Photo Love: My Favorite Little Tyke

Ike!

NY. NY! NY!!!

I have THREE trips to NY scheduled in the next three months. Yes, I am awesome.

Trip Number 1: Work work work. And then two days of NOT work! :) With my favorite gay man in the world. We might make out a little.

Trip Number 2: Special invitation from the CEO of my company for a retreat. So, work. But GOOD work. Maybe I'll get a fucking raise. (HAHAHAHA.) <--sarcasm

Trip Number 3: CHRISTMAS IN NY!!!!! I have decided I'm doing Christmas by myself this year. Just me, for myself. No family, no obligations, no lovers, no hangups. ME ME ME ME ME. And, although it will be a "for me" kind of holiday, I am taking a six day trip to my second favorite city with my first favorite lesbian. Hot lesbian. HOT. Like, THIS kind of HOT:


Maybe I'll be able to keep my hands to myself. MAYBE.

The Dead Weather

Check out my Dead Weather review on TMITM. Tuesday, 9am.

Short. To the point.

...

When I miss you, I look at your facebook profile. It helps, but it kinda hurts, too.

I'd Say You Make A Perfect Angel In the Snow

Tell all my mourners
To mourn in red —
Cause there ain't no sense
In my bein' dead.

-Langston Hughes



One died too young.
One died too suddenly.
One seemed to linger on longer than necessary.
One wanted to linger, but lost their grip.
One wanted to die.
One didn't know whether they wanted to live or die, but decided.
One deserved what was coming to them.
One didn't.
One died when I was too young.
One floated away softly, peacefully.
One crashed through the barrier.
One smiled, and held my hand, and sighed, and died.
I carry them all.

Underboobage!

Hey peeps: check out The Music is the Message for a sweet little bit on some of our favorite album covers.

NSFW.

-Boo

Yesterday Seems So Far Away

I'm in the midst of feeling like I'm riding a janky carnival ride. The highs are good: I'm getting back to myself, opening up in a way that I haven't before, reconnecting with the most excellent people. But some days, it feels like the bolts are loose, and things could just shake apart.

This last week was shaky. Man, was it shaky. It made me really question my expectations about the elements in my life, and now I'm forced to reexamine what it is I want.

That is such a hard question. What IS it that I want?

It seems so easy to answer in general terms. Happiness. Simplicity. Success. Health.
But what about specifics? Where do I want to be? What do I want to do? Who do I want to do that with? Where do I see myself in five years?

My aunt asked me that question a few days ago--where I want to be in five years. I could only half smile and shake my head. Five years? Hell, I don't even know where I want to be in the next five minutes. And the disturbing part of that is, I don't really care.

I just have to put one foot in front of the other. Live in the moment. Try to accept that there are no accidents.

That is so hard for me. I want everything spelled out--preferably in a nice font--and ready for me to embrace it. Right now it is like reaching out to embrace a puff of smoke.

But, like my mom once said: Leap and the net shall appear.

Aiieeeee.

Ear Candy: Gossip

GODDAYUM I love this fucking betch. She would be my best friend, if I could track her down long enough to enchant her with my enchantingness.

This is Gossip's Standing in the Way of Control



Be on the lookout for my upcoming love fest/culture investigation on Gossip at The Music is the Message. And just go check it out, because the writers there are eff bomb fucking awesome.

Kisses!

Boo

Sticks and Stones

HA. Ha ha ha.

I just had to share this.

I just found out from a friend that my STBEx has been spreading vile rumors around about me. And man, is this a round-about way of finding out. Here's the path that this rumor took to reach my sweet little ears.

My friend's friend was in an airport and randomly met some guy that went to school with my STBEx. They struck up a conversation, and somehow my STBEx came up. This guy, whom I'm pretty sure I know (because it was when I was supporting STBEx while he was finishing an associates degree in woodworking, and that school is exceptionally small so I know all his classmates), says this: Yeah, his ex-wife. What a fucking whore.

Now, this comes as a surprise to me for several reasons. A) Me and STBEx agreed not to talk about our private shit to people not in our close circles. B) He probably hasn't seen this guy in months, but somehow the guy feels he has a right to say something like that to someone he just met. C) I think I know who the dude is, and if it is who I think, then the motherfucker was IN OUR WEDDING.

Wow. Just, wow.

Author's Note: When I heard this, I couldn't help but laugh. The friend who phoned me to tell me this was fucking furious, and clearly had not believed me when I told him that the STBEx had actually said such nasty things to my face over the years. This "whore" comment was so low on the radar of nasty shit in comparison that I can't HELP but laugh. That, and what the fuck am I really gonna do? Call him up and say, "DID YOU CALL ME A WHORE MOTHERFUCKER???" No. There is a piece of white trash in me that wants to do that, but I've outgrown giving in to my baser needs. Anyway, this just becomes more fodder for my Rage/Revenge album currently in the works. GTs.

2nd Author's Note: Also, what the fuck is his problem? He's the one that jumped into bed with someone after two weeks. AND he tried to get me to fuck him again while he was still living in my house when we were separated. AND! Last night I was nice and made him dinner--long story--and he tried to fuck me AGAIN!!!

Whore.

Ear Candy: Rasputina

Here is an incredibly beautiful cover of Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here by one of my favorite bands, Rasputina.



Also, be on the lookout for new posts back on The Music is the Message, coming soon!