Sacramento. I told Ruiner why everyone was so "mean" to her on that street "because crack heads are always trying to get money for their fix on this block."

How ironic.

I saw Ruiner three days later giving the same schpeal and I was so pissed.

Pissed for having been "taken" by some bullshit song and dance that NO one falls for unless they're new.
Pissed because I wanted to believe her - like that flute player who only needed another $7 to get his bus ticket to Seattle who, after I gave him $2, I've never seen again (and I happily assume he's reunited with his ex and their daughter up in Seattle)

I saw her two days after that, doing the same thing at a train station I was biking past as I yelled at her "LIAR!" and sped on.


I'm so sad and tired of this. I think I need to move to the country or something - this city makes my heart ache (in love because the good stuff is soo good as well as dispair at the lack of justice for simple humanity)

Stop taking advantage of my sad, broken heart. Please. Don't say no.

And quit coming to the city to "try" one of the millions of ridiculous drugs that ruin people's lives!

short and sweet

I feel like I'm blindfolded in the land of opportunity, playing marco polo with my destiny.

Repost: A Little St. Patrick's Day History Lesson

I pulled this off of my friend Samir's blog because I was thinking the same thing and he did all the writing. If you disagree, post it here and we can have a lively discussion.
I might have written this with a little less agressiveness but the sentiments are the same - and I mean no insults to those of you living your lives as happy christians.

For all of you who are planning on celebrating St. Patricks day today, I thought I'd fill you in on a little history that you're probably not aware of. Being half Irish myself (if you look closely you can see the freckles) I'm very disturbed that so many people blindly celebrate the life of a man that they know nothing about. So here's your schoolin' bitches.

I know some of my readers, and some of my friends, are christians. If you are one of these people you already know that not only do I not care what your religious point of view is, I respect your opinion, even though it is not my own. But, by now you're surely wondering where this is going so I'll get to the point.

Patrick recieved sainthood because of his role in bringing christianity to Ireland. That is well known fact. What isn't taught in schools, and ESPECIALLY in church, is that in order to do this he had to take tens of thousands of lives. He came to the country to "civilize the savages" that were the majority at that time. These so called savages were Druids. Peaceful, earthy type folk who worshiped the world around them and all the great things it offered. They lived in complete harmony with nature, and harmed no one. They lived predominantly in the woods, or forests. They practiced connection with nature in every way, including free, and natural sexuality, which angered Partick and his ilk to no end. How dare someone think they are free to do what they chose with their genitalia. Alas, they didn't worship Patricks god, so they had to go. He traveled throughout Ireland converting the people to weak or weary to fight. The ones who did put up a fight, and stand up for their beliefs, and way of life, were murdered. Men women and children alike were slaughtered without a shred of conscience. No one was spared.There was no tolerance for freedom of choice. Jesus or death. After he had converted and or killed the whole of the Druid population, he burned all of their records. History, art, folklore, and life practices. Can't have any of those "villainous teachings"*(see the true meaning of the word at the bottom) raising their ugly heads and causing trouble for the church. To this day Irish peoples the world over are almost all Catholics. They have no real grasp of what Druidry, Celtics, or their own ancestors, were. An entire civilization was wiped out, all in the name of a supposedly loving and compassionate god. Therefore on March 17th of each year, I wear black. I wear black to mourn the loss of a race of people who only wanted to live in peace, their own way, and not bother, or be bothered by anyone else. An entire civilization erased by a man who couldn't stand the thought of anyone else in the world thinking differently from him. And for this murder, this genocide, a monster was immortalized, Connonized, for his efforts. It is not at all unlike Hitlers attempt to wipe Jews and Judaism off the face of the planet, although not on nearly as large a scale. So if you are Irish, or plan on celebrating today, take a long look at what you're drinking to. Maybe you should wear black and do what us Irish folk (even halfies) do best. Have a wake. Get shit faced drunk and party for the ones who are gone. Celebrate the lifes that were lost, and what they stood for.

If you made it this far, I applaud you. I'm sorry to be such a buzzkill, but someone has to take the initiative to educate the skull orchard that is the human race in the new millenium.

* The word Villain comes from the Latin word Villa, meaning country house. Villain means literally "one who dwells in the country". Patrick assumed that all country dwelling peoples were Druids, and therefore bad people. Thus the word Villain, or "one who dwells in the country" became synonomous with an evil person.

