Sherpa of the Banality

Out of Touch...

2008-09-21T21:37:00.004-05:00

Can't figure out why I feel a little unfocused today. Well, all week actually. Everything is fuzzy. No highs or lows. Just complacency about everything around me. I fear I have finally become something I abhor completely. A cynic.

And Again...

2008-08-28T20:29:00.004-05:00

Yet another gay man murdered. I saw the story on America's Most Wanted show a couple of weeks ago and have been wanting to post. Here is the most recent news story that I read today:

Just one phone call.

That is all grieving mother Desire Brazell prays for.

Since Rashawn Brazell's butchered body was found scattered across Brooklyn three years ago, his mom has lived with the added burden of fear that the killer will strike again.

"I hope someone can call in and give the information we need to close this case," said Desire Brazell. "I don't want any family to go through what I went through."

Tomorrow, the Brazells will lead a memorial march in the 19-year-old victim's honor from his old Bushwick apartment to the Bedford-Stuyvesant subway station where his body parts were first found.

They hope the walk will stir up public interest in the case leading to that one clue pointing cops towards Rashawn Brazell's killer.

During the predawn hours of Feb. 17, 2005, two transit workers found a bloody trash bag in the tunnel of the Nostrand Avenue station. The bag contained Brazell's right shoulder, right arm, and lower legs, police said.

Five days later, another grisly discovery: a piece of Brazell's pelvis was found in a Greenpoint recycling plant.

Police have chased down many possibilities behind the sick murder - from angry gay lovers to a twisted serial killer.

Even "America's Most Wanted" picked up the case, airing at least three shows featuring the slaying.

"We have chased hundreds of leads across the country, and we are not closer today than we were in 2005," said Lt. John Cornicello, commander of the NYPD's Brooklyn North homicide squad.

"It is very hard to say after all this time that there is nothing new. It is a shame."

Detectives have flown all over the country - from Florida to Colorado - hunting leads, said police.

Investigators spent time in Texas sniffing around a duffel bag factory after DNA evidence proved that an empty black bag sitting in the subway tunnel was used to carry the victim's corpse.

To keep the case active, detectives have busied themselves blanketing the city with flyers featuring Brazell's sad story and combing the dance floors of popular gay clubs, hoping for a hint about how he died.

Desire Brazell refuses to give up.

She is confident that one day the right tip will finally deliver the justice she is longing for.

"This person is sill living amongst us," she said. There is $22,000 reward for information leading to an arrest. Tipsters can call CrimeStoppers at (800) 577-TIPS

Does anyone know ANYTHING??? I cannot believe that this man's crime has gone unanswered in 3+ years. Is it because he is black? Gay? From a poor neighborhood laden with crime? What. The. Fuck?????!!!!!

Arrrghhhh...

2008-08-27T21:47:00.004-05:00

In the below photo is my humble little brownstone. On the top floor is me little cave. Yes, all three windows...don't hate. In in that rather large bedroom is a mothafuckingcuntlickpieceofshit MOSQUITO that has been slowly draining my blood for the last 48 hours and I can't find it!! My rather well maintained skin is looking like a page of braille, all swollen and itchy! I have even tried putting little X's with my finger nail on the bumps to try and take the annoyance away. It is an old wives tale, but it feeeeeels sooooooo goooooood. (Except on my face). Now, last night I saw it and thought I got it, right after Hillary's speech. I drifted off to the first stages of R.E.M sleep and then....that horribly sickening whiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnneeee. Right by my ear. Swat. Ouch. Drifting off again.

Ok, so I sleep naked. It was as if a vampire bat was living in my closet and having a feast of every piece of me. Finally, at half past four, deliriously near tears I switched on the light. You would think I would see this thing all swollen with my blood, drunkenly fluttering around on its feast. Alas, zip-zilch-zero. By golly, I had a shoot today and if I didn't get some sleep I was going to do some damage to some poor model. So, I waited. And waited. No mothafuckingcuntlickpieceofshit MOSQUITO!! I ended up wrapping myself up in bedsheets for my last two hours of sleep with only my cute little nose poking out. Yes, it got that too.

Now, I sit here with a can of RAID Flying Insect in a desperate attempt to kill this pointless creature of God. I know this is a ridiculous end to the means, but what is a boy to do? When I least expect it, I get another bite. I have sprayed a million things in my bedroom tonight, the slightly swinging curtain string, the dust bunny, ( I really need to clean this shithole), even my own shadow. Yes, dear reader I sprayed my shadow because at the corner of my eye....I moved. I think I am high on the fumes. The only thing keeping me from a good night sleep; is this can of RAID. I will prevail. Wish me luck.

Time will heal...

2008-08-26T16:41:00.002-05:00

Almost a year since I have publicly posted on this blog, so maybe it is time to reopen my thoughts on my life and the life that carries on around me. It has been a year to the week that I moved into my pad in Brooklyn! The above picture is my apartment bathed in the changing light of the season. It has been my cave that gives me some semblance of roots in a city that is covered in pavement, and that really doesn't allow for much leeway in planting new seeds of change. I have tried time and time again to do it, and made it a full year. Cheers to me.

Today I am a bit melancholy. A word in my vocab that I have a tendency to use a lot. I really do like the word, but I don't necessarily the feelings it invokes. I am lonely, I am tired, I am happy and I am sad at the same time. My new home for a year is a stones throw from a home that I didn't choose many years before. A home that welcomes me every night after a long day without judgment. A home that has been around for over a hundred years and has seen many struggles, hardships, and tears. A home that has heard the laughter of children, or the hum of a seamstress' sewing machines, or a scribble of a writer's pen. This is my place now. And yet I am still not grounded. It is my normalcy in a life that has been far from normal. It will nurture me and send me on my way when time comes. It has no true place in my heart, but it is a constant reminder that it will stand in silence until I am ready to let it in.

A stones throw. To a world that is now gilded by gentrification, and growth. A place that I lay in terrified unknowing, starving for food and for love. I was 18 sleeping in a school yard without the slightest clue if I was going to wake up in the morning. Or, if I wanted to. For many years I couldn't remember the names of the streets or the neighborhoods that I roamed. It wasn't until I was on a casual stroll one fine Sunday last fall, when I encountered that school and the memories came flooding back. I threw up. Gone were those broken bottles and graffiti filled walls. In its place was brightly colored murals drawn by students with wonder in their eyes. The basketball courts held booths of a neighborhood fair with clothes and fruits and various fun little nicknacks. I stared and stared, holding onto the chain link fence trying to steady my wobbly legs. I stared with furious indignation at its presence, so sturdy with time. I wondered if it remembered my tears, my fitful sleep, my hunger pains. I wondered if it could talk, would it have acknowledged me with surprise or with bewilderment or with a knowing smile. I stared with disbelief that I happened on this place without any goal to do so.

You can forget the past, but the past rarely forgets you.

Whirling Dervish...

2007-12-10T09:54:00.000-05:00

The act of twirling in a circle for hours on end by the Whirling Dervishes of Turkey just so that they can feel connected to God astounds me. Jihadists despite what the American press make them out to be are actually struggling with themselves to be closer to God. The first definition of a jihad is the significant inner struggle within a person in relation to religion, beliefs and devotion. All that souped up mumbo jumbo of holy war terrorists is something FOX News lubes their asses with. Point I'm trying to make is I hear all these different terms for all these God fearing people and I too find myself struggling. Mostly because I can't find it deep in my tummy to latch on to such blind faith. My skepticism of a higher power has put me at odds with what surrounds me everyday. Now I am beginning to question my resolve. Not because I now want to start believing, but because I think it is generally good to strive to be accepted into a positive light after death. Generally, most atheists or agnostics feel that if there is a God why does he let all these horrible things happen here on Earth. Since it continues to happen, he therefore does not exist. My whole thing is proof. Sorry, the bible is a book translated from 6 different languages over lets say 1700 years, by men. Too faulty. Torah, Koran same shit. So no words in those good books convince me. I dunno, maybe I am being rash and downright combative, but sorry kids I just can't believe. All I can do is try my hardest every day to wake up and contribute to this universe in a positive way. No other reason other than to try and correct the negativity that seems so prevalent in today's society. Not to get into heaven, or have 70 virgins (which mind you would be nice) or be reincarnated as a goat or a rock star, but to combat that evil that is occurring in Dafur or China or Iraq-Afganistan-Iran-Israel-Palestine blah blah blah. Call me blasphemous, but do it far away from me. I am tired of your bitchin.

The Pit of Dispair...

2007-12-10T09:12:00.000-05:00

...would be the East Village. Gone are the cool hipsters/artists, in its place is the dull frat boy and the sorority trash that screw them. I went out with friends Saturday night to the LES and East Village. Granted it was Saturday night, which in itself is such a retarded time to go out in this city, but expected a good time none-the-less. All in all, it was rather dull. It seems the life of the party left right before we got there, because it realized that the party blew chunks. Guys bumping chests, girls sloshing drinks, the trendy bartenders totally disinterested. Everywhere. I was generally amused by the whispers and looks we got by said bunches of people. I assume we looked out of place, or completely shocked by their behavior. By half past midnight it was obvious no matter where we ended up it was all a big fat downer. So what does one do in such situations? Well, I brought the party to us. Well, my apartment actually and what a humdinger it was! Gay boys and the fruit flies that love them, sassy chics and the artsy boys that love them, butch lezzies and the lipsticks that love them, intellectuals and the ones that listen to them. I swear there had to be 40 people in my place and everyone was having a rad time. Draped over the sofas, sitting cross legged on the beds, on the stairs, hanging out the window. Not one copper was called and there wasn't a huge mess to clean up. Made out with this hot chic, while her boyfriend looked lustily on. It was surprisingly easy to misbehave and host at the same time. I would say I would plan another one, but I think it was best that I didn't in the first place. I haven't been terribly spontaneous in a long while and I kinda missed it. Today, I am going to continue my spontaneity and do something completely random. I think I will start by hitting up the Yemeni restaurant down the street. There was some shady characters in there the other day, and by golly I want an adventure!

Full Circle. Ha!, Yeah right.

2007-10-29T09:29:00.000-05:00

Well, howdy do-la. I am back. Sorta. I am taking it one step at a time. On my time by-gawd! Seriously has a been a while since I last posted hasn't it? Well shit, I have had a crazy go of it though. I really didn't have the stamina to poor my guts out over the last couple months to tell you the truth. I needed to grow and nurture and all that mumbo jumbo. But, I really needed to. I kept talking about actually going through the motions of growing and becoming a better person, but in all honesty, I was talking out of my ass. And such a cute ass it is. You should see it. Truthfully, I didn't know how to do it. How does a person self help, if he or she doesn't know what help they freaking need?!

In a nutshell, I will break down my calendar for the last 8 months or so. Ok, so in February my so called friend wanted to move back to his place in the Village. Turns out he was using my to have a nice little vacation in Miami Beach. Through the grapevine, people have whispered that he just kinda passed his resume around and hung out by the pool all day. Granted the dude said he would may decide to come back to his place but in all likelihood he was done with New York. So I took him at his word, shelled out all this cash, didn't sign a lease, and got ass fucked in the end. Not in a good way. It was his place though. Clue number one. I "believe" too much. I very often forget people promise a lot and don't follow through. More on this later.

So, back down to the shithole. Otherwise known as Miami. I seriously loath the place. Whenever I hear people exclaim how much they love Miami, want to choke them into clarity. But, I digress. So I did my whole fashion thing, racking up some money and subletting like a motherfucker. I slowly slid into the hole of depression. I tried so hard not to feel sorry for myself and my situation. It is so easy to start that whole woe-is-me bit and actually start to believe it! I suppose it is one of the traits I inherited from my mother. I slowly began to resent my father and all his money. I began to resent people that were successful. I soon began to realize I was beginning to hate myself. Yikes! What to do? I did what I've done a million times before. I ran away.

Running away never quite works for me in the way I want it too. Sure, short term it is all glorious, but ultimately I get back into my old habits. This time was different. I became truthful with myself. I said, "Joshua, what the fuck do you want?" And, I sat on it. Gagged, on my faults. Kicked myself around about my choices, and began to...well...grow. In essence I have been living my life incomplete. I wanted to be liked. There is this great line in the movie MAGNOLIA that one of the characters says over and over. "I have so much love to give, but I just don't know where to put it." Good one. I forgot to put the love in myself. My best friend busted me down and told me that I am self loathing. What a kick in the gut, but I'll be God damned if she weren't right. I had to start doing it my way. And REALLY do it my way. The way I wanted to do for so many years. I had to go back to the place that was the beginning of my own unraveling. I had to go back to New York. I had to come full circle and start again.

New York. Ok, so I flopped around for a couple of months. But, I am here again. I have set down roots. I have to become "me". I arrived in July, and have been the happiest I have been in years and years. I came up knowing I was going to go to school. Put myself in debt a bit more, as if I was a freshman in college striking it out on my own for the first time. For the first month, I was living with family in the mountains of New Jersey, since I hadn't found a place yet. Family that I had only heard about and met once or twice. It was such a reward to get to know them all and hear about all their family stories. And stories about how I changed the lives of many just by being born. I began to see where some of my faults of my father may actually not be faults at all. They actually may be habits, and walls of defense for his own survival. He still drives me insane, but I have my reasons for that too. I began to see my mother in a different light too. I suppose she made a lot of her choices based on the lack of guidance that she needed to get by. In doing so wasn't able to get out of that hole of self pity. We will never see each other again. I realize that now and with such confidence. She and I are on different paths, and will not meet at some crossroad. Slowly but surely, I am beginning to forget her entirely. I realized the other day I have completely forgotten what her voice sounds like. She hasn't crept into a dream in ages. She is but a whisper of a memory. I have almost forgotten the past, but funny how the past doesn't forget you.

Brothers. They too will never be a part of my life. Indifference to that one. 14 years of separation will do that. I did try and make one last ditch effort to contact my brother Brandon via Myspace. Funny how that little shit website puts you in touch with so many people. He wrote back. He needed to collect his thoughts. Those thought collections have been 6 months in the running. Hence, I have done my part. I have moved on and once again began to forget whatever lasting memory I have been holding onto. I have no idea where Kyle is. Nor do I care. "Oh my," you may say! "How cold and aloof". Oh please. Time will do that. There is no gut wrenching pain or regret I feel when I mention their names, or think about any of them. Nothing. So, why waste the energy. More energy for me to use on me.

New family. Two of them, a brother and a sister. Cute kids and all, but grrrr, this is going to sound a bit, well, mean...I don't care. I can't think of any way to fluff it up. Sure, I have a new half brother and sister, and I am the godfather and I am supposed to be all lovey-dovey and all. But, at 32 years of age, I am not about to start living vicariously through the decisions/choices my father makes. Ouch, even I had a hard time re-reading that last sentence. Its not that I won't take my duties as a godfather seriously though. I won't shirk away from that duty. There just isn't going to be a replacement for the family I had before. As fucked up as it is. Ultimately, I have no irrepressible urge to dive into the whole new baby thing. Before you begin to think there may be some resentment or some jealousy, think again. I just don't feel anything. Sucks, I know but such is life.

So much more to ramble on about. Wait 'till I get on about where I eventually moved too, and how it correlates with my past. It gets juicy. I may be using the words karma and fate a lot. In the meantime, I welcome myself back. I will enjoy my occasional diarrhea of the fingers. Its about time I began munching on some Peptobismal again. Its about time I grew the fuck up.

Yes, I know

2007-07-23T21:39:00.000-05:00

Yes, I know my blog is outdated. I am working up to posting alot of new stuff but I have been swamped with working, and relocating again. Plus, frankly I just haven't fucking felt like posting. Nothing wrong with that right? Sorry for the "fucking" part.
In a nutshell, I have a new brother and sister. I am finally back in New York. I am working like a fool. I am enjoying my life as I see fit. And I have writers block. Soon, I promise. Soon.

Time...

2007-04-17T13:14:00.000-05:00

I am going away for a while. Not like I haven't been away as it is. Mostly away from writing down my thoughts, and posting for all to see. I have been in a funk lately, so I think it is best for me to go off and get reconnected. I picked a doozie of a place to disappear though. Wyoming. Nothing but pure open sky and unbridled beauty. Old friend has a ranch out that way, so I guess I will be attempting to find my own little piece of Brokeback Mountain, sans the passionate love. I turned 32 last week. Hmmm. I don't know why I just typed that. Maybe I am scared of getting older? Who the hell knows anymore. I sure as shit don't. Don't you worry about me though, I will still keep a half smile on my face as I ride into the abyss that has consumed my heart.

And Again...

2007-04-17T13:07:00.000-05:00

Ryan Keith Skipper, 25, was found stabbed to death by the side of Morgan Road near 19th Street West in Wahneta (Polk County, FL.) by a passing driver about 1:20 a.m. March 15. Deputies have arrested William David Brown Jr., 20, and Joseph Bearden, 21, charging them with first-degree murder and declaring the slaying a hate crime. A witness told detectives Skipper was killed because he was gay.

Hate crimes are on the rise. I went to the vigil held in his honor at the Gay and Lesbian Community Center in Ft. Lauderdale, FL. About 100 people showed up. I don't think there was enough press about this incident. Especially since Skipper's death mirrors Mathew Shepard brutal beating. When will we ever be safe?

Still Happening...

2007-03-08T12:27:00.000-05:00

In Detroit last week, 72-year-old Andrew Anthos was riding on a city bus and was asked by a fellow passenger if he was gay. The passenger then followed Mr. Anthos off the bus and attacked him with a metal pipe. Mr. Anthos died from his injuries Friday night and according to media reports, police are continuing the investigation without any solid leads.Under the current federal hate crimes statute, federal authorities have no jurisdiction to assist in this investigation, even if local authorities were to request that assistance.

Mr. Anthos was a staunch advocate to have the Capitol (Ohio) Dome lit with red, white, and blue in order to honour those soldiers who lost their lives and for those currently serving in one of the Armed branches.

Why is this still happening? I am sad.

p.s. I haven't been in the mood to spill my guts for a while. I will try and get back into the swing of things soon. I just have alot of stuff on my mind. Hope all is well with you, my friends in cyberspace.

Flurries...

2007-01-18T12:58:00.000-05:00

Day 16. No cigs for a few days now. Just getting over bronchitis too, which I think was obtained due to all the crap I've been coughing up. Getting over the three day hump was the hardest, but thankfully I haven't been wanting to eat like a pig. Cranky, moody, and miserable yes. Turning into a fatty, nope. I have been doing so well since I really want to light up. The guy who owns the place I am renting, wants to come back to NYC cause he hates where he is now living in Miami. Can't find a job, etc. So, once again I am back to looking for a place to live. I am really tired of it. Angry at someone. I can't disolve the relationship. Emotional, and having to take a break from making a difference. I need to work on myself. Before I break down and take another puff. Kinda a crappy start to the New Year.
I crashed here a couple times when I was homeless. Redhook. It is only one that I can find, and remember. I cried this day.

Nighty, Night...

2007-01-08T22:06:00.000-05:00

The only thing you will regret is denying who you really are.

Good night, sleep well and dream your impossible dreams, for when you wake the day is new, the world is yours, and your destiny will shape the future.

Yowser...

2007-01-08T10:44:00.000-05:00

The West Village is a death trap!! Oh, I know I am being melodramatic, but yesterday I woke up to the sounds of sirens because the building behind mine was on fire. Then when I was leaving this morning there was another fire across the street. Now, after just getting back from my lecture the smell of gas was extremely strong getting off the subway. As I was walking to my place off of Bank Street, there were cops and fire people EVERYWHERE! I mean tons of people running around, slightly panic stricken. So, I pulled up CNN and MSNBC, and apparently there is a gas leak that is showing up everywhere including Jersey, which originated in the West Village according to Mayor Bloomberg. Just swell.

Back on Track...

2007-01-07T18:43:00.000-05:00

I kinda miss my long hair today. I dunno why, maybe because I have a new friend that has longish hair and I'm kinda jealous. Maintenance was a bitch though. Anywho, so getting back on track in the New Year. Aside from feeling a bit cranky today from my efforts to quit smoking I am ready to get back into the swing of things. The last 6 weeks has been a chaotic whirlwind and I think now I am just now able to touch the floor. Tomorrow I will have the pleasure of sitting on a panel at a University and speak about my experiences of being a homeless gay youth, and my efforts to bring that subject into mainstream conversations in the gay/lesbian community. The lecture will be with the University's Queer Studies department in conjunction with the Constitutional Law classes. Mostly the topics discussed will be about our rights and where they stand after the interim election. Now that the Democrats are in office, past efforts to solidify basic human rights will be back in the public eye. At least I hope they do. Seems like all the politicians these days want to satisfy everyone and gravitate towards the middle. No rocking of the boat in Washington, but being out of sight out of mind just isn't working.
I hope what I have been doing, and what concerns I have for youth will be absorbed. I am not exactly sure what the response will be, but I would like it to go over well. When I broach the subject of prosecuting parents for kicking their gay kids out of the home, most people raise their eyebrows. A lot of people think that the kids should abide by the rules of the home, and if that includes not allowing those kids to explore their feelings, then so be it. They can do whatever they want when they hit 18. Obscure argument, and I never know the right answer to it. Others feel that we need to get recognition by the government first then we can work on the discrimination that occurs in the home. Again, another obtuse point, but valid none-the-less. Will recognizing gay/lesbians as a group of people that needs protection under the Constitution eradicate the bigotry in religious households? Hell, are we even a "special" group of people? Aren't we just people? Round and round we go again. This battle just keeps getting more and more complicated, doesn't it??
Secondly, I am in the pursuit of finding a new agent here in New York. That is such a mission in itself. I am so laid back, and I find myself wading through the political b.s. and egos tiring. My work as a makeup artist should speak for itself, and I shouldn't have to sell myself as hard as I am doing. I going to agent to get them to work for me. Not the other way around. I have yet to figure out the nuances of the fashion industry. Maybe I am too nice, and need to step up in the diva department. Ugggg, that karma is just no fun to deal with though. Who likes dealing with a egotistical maniacal homo? Hell, I can't do it and I'm gay! It seems like people really like to see that pomp and circumstance when an artist walks onto a set or in a room. It is almost expected. Lord, winning the lottery would be swell right about now.

I Can Barely Sleep...

2007-01-05T13:57:00.000-05:00

I am waking up in the middle of the night over and over. Last night I had the worst nightmares. Unimaginable terror at 2:30 in the morning, and I couldn't get back to sleep for another hour and a half. The picture above is on New Years morning, I think the most sleep I've gotten in days. I was wondering if it was because I quit smoking as a resolution, or if it stress. I just wanna sleep a whole night through, damn it. By the way Brad, if you are reading this, you better have quit the cancer sticks too. I thought you said you were going to do it last year!!

So, my Aunt on my mother's side came up to Manhattan with her new partner (well new to me). It was such a pleasant visit filled with happiness. Auntie's partner was so happy to meet someone in the family that didn't reject her and show her bigotry. It is so weird for me to be the beacon of guidance on how to handle bigots, coming out of the closet and rejection for my aunt. Especially since she is a bit older than my mother, around my dad's age actually. Weird cause I was left to deal with my mother's cruelty for years, and now I am the one that is trying to get everyone to grow the fuck up. Infuriating in some aspects. Who am I to be pissed though? I should just be happy that people are seeing that its ok to falter, plummet to the pit of despair and yank yourself up again. Hell, I am pissed about a few of the adults in my life. My dad, my aunts, grandmothers. The majority of them ignored my plight for decades, and now I am the one helping them through their little life crisis's. Am I being a little bitch for feeling this way? Lord, maybe I just need a good beejer.

This week has been a week of wiping the old slate and starting anew. I am on the search for a new agent up in New York. That in itself is stressful. Letting someone else take my career in their hands and pushing me farther. That maybe the only thing I am confident will pan through. I just wish I would hurry up and find one that is going to work well with me. Oh yeah, I found out my godmother/Aunt is the Vice President of a major cosmetics company, the same one that recently got remarried to a filthy rich man and didn't invite me. Not that I support the institution of marriage, and probably would have blow it off, but she spent $100,000 on the wedding, the least she could have done was splurged on an invitation, right? Best still, is that she lives in Manhattan! Details are sketchy but she is either near me in the West Village, or on Park Ave. I am sure this little bit of info is going to turn into something scandalous. I just goes to prove you can't pick your family, you have to appreciate all their little nuances. Do we? Hmmmm, I don't think so.