I'm going to go sit in the woods and mourn now.

dead

i see dead animals on an almost weekly basis in this extremely dirty city. there's something so interesting about death that i have to photograph it. i choose the camera phone over the digi cam on purpose - the grains are necessary.

kinda sad, kinda pretty pt II

kinda sad, kinda pretty

How do legos get spilled onto a crosswalk next to the Embarcadero?

this is the first time I've felt pride about my alma mater

"The art of teaching lies in being able to recognize an individual student's unique potential and reflect it back in a powerful enough beam to start a little blaze."

- Gillian Brown, B.A., M.F.A., M.A.E., Adjunct Assistant Professor of Art, Maharishi University of Management







She was my teacher only casually and only during my last year and I feel that her input had a profound effect.
(click the photos to go to the details about the artist and the piece)

mittens

as i put on my coat today, i had to hold on to the cuffs of my sweater so that they wouldn't get caught in the sleeves and i remembered when i used to wear mittens that had a string attaching them that ran accross my shoulders and thru the arms of my coat.

this memory gave me a curious, comforting and nostalgic feeling that is not triggered by much.

best chat ever

jkitten: WOW
jkitten: I just did a HUGE walk about outside

acrimson: nice - what did you find?

jkitten: a new branch of my bank to make a deposit
jkitten: then two little alleyways that cut off the people traffic... and a cute little crafts gallery

acrimson: fun
acrimson: did you get rained on?

jkitten: THEN I went to Hole Dudes and picked up "stuff" for tonight

acrimson: Hole Dudes - I thought you were referring to a gay sex toy shop

jkitten: it is really cruisey at Hole Dudes... esp in the fruit section

acrimson: LOL

jkitten: yes I did get rained on... and when I was totally wet, I started dancing up by the carousel, like flashdance, whipping my hair around my face and through myself up againist the concrete wall... slowly sliding down to the ground.

acrimson: no you didn't
acrimson: I don't believe you

jkitten: I wanted to
jkitten: makes for a nice picture

to the caribbean, me

i'm off to the caribbean sea, to the us virgin island of st john this evening and i won't return to the cold rain, (tho, right now, i'm having a hard time seeing the screen for the bright, warm sunlight streaming in thru the blinds) until the 24th.
i'd love to say that i'll post some travel blogs but if all they have is a dial up, i'll be spending that time on the beach instead.
there will be a summary, and maybe some of my own photos too, shortly after i return.

WOOT!

liquids and gemstones

sometimes
when i close my eyes
i see moving images

* * *

tonight
i saw
up
as if from the bottom of a wine glass
and a blue, faceted jewel
was being dropped into the liquid thru which i was looking

* * *

wandering around my island
on an early winter eve
the light rain
peppering my face with itself
and the full moon in the sky
made me feel as if
i were floating in a glass of champagne
with the bubbles gently and persistently
popping on my skin
while i looked at the glint of the diamond in the ring worn by the woman holding the glass

* * *

liquids and gemstones
interesting...
(to be continued...)

granola

1. I'm having a bowl of trader joes mango passionfruit granola for lunch at 2:55pm

2. When I started living on my own at 17, I made up a pancake that consisted of the following: butter on the pan, arrowhead mills multigrain pancake mix, made thick, on top of bubbly butter, granola sprinkled onto/into pancake before flipping, peanut butter spread on smooth side of pancake, and a mixture of butter, maple syrup and jam poured over top. I sometimes made this pancake for others - especially if they braved a 45 min ferry ride and 10 min "big car" ride to my dad's house when I was feeling like showing them that I came from a very strange place (hence the living on my own part).

3. My mom told me recently that her first bowl of granola took her 20 minutes to finish. This was when she lived in a house with 10 other people, worked at a coffee house where Bonnie Rait (wonderful lady), Linda Rondstat (liked to eat a full pan of brownies and then spend a few min in the bathroom...), Bruce Springsteen (he's very shy, drinks jack and ginger but has to have Clarence Clemmens - sax - order it for him) and the E Street Band (Clarence asked my mom out! I'd have such a much better complexion if she had said yes!!) were known to play small gigs, and was crowned the Brownie Queen (I finally figured out that this must have been because of "special" butter...like mother like daughter I guess...)