Buh-bye 2006!

2006-12-31T10:06:00.000-05:00

So, what a year huh? It was chock full of hum-dingers, from the Canadian ice shelf breaking off to the Republican morality scandals. Granted you couldn't really rely on the traditional press to give accurate news, so we turned to alternate ways of communication, educating ourselves from every corner of the Earth. We made friends 3,000 miles away, marveled at each other's creativity and determination to have their voices hear. I sit on my bed typing this, clearing my cobwebs with a good cup o' joe, hours away from a New Year biting my lip in anticipation. I mean, seriously I am going blind into 2007 no clue as to what is going to happen. I'll be damned if it ain't exhilarating as hell.

It seems this Holiday season was wrought with tension and anxiety. Everyone seems to be running around blindly, more tense than a cat on a hotplate. Honestly, the spirit has just been sucked right out of the season. I would have been more comfortable staying in New York and volunteering or something of the sort. Instead, I had to jump on a plane, and camp out in Florida for 8 days, run around and fight the crowds to buy gifts with what little flow I have left. I cannot state enough of how not into it I was. I think being alone (as in boyfriendless, again) also brought me down a bit. This is like the 500th Christmas without a significant other, and I swear I am about to go through ANOTHER New Years Eve kissing a friend instead of someone I want to plow like a pornstar. Alright, enough of the pity party and back to family. Sooooo, I did enjoy most of the stay in Florida, because I was hammered most of the time. One thing about my family, they like to slosh them back. Only thing is, once the alcohol starts being consumed, the fluff disappears and the truth comes out.

One prevailing theme this year: Joshua needs all the support, since he is too skinny, apparently starving in New York, broke, wasting his life on ambitious artistic dreams, yadda, yadda, yadda. I am sure everyone hears harping around the holidays, but for me drinking eggnog laced with half a bottle of whiskey was not enough to muffle the words of doubt, or blur the looks of pity and concern. From my grandmother (whom currently feels she is about to die) telling me I need to "come home" to my father telling me that I need to start making "this New York thing" work. What they don't see is how disconnected I feel every time I get off the plane in Miami. I just cannot find a reason to be there. I literally almost lost it about 50 times, and Christmas Eve was a exercise in restraint that would have Depak Chopra showering me with praise.

Even better, I find out the night I arrived that my stepmother is pregnant with twins. Oh yes, dad is 54 and about to have 2 new kids in his life. Now, there is a large part of me that is excited for the old man. I mean, new life is wonderful. I want kids of my own, if I ever get a freaking husband. I will be in my 60's when they hit my age. How nuts is that?? I know they have been trying to conceive for a couple of months, but it was still a shocker when I heard the news. I will be the godfather. It will be kinda weird giving spiritual guidance since I don't actually believe in a God. My stepmother is pretty religious, so I am sure we will but heads on my views of spirituality. It is a big step in both of their lives really. No more expensive trips to the far reaches of the world. Their mansion, which is a death trap with its 30 foot ceilings, 150 feet of waterfront, swimming pool, marble floors and cut coral staircase, will have to be sold. Since I expect my stepmother to be a stay at home mom, dear old dad will be practically living out of his office now. No more last minute house parties. And, biggest of all, I have absolutely no intentions of moving back to Miami to help out. None. I have a feeling that this was an expectation on everyone's part. No way, hell no, you gotta be kidding. I wish them all the luck in the world, I really do; but I cannot say how much I am valuing the distance between me and my family right now. Out of sight, out of mind so to speak. That is gut wrenching for me to say, since for such a long time I didn't have the access to any family. I fought for a long time to gain their support, love, understanding and made many sacrifices doing so. I have missed something in that process, and in 2007 I intend to find the lesson.

The New Year. At midnight, the slate wipes clean, and again you can rework your destiny. Reflect on past mistakes, triumphs, pain, happiness. It is easier said than done. Always is, especially admitting to yourself that some of your choices were not in your best interest. It is also a time to evaluate relationships, reestablish boundaries, take walls down, climb over others. So, when you are kissing someone into the New Year, or alone taking in the revelry on t.v., standing on your rooftop seeing the fireworks, just know somehow, somewhere you are making a difference. In the grad scheme of things, you are just a second burst of light. Just make sure that second dazzles and burns with such intensity that eternity will remember and will be blessed you tried your damnedest to make it count.

!@*&# Bank!! I loathe them!!

2006-12-01T12:53:00.000-05:00

I really want to cry. On November 10th, I noticed charges on my account, funds taken out via ATM, etc. Total is in the thousands. Now, initially I thought it was a mistake, so when I got back up to NYC on the 15th I ran into the bank to check them out. Turns out Citibank (fuckers) sent out another MasterCard/Debit card to GAWD KNOWS WHERE in Miami. Most likely it went to my old address and some ghetto ass motha fucka got ahold of it and blew all my money. So now, on December 1st I am still without my funds refunded back to me. No returned calls on the status of the fraud investigation, every time I call in there seems to be a new answer. First I was told that my money would be refunded in seven business days, then it was ten now its lovely customer service reps (retards) are saying it could be up to two (arrrg) months!!! I am a private banker with this shithole bank, so naturally I would expect a tad bit better service then the average joe. My personal banker has been out of the office since September 22nd. Thanks for the warning Paula! Bitch, you better be pregnant. Now the last time I was running around New York City without money, I was a kid and living on the streets.
I am not about to be running around selling my ass for some money. Especially since I did all the police work, got all the reports, and locations of the transaction. Why can't this bank just pull the a.t.m. tapes? They can take my money but won't give it back!! ARRRRGGGGGG!! I can't complain until I get every penny back, but I know the second I do, I will be sure to make someone cry. I HATE CITIBANK. Ok, that helped.

Again?

2006-11-26T19:26:00.000-05:00

PRISCILLA PIMENTAL

On Friday, when relatives arrived at her apartment to check on her, they found dishes unwashed by the kitchen sink, and her bed, a mattress on the floor, unmade.

A gay pride flag was spread across her bedroom floor, below the blood-streaked walls.

Priscilla, from Bethlehem, PA., a very small town where everyone knows your business, moved to New York in her teens. She made the move because she knew she was gay, and wanted to avoid hurting her mother's feelings. Being from a large Puerto Rican family she knew the stigma associated with homosexuality, especially in Latin culture. Yet despite the move, she remained close with her family often visiting home often full of jokes and witty impersonations.

She was a bartender in Queens and building a life for her self in the upcoming lesbian community. She had a relationship with a woman for about two years that she took home twice to meet the family. When the relationship ended a few months back, she took up skydiving and recently dyed her hair flaming red. She seemed to be loving life.

She was found Friday bound with her hands behind her back, and stabbed multiple time in the bathtub, along with her dog Gucci. Now, currently the investigation is under way and the police have admitted that there was no forced entry, but they did mention that the possibility Priscilla was targeted because she was gay, was certainly one of the top motives being investigated. Especially, since Queens has been seeing a rise in hate crimes this year. I hope that she wasn't targeted for this reason. As I hear more stories of crimes against gays, lesbians, and transgendered people I keep wondering when our elected leaders are going to wake up and realize that we need anti-discrimination legislation. With this country's politicians constantly pandering to the religious right I wonder if we will get this legislation. It isn't a religious right to not live in fear, it is a basic human right.

Ain't That Some Shit?

2006-11-24T10:58:00.000-05:00

So, my Thanksgiving was uneventful as far as the dinner and all that junk is concerned. It was a nice and calm holiday for me, and I couldn't been anymore thankful. I was nice and lazy, did some volunteering, and went to a friend's house for the extremely traditional turkey dinner. I think Thanksgiving is a day to catch up with people that you have been meaning to get in touch with for a while. Now, admittedly I took the easy route on some calls and did the whole text message thing. So, a bit embarassed by that tackiness, so if you got a text message from me, it had to have been later in the day when I was mentally drained and not in the mood to talk on the phone. I has no reflection on who you are at all, swear! Mentally drained you ask? But why, it was a "lazy day" and all, right? Well, in certain respects, yes it was. Until I decided to try and get ahold of some aunts on my mother's side.

So, first up was dear Auntie Cathy (after trying to get ahold of my godmother with no luck since she changed all her numbers). Now, I feel I have spoken with her more recently but apparently it has been some time since I have reached out. Now, my aunt is the oldest sibling of my mother. And, my mom loathed her because she felt she got all the attention, being first born and all. My mother could have spent about 10 years in therapy just for these feelings. Anywho, she caught me up on the gossip of the family and herself. The godmother got married to some filthy rich old guy. (Thanks for the invite!) I need to mention that my godmother was the second one in her family to get a divorse after my mother. She was married to a woman hating, drunkard, ex-priest. Yes, her former husband was a priest when she met him. Scandal!! Anywho, so she married rich. Good for her. My Aunt Cathy, too is divorsed. The third in the family to get divorsed. It has been about 4 and a half years. Her husband was a cold and selfish man, also a friend of the bottle. Which of course is too bad, because Cathy really only wanted to have a family and a farm. She had all that until she realized that the man was a dick. Then the bombshell!!

While divorsing her husband, Cathy moved off the farm, her pride and joy and moved in with a fellow pediatric nurse and confidant we'll call Michelle. Well, needless to say Cathy and Michelle haven't left each other's side since shortly after moving in. That's right, my Aunt Cathy, the oldest child in an extremely devout Catholic family, married to her husband for 25 years, had three kids by him, and now divorsed...is a lesbian! This relationship is going on 4 years. I have spoken to other members of the family and there has been no mention of Michelle! Even my grandmother has kept me in the dark. Well, I guess I now know what side of the gene pool I get it from!

I am happy for her, she really seems shocked by it all. Even four years later. She is begining to see the hypocrisy of the Catholic faith as well as her family. The sisters will not speak of it, nor is Cathy's partner included in any family events. Cathy's kids have no problems with it, so that is the upside to the whole matter. However, it appears that I being the rebel black sheep of the family, aside from my mother, is now out of that spotlight. The torch has been passed to Cathy. Here's why. Aparently, everyone thinks that I am straight (or at least going through a phase). So guess who has to come out of the closet AGAIN at the next family function? Moi! Which at 31 years old, is so lame. I am not really sure what I am supposed to do with this information! I am awash with emotion. Aside from continuously having to pick my jaw off the floor every time I think about it, I am also thinking how great it would have been to have a lesbian aunt when I was coming out and on the streets. Apparently my mother told everyone that I was gay when I was young, well before I even knew what I wanted. I could have used some guidance. And who the hell else has a secret? Who else might be gay? Cousins, uncles? Any of my brothers? Man, this so called life is just filled with some crazy ass shit, ain't it?? I need to start writing a book, cause it doesn't get any better than this. Actually, it probably does. Stay tuned, beyotches.

Turkey Day!

2006-11-23T10:09:00.000-05:00

It is nice and dreary today, the big holiday when we are to give thanks for everything that we have including this great country stolen by whiping out an indigenous people. I don't mind so much the rain actually. I was far too lazy to actually get out of my snug and cozy bed. So those who are on the parade route are very brave. Or really stupid, I haven't figured out which. So, I sip my French Roast coffee, in my new apartment in New York's West Village, waiting for my crepe dijonaisse to finish cooking up. I have opt out of the family celebrations this year for a few reasons all of which have left me with peace of mind.

I've decided to stay away from Miami for the holiday for one major reason. Now, I have been labeled an instigator for a fight, or a sour puss by some. I could care less actually, I feel my point needed to be made and I might have to continue the point into the Christmas season. Here it is. My Uncle Rob (we'll call him that because that is his name) has been dating this woman for a few years named Pam. Now most members of my father's family don't really like the chic, but understand that Rob does, so grumbles are kept behind closed doors. Until the wine comes out. I have been nice to her, I think my family can be really critical so I of course gave her a chance. Until recently. Pam, has two daughters. One of which is recently turned 17. And, she was caught in bed with another young lady, by my uncle. I saw that coming a mile away, you know, gay-dar and all. However, the turn of events afterward has floored me. It is well known in the family that I am openly gay, and chapion for gay/lesbian rights, especially when it comes to gay youth. So, when I recently heard that Pam's daughter moved out of her house and in with the girlfriend. My eyebrow was raised.

Pam is a girly girl. Well, actually more like trailer tramp but I ain't one to judge. Her daughter is not. At all. I mean she could kick my ass. Her mom has been trying to get me to "help" her daughter out by pleading with me to set up a photoshoot for modeling, teach her makeup technique etc. Said daughter, (can't remember her name, so we will go with Thelma) seemed receptive but only to try and elevate herself in her mother's eyes. Now that Thelma has found herself, and realized her true self, mommie dearest has done what every non-existant parent does when they find out that their child is gay. Become more distant, protect their image, and cushion their egos, and alienate said child. So much so that obviously the condition in the home has become so unbearable that Thelma moved out. The second this occured, the locks were changed. See where this is going??

So, knowing Pam would be at Thanksgiving dinner at my father's house I let the old man know I really cannot support this woman anymore, and really didn't want to be in the same house with her. Her behavior is unbelievavble, and I shouldn't be expect to hold my tongue around someone who is such a bigot. I've learned to shut my mouth when it comes to my opinion on the Republican party. However, I just can't back down on this other matter. Am I being fair? I mean, it really isn't my place to tell someone how to raise their children? I suppose not, so why not show up and become a walking tirade? Frankly, I just don't want to deal with the drama that will ensue once I get a glass of Proseco in me. That is what Christmas dinner is for. So, I sold out in some aspect. Then again, I have watch my hips so I am saving myself a few extra miles on the treadmill. Today, on this day of thanks, I am thankful that I can sleep in, I don't have to cook the potatoes. Don't have to deal with bigotry and ignorance. Its a good day.

Heads or Tails!

2006-11-10T11:43:00.000-05:00

It is fascinating to me how people take for granted their own lives. Me, having been quite reckless myself many of times can't really judge too much, but I was completely aware of my actions. I was pushing the envelope as close to death as I could, just to feel alive. More-so because I could. However, the comes a time (or a few) when you just want to throttle someone and slap them silly. Especially since said person is throwing away precious borrowed moments for a good taste of old fashion drama and attention.
Now, I cannot presume to understand the mental anguish someone with HIV/AIDS lives with on a daily business. I would be a fool and arrogant to say that I did. We all have our subjects we know more about than others. With the exception of one man, every friend that I have that is HIV positive understands that they are on a timetable. It is its own entity, HIV. Those same people are some of the most amazing people I have ever encountered. They live and fight and educate and encourage. Bad days, yes. But for the most part you can see some amazing examples of what make humans unique in their ability to adapt and persevere.
This one man, my ex, is a train wreck waiting to happen. I mean one of those high speed Euro trains kinda wreck. I knew I shouldn't have dated him, and I had some of the best advice I have ever gotten from someone about dating someone with HIV, and still I dove right in trying to fix him. No regrets of course, I had fun but I did it all for the wrong reasons. I wasn't in love with him, I was in love with the idea of loving someone who is broken. Since I have suffered a whole bunch, I hate seeing others who are suffering. My big flaw is that I try too hard to help. Its a flaw because I sometimes let my normal instincts get clouded. In his case I am trying to be a friend after the fact, and I am seeing now that this most likely will not be able to take place. I don't want to divulge any of the mind games he plays, because that would be...well...third grade of me. However, I am furious at the fact he doesn't take care of himself physically. Piles of coke, pills, crystal, booze. Sometimes a day without eating. Uppers to wake up, downers to sleep. Even more frustrating is the fact that he is completely aware of what he is doing and his reasoning is that he just wants to have fun. Six years into his diagnosis and all he wants to do is just have fun. Is it my place to even get mad at him? It's his life right? What the fuck should I care if he is going sliding into the grave ridden hard and haggard! Maybe because I value his life just as much as I value mine. It is a gift. No matter how hard I have had it, I always wanted to live.

Catching the Sun...

2006-11-09T11:15:00.000-05:00

The Democrats now control the House and the Senate, Rumsfeld resigns and the world is all better, right? What a nice little dream that would be. I went to a political event on Saturday for Equality Florida. It was at a club (of course) and sponsored by alcohol companies (double of course) and from what I could tell it was a party for cruising. Ok, maybe I am being a tad jaded, but everyone was all about Gay Marriage this, and Gay Marriage that. Puhlease. Now, I am a hopeless romantic as I have said before, and all for the house with the vineyard and 3.2 kids and husband but why the gay caucus adopted "gay marriage" as acceptable terminology for basic human rights is bizarre. It is phrase created by the Christian and Conservative Right to get their core base fired up about the conspiratorial gay agenda. Implications that we 'mos want to spread our evil ways and take over the institution of marriage. However, of course it is a legal contract to protect two peoples assets (etc.). Ok, so why this big push?? Why does everyone have to use this phrase. Don't you think that shit will get passed easier if we just change the labeling?
I also noted that people were talking about the rumors of our new Gov. Elect Charlie Crist. Yes, those rumors. Butt Pirate, fudge packer, friend of Dorothy. It was on everyone's lips. Hell, my father knew before I did. People were actually EXCITED that there could be a chance that he would win. Now that he is in, if the rumors are true, then Floridians should be worried. Since I am registered here (but live in NY) I have to be concerned for my fellow mo's rights. Gov. Charlie Crist has publicly stated that he is against "gay marriage" and would vote against any measures that came across his desk. Rumors be true, shouldn't we be concerned that there is a closeted gay man in office working for the Republican agenda in a state already reeling from the Mark Foley fiasco? Don't get me started on that fool. Its too easy.
The point I am haphazardly trying to make is this. Our people, or nation or whatever you want to call gays/lesbians as a whole is STILL missing the point. Marriage is not as important that lets say a national anti-discrimination law. Wasn't there a couple of guys in Idaho that got three years for nearly killing two gay men in a vicious gay bashing?? What about the rights of gay youth and their education? Don't mean to beat a dead horse here, but before we accomplish something amazing as "gay marriage" maybe our youth should feel confident enough to come out at 10 or 15 or 18. What about addressing the ever growing racism in our community? Hey, look the nation wants some changes and their votes reflected that. What about us? Do we think things are going to get better? Are you encouraged by the changes? The time is ripe, carpe diem and all that jazz.

The Double Standard...

2006-10-02T12:39:00.001-05:00

You abandoned us. You left us to her delusions and her demons. You let her tear you apart and tear you down. You let her take away your pride, your manhood. You let her get away with it. You claim it was a sacrifice to give it all up, but it was a choice. The choice was yours to fight, to have faith in the legal system, faith in yourself. The choice was not easy, you were scared your precious guilded image was going to be sand blasted into oblivion. However, what others thought of you was not what you should have cared about. You should have cared about us, the innocents. The impressionable, the hurt. We looked to her for guidance and received deceipt. We looked to her to be the voice of reason amongst the chaos and became convinced that her ideals were correct, because we saw no other way. We had no other guidance. We held on to her, because her version of love was all we had that was tangible and visible. We abandoned our love for each other. Hers was so disgusting and evil that we kids had only enough energy to comprehend one travesty at a time,sacrificing each other to survive. I tried to rise up, to show that hope prevails above all else. I made sacrifices, I smiled dispite the suffering, and I got back up. Again, and again, and again. I continue to make sacrifices to find sound footing. Yet, when I steady my wobbly knees with you, you rattle my Earth once again. You have me running around in circles with your empty promises, the dangling of the sugared carrot has been pulled out of my reach one too many times. My heart is numb, my stomach in knots, my mind weary. Blow after blow and yet I still try to move planets, change time, create illusions to cushion your ego, have you see that you should have fought for me. For us. You should have been our rock, our salvation, our proof that hope prevails. You should have been our father.

(adapted/compiled from various journal entries 1993-2006)

Part Deux...

2006-09-27T11:54:00.000-05:00

The venti Sumatra with a shot of espresso is not pulling me out of this fog this morning. It is like a quagmire of Tylenol PM, human emotions, drama, and questions. I'm about to move onto yet another protein shake, which added to my already nautious stomach is about as fun as shoving a pencil in my eye.

The questions is, where do I start. Do I fire my agent for dropping the ball on what was potentially going to take my career into the public eye, by becoming greedy? Or do I just give my father the rude awakening he so deserves by putting him in his place, and reminding him that he dropped the ball with me one too many times for his trite advice to really make a difference in my life. Is it senility that he is suffering from, or is it once again his constant crafty need to try and control my life via his capitalistic lawyerly ways. Do I make the effort to reach out and communicate with my mother's side of the family, knowing full well that most likely that it will invite negativity and those inevitable questions; "Have you heard from your mother? (No), What about your brothers, do you know how they are? (Not since 1993, you know that) What do you think went wrong? (I dunno, maybe because she is FUCKING CRAZY???) What they hell?? I am the one that got the bum deal, the beatings and the mental aguish, all along they knew this was going on, and NOW they need to know answers why their sister/daughter behaved the way she did. Answer is simple. She took the easy route. It is soooo much easier to make others suffer than to suffer yourself. Interesting how my father 2 months ago, on the verge of having his second marriage dissolve because he controls and does not communicate, cried and cried for advice and help in saving his marriage. And when my sage advice and rude awakening came he took it and bettered his life. Yet missed that I was hurting. Odd how humans do that, huh?

And what about "him"? The one I let get to me dispite the fact my friends and my own little devil and angel on the shoulder told me RUN DAMN IT, RUN!! He is HIV+ and there is nothing I can do to take that away. Sorry, but I am also not putting my life at risk any more. Being negative after all this time dispite all the horrible shit that happened to me, and I am amazed I have even considered being in a relationship with this person up until this point. I alway tell people, that you need to think for yourself because you only have you to lean on when things get shitty. And frankly I have been, but now I have to think about him. What about his emotions which are all over the place due to the meds. He tells me he shouldn't be alive. He tells me that he is falling in love with me. I tell him not to hang on, cause even if he wasn't positive, I am a piece of work. Dark and brooding just barely covers it. I hate having to explain what that scar is for, or what that burn mark is from. Puts me in an point of internal rage. Yet, he hangs on. Maybe he just needs someone to snuggle up against late at night when he is scared. Is it fair of me to let him do it?

So once again, I am back to living and loving and fighting and screaming internally. Which person do I address first, and how do I keep all the emotions separate even though all those lines are a little blurry. I feel like that caged cougar at the zoo, all black and fiercely determine to pace back and forth with anxiety, waiting for that moment to spring into action. Run wild and free, or maul to death my oppressors. Until then, I just have to wait for 7 and 4 when they slide the chopped up meat in the cage to abate my hunger and until that day I am free again.

Random Blllaaaahhhhhh....

2006-09-13T00:42:00.000-05:00

I love the smell of newsprint. I love cloud watching at night. Especially on a full moon. I hate when people read over my shoulder on the train. I love the smell of freshly baked croissants. Reminds me of Paris. I don't understand why people don't use turn signals. Is it that hard to "flick". I love the smell of fresh sea spray. But only from the coast of Spain or Miami Beach. Anything north of Ft. Lauderdale makes me sick. I hate platinum bleached hair, no matter what is does to the features. I love little old people. I just want to snatch them up in my six foot four frame and give them smootches. I love Black Cubans. I mean those amazing Afro-Carib people that just fucking LIVE. I love the sounds of a great Cuban jazz band. I hate Regaeton. I mean really, even if I understand the Spanish slang, it all sounds the same to me. I love other people's success. I hate that sometimes it doesn't translate to me. I want a man that will take care of me. I love being a hopeless romantic. I hate that I can't achieve it. I am not a big fan of New Orleans, dispite all their travesty I frankly could care less. I hate that it sounds so shallow that I say that. I love that I can be honest enough to do so. I hate that I was able to open up and be receptive to date an HIV positive man. I hate that he hates himself so much that he feels it was ok to date behind my back. Well maybe not hate, that is too harsh. I dislike it. There I said it. What? I love that I can make a mean ass crepe. I hate that I can't make a mean ass omlet to save my life. And by gawd I live by that stove. I love that I can actually cook on a stove, instead of a pile of crates and newspaper. I love that I can let my former life be...my former life. I love that I can reflect on my past mistakes. I hate that sometimes I miss the lessons. I love that I can have a crush on someone 3000 miles away and know nothing will ever happen. I hate that I can't jump on a plane run crying like a big queen and tell him how I feel. I love that I know that it is best that I don't. I love to drink good wine and hold it in, so you can feel that soft pressure of a full bladder. Makes you somehow feel alive. I hate when you "break the seal" and by God you pee 500 time in an hour. I hate hangovers. Yet, I give them to myself all the time. I love the feel off really cold sheet when you have a buzz. I love it even better when I am sober. I miss a good hug. I love a deep one. I don't do it enough. I hate that I am too afraid to touch. I hate that I am too afraid to hug. I hate that I am afraid that others won't love. I hate that I am scared to love myself. I love slugs. So gross I know. I love this weird fascination with slobbery dogs. Makes me feel like a boy. I love being mischevious. I love the fact that people see me as a being dark and brooding. I hate why people don't understand why I am. I love being alive damn it. I just freaking love it.

Yeah, Yeah. I know...

2006-09-06T21:08:00.000-05:00

Ok so yes I haven't been posting. I have been traveling the world. Trying to find myself and help those I encounter in the process. Below is the transcript from a recent reading from Willing Warrior. Brad is expanding his horizons and trying his hardest to encompass the world. I have been blessed to be a part of that. Thank you Brad, and those of you who are beginging to realize we need to fight. Joshua

Part one:
September 27th, 10:38 pm. Brooklyn. Black Chevy Impala. I tell Guillemo to look at the license plate. Yes, this is the real time and date. I will never forget that date. The scar under my chin, or the one on my cheek will not let me forget. I have been on the street thirteen days. I try every few hours to call my mom to get me home. Home that is non existent cause frankly she doesn’t want me there. Twenty five bucks for head. Seventy five for more. I have 250 saved up, which isn’t bad since I eat like a pig. He seems normal. Cute, blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes. The wedding band on his finger threw me for a loop, but shit, I’m eighteen. And new to the game. He takes me to Eldert. Not so good. Little sketchy, near a beer distribution plant but good lighting. Something bugs me. Not the sketchy area, not the car, but how cute and young he is. I ask him what he wants, still not sure of the trick/whore etiquette yet. Everything. All right! Closer to my goal to get off these shit filled, scary ass streets. Despite my position, I am still acting like an elitist snob. I am too good for this. I am too cute for this. He is sensual at first. Sensing my apprehension he goes into machismo control. Not to bad at first, but a little grabby. Not my cup of tea, being the hopeless romantic that I am. Maybe, I’ve seen Pretty Woman too many times but of course in my position who doesn’t want the wealthy hottie to take me away from this? He bites. Hard. Not my cup of tea. But, I stay. Again with the biting. Are you kidding me with this. What kind of foreplay is this? Now I am apprehensive and say...”You need to calm down!” That was the wrong thing to say. The knife is not what I expected. I was expecting that whole Crocodile Dundee butch mammoth knife to come out. HA! I was actually shocked at the travesty of it. A fucking serrated kitchen knife. You know the one that does a bad job cutting a bad cut of steak? I’ll be damned if it didn’t leave a mark though. Its amazing how much blood comes out of a wound above the neck. It is amazing how much pain something no more than the length of a calculator can cause INSIDE you. Its amazing how much pain being pushed out of a Chevy Impala with a work book causes to your spirit.

Three little letters. HIV. Six months of wondering if the man that raped me so hard that I required 7 stitches “down there” gave me those three little letters. A death warrant. When the final word came that I was free and clear the emotions that overwhelmed me was surprising. I wanted to die. I did not deserve what my mother did to me. I did not want to face the world with the complete and utter lack of knowledge of how humans could take such and ugly turn. The easy turn. It was easy to rape me, because by his standards I was gutter trash. He didn’t need to know that I actually used to live on the top floor of a luxury home, or that my intelligence got me accepted partial scholarship into Yale. He took all that away and took my doubt of a higher being, or a belief in myself.

Flash forward to 2006. I have fallen for a boy. Man, really. He makes me laugh. He is scared to hear about my past because he sees me as this god that can defeat the world. His friends are in awe of my advice. Nothing compared to living on the street. Everyone has given me the nickname Prophet. Ironic since I can’t tell the future, but I can spot an evil person 100 yards away. I have managed to stay HIV negative despite the coke habit, and the GHB overdoses. Negative despite the times I have tried to die by someone else's hands. I have fallen for a wonderful boy who makes me happy. A boy that told me 3 weeks ago to the day that he is HIV positive. Are you kidding me? Did I get a defective deck of cards? What is more surprising is that the second he told me, I ran out and got my test. Anonymously, so not to be put on a list. And here I am 15 days (business days) still waiting. It seems that where I live HIV is not a big concern. I live in a city that men that are HIV come to die. My results are lost in the mail. POOF, gone. And all I want to know is if the person I have fallen for supposed to be the one I am with for life. What if I am negative? What does that mean to us? What if I am positive, what does that mean to me? My life will change...again! Why do I keep getting these challenges damn it?? I have a good heart and I care for everyone. Why do these people keep telling me “Call us tomorrow” Is it normal for me to question my existence? Why am I so scared that I might be positive due to some asshole that raped me, or cheated on me, or the fact I have not been 100% safe 100% of the time. Why am I so ashamed that my country feels it is more PROFITABLE to treat the disease than to cure it, despite every 15 minutes someone, man or woman is infected. America hs 1.2 million people infected with the disease, Africa almost 3 million. That number includes CHILDREN. Why does my President feel that cutting the funding for education and prevention is going to benefit anyone? Why have I been so lucky up until this point, despite my previous death wish. Do you care? Do you fight for this travesty, this pandemic? There is a beautiful word in the English dictionary that encompasses so many issues. The word is ROAR. Why, God damn it aren’t enough of you out there using this beautiful word for our cause. ROAR damn it! Roar.

The Badly Needed Break...

2006-07-19T17:15:00.000-05:00

Man oh man, did I need this break. Aside from nearly checking myself into a mental facility for the fear of a nervous breakdown, I needed to create as well. So, Sunday I ran away from the big ol' city of Manhattan and scurried up to Fire Island. I had the pleasure of staying in "The Pines" with a photo crew and some models whom all got along so wonderfully. I considered it one of my gay family outings, considering all of us save one were gay. I suppose your family is really what you make of it. Or rather, who you choose to make your family. So, I was able to create and relax and work on my tan. And eventually get naked, skinny dip with tons of people, get delightfully drunk, make out with a straight chick, make out with a gay boy, and well...I digress. My tan is spectacular might I add.

Fire Island. Well for those of you who don't know, Fire Island is sort of a gay/lesbian enclave off of Long Island. Each minute on the ferry ride over calms you down and prepares you for either complete and utter debauchery or complete and utter tranquility. The lesbians have their little area called Cherry Grove. Irony at its finest. The Pines is more geared for the men, although everyone intermingles nicely. It is pitch black at night might I add, which makes it easier to maintain its "playground" status. Google it if you need more of a hint. I didn't seem to notice any high drama or cattiness usually associated with large groups of the 'mos congressing together. Its not to say it isn't clickish, I just didn't seek it out or feel that vibe because frankly I could have given two shits about what one damned Mary had to say, I was trying to release my negative buildup on the ocean breeze. I know I wished on a shooting star Monday night, but I was a tad bit tipsy and can't remember all of what I wished for. Hence, the whole thing of me getting naked (and I promise I was one of the last ones). I am searching out who has what pictures, because the last thing I need is a full frontal popping up on the internets. I may be a whore in the bedroom, but I am a complete gentleman in the living room, and I do have that reputation to uphold. Granted if I was stupid enough to let the pictures get taken...you know the rest.

Well, hopefully I will be able to regroup after that excursion and begin anew with working on me, and guiding others. I would like to get back to volunteering again, but the last time around seemed a bit overwhelming. Maybe I won't do as much. Maybe I will try another approach. However, until I can save the world, I'm taking each moment and chewing on it a bit more. I seem to be rushing through life with reckless abandon. Some lady on the train this afternoon told me that I needed to smile more, since I have a nice smile and I needed to bless others with it. I don't recall smiling at all today actually, but grinned ear to ear just for her. We both needed it.

Question Yourself...

2006-07-16T22:43:00.000-05:00

What have you done today to make you feel proud?

I've Got It, I've Got It...

2006-07-16T22:11:00.000-05:00

Alright, so the old man and the family is in Europe now at a villa in Tuscany surrounded by decadence and magical wonder. And, if I fucking have to hear about one more fantastical bottle of wine, one more excellent dinner done by this spectacular chef, or how upset that I am not there with the "family", I will purchase a ticket to the Empire State Building and proceed to climb the bars and toss myself in a dramatic flurry of gayness. I will deliberately wear a pink ball gown and a tiara and maybe so much makeup and just go out in the most over the top and delightfully tacky way. That way when the family is questioning why I did it, and why the press felt the need to mock me, remember that they brought me to the brink of insanity. The guilt trip is getting on my nerves to the point where I am just about to take a break. Seriously. I mean w.t.f.? Has anyone out there in cyber land just wonder what the hell is the point of actually having family? Or for that matter...keeping them around?

Sure, maybe your ol' ma makes a killer sweet potato pie, or gandpapa has that wonderful smell of Old Spice that just brings back old memories of picking the petals off a daisy. He loves me, he loves me not! However dear reader, keep in mind your mother probably stole that recipe from Susan from down the street and that perfect little daisy was actually a living thing until you felt the need to destroy it. Ok, I understand that a lot of people actually love their families and they were actually just dandy, and I appreciate that. I do. However, I didn't have the Hallmark rim job that everyone longs for. So do I over compensate by holding onto the family that I have left and thereby putting up with more guilt trips, manipulation, dictation on the limits of our love, blatant disregard of my rights, and dismissal of my concerns just so I won't be alone AGAIN on Thanksgiving? Yes, I think I am.

Therefore I am trying my best not to start meowing at old ladies, and running around Central Park buck ass naked with nothing but a smile and couple of pasties. I actually ran about 6 miles today, through the woods of Prospect Park, up hills--down gravel paths. I am sure people were a bit alarmed when I took off full sprint through the picnic areas and grass noll. Here I am coming off a badly sprained ankle, and I am running full tilt like a mad man. This must be my version of cutting. Like a teenage girl that puts a razor blade to the inside of her leg. Jesus, what a mess.

Saw a kid passed out in a drunken stupor on the Brooklyn Bridge today. His fingers were burnt from the glass dick. He couldn't have been more than 19. I didn't stop. Neither did anyone else. Just kept on walking. Maybe that is what is bugging me today, really. I just don't have any reason to care. Sure I go do my best to volunteer. I am honestly trying. I am also trying to live. For once. I am not trying to survive damn it! I am trying to live! So why am I trying to live for everyone else and not for myself. Man, this living shit is hard to figure out, huh?

Blame the Gays...

2006-07-08T15:23:00.000-05:00

Interesting bit of news I read today in the New York times. Apparently, the four youths indicted in the gay-bashing attack on Kevin Aviance are saying that the drag performer provoked them when he called one of them a "sweetie". The suspects claim that they were talking amongst themselves in the East Village early on June 10th when Aviance bumped into one of them and said "Calm down, sweetie." They claim that this attack was nothing to do with Kevin Aviance's sexual orientation but rather the feeling that they were "dissed".

"I did not hit the guy because he was gay," Gerald Johnson said in his statement to police. "I just did not want my friends to think...I was a pussy."

So it was the flight or fight response. He felt threatened by the homo, and apparently his image in front of his friends was put to the test by the alleged comments. So in order to prove his manhood he felt it was ok to spur the attack that put Kevin Aviance in the hospital with a broken jaw. Wouldn't those actions alone, the fear and loathing behind the beating, constitute a gay bashing? Instead, the snippy comment by a gay man (and we have all made those snippy comments) is being put on trial here. In print, it is as if the press is ok'ing the atrocity behind the action by insinuating that it was Kevin's fault that he opened his mouth and the purse flew out of his mouth and smacked those kids in the face. What if it was a straight man? A metrosexual as a matter of fact. Should that man be afraid of making a snippy comment at a bunch of kids and then perceived as a homo? Or a butch lesbian? What if she just rolled her eyes at the kids when she accidently bumped into them. Wouldn't that be considered a "diss"? So it was a gang thing then? Really? In the East Village, cummon!

So, Kevin of course calls the alligations a lie and added the brutal attack on him was "unprovoked". Thank you the New York Times, Daily News, and the Post for belittling the situation and putting Kevin on trial here. Thank you for dismissing the actions as gang related or flight/fight response by 4 kids. Thank you for taking the importance of the lesson, the march and our whole existance and kicking it to the curb. You are just as bad as the President of America. America, where apparently being a second class citizen is not enough. We will be degraded and spit on until its the 3rd class citizenship that is labeled to us. Yea!! I look forward to that ride, don't you??

I've Had Worse...

2006-07-07T08:40:00.000-05:00

So at a new place for a month which I will have to say after the first night there, wasn't my most brilliant decision. I took it from a friend of a friend hastily without really checking into it all that well. Granted it is safe and in a pretty neighborhood. However, the room faces the street and is directly above a bar. Yup, and it doesn't take into consideration the neighbors. Houseguests? Lets see, one is a lesbian with a kid going through a break up. She is very nice and "granola". She has the oddest piercing thought. She has her waddle pierced. I don't know why she would punch a hole through the fat in her neck right about where an Adam's Apple would be, but to each their own. Maybe I am getting conservative in my old age but seeing that is some freaky ass shit. The other houseguest is bar manager, who is apparently deaf. And, likes to watch movies full volume when he comes home. Last night was that trainwreck of a movie with Sarah Jessica Parker visiting her new inlaws. From what I heard it isn't all that good. Well, then again I've slept between dumpsters, so this is luxury. I think. Not so much.

Last night I tried to cook dinner for these two kids I always see coming off the subway. They are soooo mangy and skinny I start hyperventilating when I see them. There they are strummin' their guitar holding up a sign that reads "Hungry Homeless Hobos". Catchy, huh? Well here I was all ready to cook up a storm and then...I walked into one of the nastiest, dirtiest kitchens I have ever seen. I mean soup kitchens are classier. So instead of cooking and contributing to the world as a whole I spent 3 freaking hours cleansing and disinfecting. Don't even ask me about the bathtub. That was an additional hour of scrubbing. Then I called the nation hotline for gays and lesbians and proceeded to inform the operator of the atrocities of my temporary pad. They will be sending a investigative squad to make sure the 'mos in the house actually deserve their cards. They should have all their princess points taken away!

So, after hours of cleaning, and dreading the ride back into the city on the subway I began to realize I have started to become an elitest snob. Critical Charlie I was last night. No living outside of Manhattan, or with dirty people, or in a room that won't be able to hold my queen size bed. Is that wrong? No I don't think so. Well, I suppose I will be able to cook up something for the homeless boys tonight. I hope. Unless the new roomies screw something else up.

At An Impass...

2006-07-03T16:36:00.000-05:00

I tried it again today. To video blog about something, anything that has to do with my past in the alleys, parks, warehouses. I mean, I don't know what the hell my problem is. Such a wimp, really! I mean, it was a month of homelessness. No more. It isn't fear, or anger that is holding me back. It is overwhelming sadness. Gut wrenching, nausiating, blinding sadness. But, no tears come. None, I swear to you I am trying to throw down in an over the top melodramatic make Meryl Streep jealous kinda tantrum. I think I might need to see a doctor about the tear ducts, 'cause clearly they is broke! I had a conversation with Brad and Marc a month or so back and I got closer to crying then. Well, I was angry and frustrated. Now, I expect to be balling my eyes out making a huge scene and bllaaaaahhhh. Nada dude. I ain't got shit. Except for this horrific and infinite sadness.

(post script: came back to this point. What do I have to feel sorry about? This is so confusing because this is not the one thing I took into consideration. Sadness. I was expecting anger, pain, rage, guilt, shame, even fondness or nostalgia. Not this ridiculous emotion. Grrrrr, next time I swear I am pushing record and going with it. Over that yucky feeling in the tummy.)

Exhaustion.

2006-07-01T10:33:00.000-05:00

Like the picture above, I am tattered and I am frayed. I am exhausted. I am run down, I am flailing in the wind. I have no idea why this morning it hit me like a brick in the face. Maybe it is a combination of moving, reliving, and starting again. I just don't know what the fuck I am doing! Am I grasping at staws here, hoping for the best? My spirit is weakened because once again I am hoping for the best. I have been doing that since I was 12. Hope is such a funny word. So much rides on those 4 little letters. I have exsisted because of those words. I don't want to do it again. I feel I have aged overnight. Granted I haven't been sleeping all that well, haha. But, I am weary to the bones. Yes, I know I started a sentence with 'but'. Strike me down grammar gods.

This isn't an emotional low; or a bi-polar moment by the way. It is reality. Not understanding the point of exsisting. I want to exsist, I want to live, I want to continue doing whatever the hell I am supposed to be doing. However for the love of Pete, what the hell is it? What is the lesson I am supposed to be learning here? Why can't I get a grab of the ever ellusive internal peace? How many lessons is one person supposed to be handed? Honestly, have I been handed that much that I have to be questioning my point of exsistance? "Whaa, whaa, whaaa," says that kid born into a brothel in India. "Hear the violins?" says the girl in Africa just about to get circumsized. "Fuck to you," says the gay teenager in Iran as the noose goes over his head. I should be greatful that I can hang a tattered flag from my balcony, albeit with anticipation of what the consequences are for doing so. I should be on my hands and knees praising the sun, God, Allah, Shiva, or Budda for allowing me to wake up and smell the new day with a smile on my face. I just feel I am missing something. I want to grab it, I am reading the signs, sorting through my muddled thoughts, looking into the faces of strangers, listening to the words of friends and loved ones, tasting the wind, touching the earth. I keep walking into a glass barrior.

I am being dumb again aren't I? I am positive everyone asks these same questions, thinks these same thoughts, imagines a better exsistance. I am not wanting guilded streets or to roll around naked in a pile of cash. I just want direction. I keep asking the cosmos for a mentor, or a leader, or a guide. I don't ask much of the energy around me, I create my own. By creating my own positive hopefull energy I have (to put it in vulgar terms) 'cockblocked' death. Lordy, I am rambling. I have no idea what the hell I am trying to convey here. I think that is the point.

Party and Pride...

2006-06-29T10:41:00.000-05:00

So life has been a bit chaotic lately. I have been trying to find a place here in NY, then I get sick as a dog with strep throat and the flu. I have been miserable the last week and a half. Stress has a weird way of beating down your body. I have a tendancy to internalize everything that is going on in my life so of course it just weekens the immune system. However, it isn't to say that I have been a total potato and laying on the couch all day. I have been getting lost in the world of NYC, and yes, it is a world unto itself. I have been speaking with various people here and everyone bitches how small Manhattan really is. I don't see how that is possible to tell you the truth. I have been lost in the great masses of people swarming in the subways, streets, and buildings. I feel infinitely small dispite my 6'4" frame and dark and brooding way. I sit on the subway and watch what other people are thinking about. Sad faces, happy faces, angry and confused faces, scared, excited, lost, intimidated, and inquisitive faces. I swear though, if one of those faces sneezes or coughs on me again, I will have to flip out. Not used to my space being all invaded like that. Cooties everywhere.

I have been to a few of the places that I used to sleep when I was without a home in early 90's. Alot has changed in many of those places. One of the areas is now "up-and-coming". It is called Red Hook. Back in 93', if you were intelligent you did not go into Red Hook. Very, very dangerous and industrial. I am not sure if cops actually even bothered to go through there, to tell you the truth. If you got jacked up or stabbed chances were that was the last place you human eyes would see. Now, it has huge lofts for rent and there are some cute resturants by the water. Lots of artists are moving in. I can't believe it! There was also this park off of Carroll St. in Brooklyn that I used to crash at too. It was right up against a school. I think I felt safest there, even though I had to stay well enough hidden from the cops so I wouldn't get hauled off. I got this huge lump in my throat when I went to visit it again. I brought a video camera but I just couldn't get the nerve up to record anything. My stomach is churning as I write this. It was such a shitty moment in my life. I am still not over it, so I am gonna change the subject. I don't like this feeling.

Soooo, please take a look at some of the amazing stuff Brad from Willing Warrior has posted lately. He has been doing some amazing stuff. The most recent Vlog he posted has some great footage from San Fransico Pride that Gina provided and some footage from the Anti-Violence Project Rally that I sent. It is interesting to see the two different points of view and thoughts from the two different coastal communities. I especially like an answer that a woman provided about what pride meant to her. She just wasn't sure anymore. It seems the concept and the idea of pride has changed lately (last 10 years). I don't think the message from the Stonewall Riots of '69 is still with us anymore.

Goose Step!

2006-06-19T18:08:00.000-05:00

On Saturday, June 17th, I participated in the Anti-Violence Project rally for Kevin Aviance (Eric Snead, 38) and the two other groups of gays that were viciously attacked approximately a week after the President of the United States voiced his support of the Federal Marriage Amendment to the Constitution and publicly stated his bigotry. June 10th and 11th was a bad 24 hours for the GLBT people of New York City. Was it a sneak peak into the future? Well, hopefully the protest helped put the word out that we as a individuals and as a community are tired, scared, and angry. This should not be happening in the most conservative of towns in this country. Men and women should not have to be looking over their shoulders. Nor concerned about their gestures, their voices, or their thoughts. They should not have to be walking to get the attention of local authorities, the politicians, or the man who holds the highest office in the land. I cannot get over how much this man continues to disgrace this great office.

The rally/protest began at 14th and 1st and continued through parts of the East Village and up to Christopher Park (4th and Christopher St.), where the infamous Stonewall Bar is located. It was in June of 1969 that the famous Stonewall Riot started the movement for equal rights. Appropriate the we ended up there. Approximately 1500 GLBT people walked. Wished it was more, but it has to start somewhere, right?? It seemed an easy thing to do, and a beautiful day to do it. Maybe you saw something about it on the news? There were plenty of press but it seems that there hasn't been too much about it. Well, its a start. What have you done lately?

New York City!

2006-06-14T10:37:00.000-05:00

Ok, so finally got to the Big Apple after an absolutely terrifing moment in the air. Other than that everything has been oddly easy. I literally breezed through security, walked onto the plane, and to my pleasure had a window seat without even asking for one. Which never happens, especially on American Airlines. I seriously dislike that airline, I have had nothing but issues with them since I have started flying. I try not to use the blog to diss corporations, but seriously I would love to sit in one of the training classes for their customer service. I was gung-ho on counting all the smiles and thank-yous I got from their airlines...I swear I got one. Well, the one was from this nice stewardess who was all Chatty Cathy, but turns out she wanted a make-up application. Midflight. Yes, you read right, she wanted me to do her makeup as we were flying over that tropical storm, and literally bouncing all over the eastern seaboard. I though I was in that free fall ride you see at most amusement parks. I honestly never get all freaked out on planes, but this time I was a bit on edge. Everyone around me was practically snorting Zanex off the tray tables. One woman was crying hysterically 3 rows up and the guy ahead of me to my left kept puking in the barf bag. Yes, that bad. I've had 2 emergency landings with AA, and I was expecting this to be lucky number 3. But hey, they had Diet Dr. Pepper and they gave me the whole can so I was appeased.

Anywhatever, I am here and just in my own world. This is a city for the independant. I enjoy so much to be alone sometimes. Then, if I want I can just turn to the person next to me and strike up a conversation. I find it so much cheaper here in NYC, too. Oddly. Miami Beach just literally sucked me dry emotionally and financially. Sure rent is a bit more here, if I want to live in the city, but seriously out of control with how much you save eating out. I found a gym that was 245 bucks for the year. I almost laughed the papaya protein shake right out of my nose. And then proceeded to fall in love with this guy who kept staring at my tattoos. GAWD, he was flawless, and his body was S-I-C-K. I couldn't strike the nerve to ask him if he was a trainer, cause I would shell out big bucks and live on the street again for a body like that. But, I digress.

I went to Governer's Island yesterday before the anti-violence project rally. More on the rally at a later time. Governer's Island until recently was closed off to the general public and was used exclusively as a base and housing for Coast Gaurd, Navy, and the State Department. The only picture my mother ever gave me, one that shows me at 3 or 4 years old was taken here. My father was working for the State Department and enlisted with the Coast Gaurd. I almost threw up once I saw the place we lived. I didn't expect to recognize it, I remeber the view of the Statue of Liberty, and the brown "barrack-y" style of housing. Most of all I remembered the park that was kitty-corner to the house. It looks the same, just well...smaller. These weird memories of getting into trouble kept popping into my head. I supposed these are some off my first memories that were imprinted on my mind, all twinged with darkness. I want to blab away here, but I think it is best to keep these memories to myself. My own little security blanket from my lost youth. Funny, how I can't remember one "I love you".

Son of a Bitch...

2006-06-11T12:36:00.000-05:00

Its less than 48 hours before I jump on a plane and begin a new adventure in New York City. I am just all twitter-patted, butterflies in the tummy running around my apartment here in Miami Beach making sure everything is spik-n-span. I am sooooo stoked to be leaving Miami for many reasons, but one of the top ones would have to be the gosh darned tropical storms. First one of the season hits Florida tomorrow and we have been about a week into the season. I am stoked that New York, dispite at one point being one of the scariest places for me, is going to open up its arms to me. There actually will be a GLBT community where I can help out. I can hold hands with some cutie in Chelsea or West Villiage after a nice date. From what I've heard the men like to date up there in New York. How refreshing! A safe little piece of urban heaven. Then I read this:

A singer whose songs have topped the Billboard dance chart was attacked by a group yelling anti-gay slurs, and four people were arrested on hate-crime charges, police and his publicist said.

Kevin Aviance, 38, underwent surgery for a broken jaw after the attack Saturday, said his publicist, Len Evans. Police said the singer, whose song "Alive" hit the top of the chart in 2002, was in stable condition.

A group of six or seven men attacked Aviance early Saturday, and passers-by did not stop to help as they threw objects at him, Evans said.

Four people were arrested on charges of first-degree assault as a hate crime, police said. They were identified as Jarell Sears and Akino George, both 20; Gregory Archie, 18; and Gerard Johnson, 16.

Aviance performs in drag but was "dressed like a boy" when he was attacked, Evans said. He had planned to take part in next week's Gay Pride parade and festivities, but will now be unable to perform, the publicist said.

Other popular songs by the singer have included "Give It Up," released in 2004, and "Din Da Da," which topped the Billboard dance chart in 1997.

I have had the pleasure of making Mr. Aviance's acquaintance a few times in my life. My heart goes out to him. I wonder how much hope he had that one person in one of those cars wouldn't actually throw something at him, and would help him out. I wonder how angry he is. I will blame this attrocity on the President. I will blame it on the Mary Cheneys, Jerry Falwells, the Pat Robersons, the Pope. I blame the complacent, the ignorant, the weak. I blame the media, the shock jocks, the bible thumpers. I place the blame on these people because they have made it acceptable to continue the blatant hatred for a group of people, to continue the cycle of violence. Thank you sooooo freaking much Mr. President, for putting those words of hate out there for all the younguns to see and expand upon. Thanks.

Social Services...

2006-06-09T11:02:00.000-05:00

As of Monday this week, 652 children from state care have been listed as missing from the Department of Children and Families. Out of the 652, about 175 are from South Florida (Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, Palm Beach etc.). Of those 175, five are listed as "endangered", 11 are believed to be have been abducted by noncustodial parents, and 158 are listed as runaways. None of these statistic list whether the child has been identified GLBT or questioning. So, here is what you can gather from these statistics. 652 human beings are *poof*, gone. Like Bryan Hayes (Jacksonville), 14 years old and his friend Mark Degner, 13. They were both living in a group home, and ran away from the home on Feb. 10th, 2005 . Over a year ago, and they just disappeared. The state assumes that they are still on the street.

You also can gather from the statistics, that if a child has been taken out of the home for neglect or abuse, put into foster care, there is still a good chance that they will be kidnapped out of the foster care situation by the care givers that were originally the ones that had their custodial rights taken away. Meaning...the state puts the kid into foster care, let say the reason being because the mother of the kids put his/her hand to the stove for misbehaving. Said mother has her custodial (parenting) rights taken away. Said mother thinks to herself..."Screw you, you ain't telling me how to raise my kids!" and kidnapps the kid from school, or the front yard of the foster home and disappears. Well, do they actually disappear? Really? They have to get a job. They can't just pop off the map. Right??

I don't know what "endangered" means. I mean I do, I am not an idiot. I don't know what the Department of Children & Families considers "endangered". Why is it in quotes? Is that a way of placating the situation? "...it's bad, but not THAT bad" is what I get from that. That is 5 (only going on the South Florida stats) that they know about. I mean of the 158 runaways, how many of their statuses changed to "endangered". And, wouldn't running away at 13, 15, or 17 still put them in the condition "endangered"? There is also an "pressumed" total not released or talked about. Pressumed meaning dead. Like Rilya Wilson who would be ten in September, who disappeared from her foster home at 5 years old. Her caregiver has been accused of her murder, although no body or clues to where this child is were never found.

So, why do teens/kids feel that there is no other way out of their abusive foster care programs except to run away? How much overhaul does the state run program need to be effective in helping these kids? Man this is one big mess!! I will be speaking with someone at ChrisKids.org soon. Hopefully they will help guide me through this big, horrible mess.

Burn Baby Burn!!

2006-06-07T08:53:00.000-05:00

So, at the risk of sounding trite I wanted to address this whole schpeal about the FMA, that our President has taken to rehash in the public arena. Rumor has it that there is no way in hell that it will pass in the Senate. Then again, we didn't think this warmonger was going to last into his second term. So, that said I will not even begin to address the possibilities of the FMA passing. I just wanted to point out that even if there is limited support, and the majority of the world can see through his b.s. political fodder, he still was very vocal about it. He used his entire radio address to talk about it. He spent 10 minutes on T.V. about it on Monday, and is still talking about it to his fellow policians about it. This is my problem. Even if everyone collectively gives him the finger, those words are out there. Those statements about activist judges, is still out there. There ARE people listening. There ARE people who are ignorant enough to believe that he is correct. There ARE people who will vote in a new breed of Neo-Conservative just based on this issue. That's it. There are people who could care less about them rag heads in the Middle East, the homelessness, the utter lack of affordable healthcare, them black people in the Dafur region, them Israelis killing Palestinians, or any other humanist points. If it says so in the good book that gays are bad, and our President of Our Great Nation says he wants to alienate 10% of the population, then by golly lets say a prayer for him and his causes. Not sure if ol' Gorgie Pie has actually taken a look at that tattered document recently, but somewhere in there is a point about the separation of church and state. When sworn into office he promised to uphold that document and all that it stood for. How do we think he is doing so far with that...hmmmm?

Oh yeah, little side note. Anyone know where that bitch Mary Cheney is hiding out? Maybe where her next book signing may be? That traitor is a disgrace to her people, and someone needs to take the toaster, the rainbow flag, and the handbook away from her. She is freaking clueless and it won't be until they are transporting her LESBIAN ass to the detention center duly named for her father, when she will realize she is a sell out. The Dick Cheney Detention Center for the Sexual Degenerates (a Haliburton Subsidiary)

Le Sigh...

2006-06-06T11:38:00.000-05:00

I jumped in the ocean at 6:12 am. I floated on the calm sea staring at the pink and orange beginings of a new day. Watched the homeless men and women pack up their sleeping mats of dirty card board and stashing them underneath life gaurd stands. Stared at the tiny explosions of light on that inviting azure sea. My thoughts were all jumbled up. I snicker at my paranoid thoughts of huge sharks gobbling me up as I let the gentle movement of the sea rock me into a new morning. Or mourning. I get frustrated at this one piece of seaweed that keeps brushing up on my arm. I dislike that prickly attention-getting ecosystem that just doesn't want to move on. The water is like tepid bathwater. My thoughts are still all jumbled up. Why did I get so angry last night. Why didn't I just break down and throw a good old fashioned tantrum? Why did I excuse myself from a conversation with wonderful people to collect my tears brimming on the edge. What were those tears? Angry ones, sad ones, frustrated ones? Why didn't I just let go? Why is that damned seagull screaching like that??? Go away bird, I am trying to enjoy...my jumbled up thoughts.

Shelter Number One...

2006-06-04T20:28:00.000-05:00

Ali Forney was a homeless transgendered teen forced to live on the streets of New York in 1990's. Ali was dedicated to the safety of other homeless queer youth, a committed HIV prevention worker (he bragged about being HIV negative), and aggressively advocated that the NYPD investigate a series of murders of homeless queer youth that he had befriended. In December of 1997, Ali was murdered on the streets. His murderer has never been identified. He was 21.

I contacted the center that was named for him this weekend. I wanted to know some facts about them aside what I could find on the website. I chatted briefly with Carl Siciliano the executive director of the Ali Forney Center. He has no cases of prosecution, or statistics he could refer to. This was his reply in regards to my question:

"When we encounter someone under the age of 18 who is not in the care of their parents we notify the New York State office of Children and Family Services. If parents are found to be neglecting or abusing their kids it can result in legal consequences including the placement of their other children in the foster care." -- Carl Siciliano

It can? Can result? What about does result? Do these children's dead beaten bodies actually have to be removed from the home before ANYONE is held accountable?? Mr. Siciliano and those youth shouldn't have to cross their fingers that something will be done. Mr. Siciliano shouldn't have to call in every favor he can just to get some celebrity to show up at his fund raising event to support the home and foundation he cares for. The money should be pouring in. Oh and read this little outdated statistic:

From 1995 to 1997, the [N.Y.] Department of Youth and Community Development failed to spend nearly $1 million it had budgeted for housing for homeless youths, which resulted in a loss of an additional $1.5 million in matching funds from the state. The department says it will leave $450,000 unspent in 1998, because shelters are unpopular with neighborhoods. --The New York Times

There is currently estimated 12,000 to 20,000 homeless youth on the street in New York City. That is a shit load of kids scrounging for food in dumpsters, sleeping on subway trains, trickin' on Coney Island, smokin' $5-$10 vials of crack in back alleys, that is gotta be...what...lets say 100,ooo tears shed by them in fear, self pity, doubt, lack of faith, dispair? How many of those have been shot dead, their killers never found? I am freaking lucky, tell you what.

Ali Forney Center for Homless GLBT Youth:
Our mission is to help homeless LGBT youth be safe and become independent as they move from adolescence to adulthood. Too many of these youth are rejected by their families and the broader community, and are thus forced to survive on the streets, facing the dangers of violence, HIV infection and homophobia. AFC is committed to providing homeless LGBT youth with the services they need to thrive, including shelter, HIV prevention and vocational training.
(there are currently only 18 beds at the AFC...they hope to have 24 by the end of the year)

www.aliforneycenter.org Hit up the website, donate even if it is canned food...they need it!

And the Challenge Begins...

2006-06-04T13:55:00.000-05:00

Alrighty, lets begin. Step one was to contact legal services at Lambda Legal dot Org. Pose the question and just sit back; go surfing...have a beer, and have all the millions of statistics, case studies, or profiles land on my lap. I must have had a flashback from my partying days 'cause I was high as a mofo to think it was that easy. I was contacted yesterday by a wonderful woman in the Southeastern Division of Lambda Legal named Nancy and we chatted away like a couple o' school girls. They had no cases that they actively pursued in the prosecution of parents. None. What losers! Ha-haaa, kidding of course. Nor did they have statistics of this scenario, or knew of anyone that was taking the initiative to do so. She wasn't sure if child welfare services throughout the country singled out gay youth and treated those cases differently. She did say that they work closely with an organization called the Child Welfare League of America in attempting to place abandoned kids into foster care. She would like me to keep in contact with her about what I discover once I contact my other leads. She did say that Lambda Legal would be interested in backing me (us?) once we figured out what the hell we wanted to do. She wondered if I was planning to use my story to become the catalyst. I immediately said no, but maybe I jumped the gun a little. I would figure that most of America wouldn't really care about a past case. People like tangency and have to have it NOW! So, I would think a face someone can identify with currently being alienated would be better, right? I dunno, I have to think about that a bit more.
So, Nancy gave me more leads and suggestions. She assured me that what we (queer podcasters, bloggers, and vloggers) are going to be the new wave of activism. We will be allowed to fight and get the word out without the FCC breathing down our back, or the outside influence of advertising. She is glad not everyone out there is complacent.
So, if you aren't familiar with Lambda Legal, please check it out. I am going to go as far to say you should donate to them instead of HRC who, although do some great work, have big party fundraising and PR people working for them all the time. L.L. has been quietly fighting for our rights as human beings, without asking for applause or a kiss on the cheek. They have so much work to do, especially with our elected officials wanting to impose their bigoted beliefs into the constitution. Read up on them. Put links on your own blogs. They are there for us, if and when we need them.

A Stern Begining...

2006-06-04T12:07:00.000-05:00

This picture was taken by Kelly Stern in good ol' boy Richmond, Virginia. Right at the first hole in the Bible Belt. He has a lovely manicured front lawn, don't he?? Well Mr. Stern posted this picture on his blog and suggested that the bloggersphere do the same to show some solidarity. I heard about it on The Krebs Cycle (another blog/podcast I have grown to enjoy) and thought, what the heck. Why not. I know there are some people out there who don't want to rock the boat. Those who live in fear and would not like to draw attention to themselves. People who are just hoping that if they become invisible or unobtrusive that the country will see them (the GLBT community) as a "non-threat" and appease us by giving us some rights. Bitches, that ain't happening. On the eve of our President's intended State of the Union address where he plans to let the world know that he will be pushing for a constitutional amendment that write discrimination/oppression/hate into our wonderful Constitution, we need to wake up. Period. I am not saying that we all need to be flag twirling sistas' but if just posting this one picture on your blog, vlog, podcast shows that you stand by those who will be vocal in their fight for your rights then please, go visit kellystern.blogspot.com and get the picture. Give him credit, and give yourself a little glimmer of hope. Peace out my brothas' and sistas'!!

Back Again...

2006-06-01T23:43:00.000-05:00

I apologize for the grammatical catastrophe I am about to make with the following post:

So yeah, took a break. Had some things going on like trying to move, making sure it was the right move blah, blah, blah. I wrote of course, just for me. I do what I want, right? Right? I did create, mind you. I can't let myself go to hell in a hand basket now can I? I had the pleasure of speaking with Brad from the Willing Warrior this evening about some things I have went through during my brief stay on Ol' Momma Earth. I was a bit flustered to tell you the truth, speaking so candidly about a part of my history for potentially a few people that I may or may not encounter, with someone I admire for what he has grown into. Not so much being afraid of judgment from people, cause frankly you can bite me if you don't like my choices. More-so, I hope the point I am trying to work on, not necessarily make was conveyed.

So, in essence my voice on this blog has changed because of Brad and my brief conversation. A question was raised in our talk, one that I have been juggling for a while. Since I decided to pose it to myself, being the Curious Curtis that I am I had to get answers. It was too complex of a problem to let slide. And, because I have chosen to start turning up the fire under my burner I can't let it go. The question was this: If the thought of turning a child away, in essence , disowning them because the are gay, lesbian, transgendered, or bisexual is such a horrible thing why aren't these parents being prosecuted/charged for child abandonment or neglect. If a parents responsibility is with that child until they are 18, why aren't these responsibilities enforced?
Then more questions arose from this initial question arose. Many. I mean tons. Like, if these kids are well rounded otherwise (good grades, potential for success etc.) why has it been considered ok to kick them out? Is it the stigma attached with having a gay kid? Is it religion? Or how about law enforcement? What are they doing to help the kids they may pick up on the street? Do they contact the parents? Do they let them know of their responsibilities? What about money for prosecution? When the enforcement of the law comes into play for these youth, I would have to imagine the case load would increase. How about social services? We all know that shit hole of a system needs to be overhauled and restructured? Where do they get money for that? Do they set money aside to accommodate GLTB youth? What about our own people, when do they stand up and realize the kids are the future of our movement? Many, many questions. Overall consensus on my part? Something needs to be done. Period. We need a base to start from. We need to work on our community, work from within. Make ourselves strong. That way we don't need to water ourselves down, make us mainstream. Since when did taking away our individuality become the norm to gaining our rights, which is about freaking time we get.
So, in closing of this atrocity of a rambling diarrhea of thought I have realized that I still need to work on some things in myself. I realize that I can't just hope things are gonna work themselves out. Life isn't that simple unfortunately. If they were I would be writing about how tight my ass is looking lately. Glad to be back.

www.willingwarrior.com

Oy Vey...

2006-04-01T20:22:00.000-05:00

This is a GPS photograph from the boat that I was on today for a shoot. Notice in the upper right corner that is in a square stating "Dump Site". When I asked the captain what that meant, he told me that is where a lot of waste (human or otherwise) from the city of Miami goes. That's right, a huge dump zone for waste in about 600 feet of water very close to the Gulf stream. Apparently it is either put in large steel containers or concrete and just dumped overboard. Is it any wonder why the north part of Bicayne Bay is on the EPA's watch list because of the massive amounts of polution including but not limited to mercury, arsenic, and fecal waste?
This is an overview of the shoot from atop the boat. I was going to jump in the bay and enjoy a nice swim until I saw the GPS monitor. This after spending a few days in a beautiful and uncontaminated country that takes pride in its preservation of its rivers, lakes and ocean. This dump zone is apparently one of 20 along the eastern seaboard. Yippy!! Down with Earth! There is no such thing as global warming.

Bliss...

2006-04-01T18:45:00.000-05:00

I just got back from a job in Costa Rica for Glamour Magazine. I am in such a calm state of mind right now, it was so beautiful. We stayed in Manuel Antonio and Quepos on the Pacific side of the country. In this area the encroachment of the American companies such as Walmart, Starbucks, and McDonalds wasn't exsitant. However, in the capital San Jose, these such companies are everywhere. For example, in the airport there was a Popeye's Chicken, Starbucks, Cinnabon, Dunkin Donuts, etc. Clearly the starting point for the massive tourist groups that load up their busses and take the masses to the resorts set up by American corporations. Thankfully we worked in a relatively pristine area filled with rainforests and gorgeous beaches. It was amazing to see large amounts of expats from France, Spain, Germany, Australia, and America here living in conjunction with the Earth completely content in the lifestyle present here. No T.V., no phone, no internet access unless you sought it out. It is amazing how quickly you become adjusted to this.
This picture was taken in a national park during our lunch break. This cove was surrounded by mountains and the water was like bathwater. A little further out to the left was a great surfing spot, a little dangerous with huge rocks, but great breaks.
Orchids grew wild everywhere!! This one was right off of my balcony hanging down from a tree that smelled like maple syrup. Never found out the name of that tree, but it provided a huge canopy of shade.

This shot is right before we landed in Manuel Antonio, about 20 miles from the volcanoes. I was freaking out because I couldn't see any place for the puddle jumper I flew in to land. I mean FREAKING OUT!
The puddle jumper. Not sure if I am going take that again when I go back. I will probably just drive, because talk about turbulance! Very nerve racking when we flew over the volcanoes, in a rain storm at 7 thousand feet. The pilots were joking in Spanish with each other about "the rollercoaster ride". I wasn't amused. At all.
I couldn't complain about the plane for more than five minutes because when I walked the one block to the beach and saw this view at sunset, I literally burst into tears. I sat on that beach for hours, and later joined a group of surfers along with the crew I came with, having a bonfire. They were such a great, welcoming group of people. My faith in the human race was bolstered a bit more on this trip.

And Then...

2006-03-27T04:04:00.000-05:00

So, here is Tracie Wright and Valeska. Two of the models that I did makeup on for the Heatherette fashion show during the Funksion Fashion Week here in Miami Beach last week. The look was an updated Debbie Harry, and we had to do 35 models in about an hour. Talk about insane and crazy backstage. I nearly passed out that day because there was 6 shows and 70 models and only 5 of us makeup artists. I drank like a fish that night.
Here is Marc Sinoway. Totaly cool cat. In the background doing hair is the Argentinian crazy Diego. Rockstar with hair!
Todd and Richie Rich. Todd was the key hair artist on the Hetherette show. He is going to go to town on my hair soon. I am excited because he is has been dying to cut it, and it will be rockstar by my birthday. Yippie!
I loved this look. I was a little pissed at my assistant for doing the makeup like this though. She was waaaaay too heavy handed, and not really the makeup look we wanted but whatever. I had no time to double check until the last possible second. What can you do? Still loved the look.

My Kids the Genetic Freaks...

2006-03-24T11:31:00.000-05:00

These are my kids. I say kids because they I feel so old when I am around them. Kidding, I actually give them a run for their money sometimes. Its fashion week here in Miami Beach and I have been working my butt off doing makeup for so various shows. The above picture is Ackee and Clay, two of the most well rounded models I have ever met. Great people to work with. Clay and I met on a recent Bruce Webber shoot for Italian Vogue and just landed the new Dolce campaign. He will be shooting with Stephen Misel next week. Ackee is a beauty I started working with at the begining of the season. Since then her and I have been shooting together constantly. I see a huge future for her too. (above show is Phat Farm)

So let me break down the images. First one with Dominique (rosey cheeks) is for the show Cardiac which are amazing up and coming designers. Their names are Darrin McWhorter and Kristopher Hegland. Check them out at www. cardiacdesign.com Dominique also did FILA last night and Phat Farm on Wednesday.

Second and third. Helen and Marcus. Both for Ted Baker which I must admit has amazing clothes. Like, I think total shopping spree coming on. Helen also did Cardiac, and I wish I snapped a shot of her makeup for that because it was badass too. Marcus is from Sweden, a total charmer and badass hair. I am actually going to cut my hair like that in a couple of days, that is really why I took the picture. Well that, and he is totally gorgeous.

I Don't Wanna...

2006-03-22T11:55:00.000-05:00

I took every ounce of strength to get my lazy butt up this morning. I soooo wanted to stay all snuggy poo in my goose down comforter and dream about utopia. Then my phone started ringing and everyone and their mother needed something from me. Damn you world!! Can't I just have an lazy day? Grrrrr, apparently I have some Baby Phat fashion show I am supposed to be the key makeup artist on today that I completely forgot about. Great...there goes a perfectly good wasted day.

Ummm thanks...

2006-03-22T00:04:00.000-05:00

This is Mr. Magillacutty's friend Rosco the Raccoon. Li'l Pony introduced him to me. We got along fine until he smelled the $40 Indian spiced grilled pork chop I ate for dinner with my dad and then he tried to rip my throat out. Bad raccoon! Mr. Magillacutty is appalled at his behavior but again he has been electrocuted a couple of times from the electrical lines he crosses to go to Li'l Pony's house so he couldn't tell you what is up or down. Poor little iguana. There is no such thing as global warming! So what if Rosco is a big as a house wife from Wisconsin, he shouldn't have been going into the garbage on Michigan Avenue. Bad raccoon!

...And Scene

2006-03-21T11:12:00.001-05:00

That's it. I am done. Kaputt. Before this city becomes the death of me, or before I become the death bringer to someone in this city I have to leave. I will be leaving screaming at the top of my lungs, half naked, and with streams of mascara running down my face. I don't wear makeup but you get the point of my near insanity if I lay it out that way. I am a pacifist, but it took 90 minutes of yoga, a conversation with Li'l Pony, the movies "A Constant Gardener" and "Fight Club", and an organic baby spinach salad with chipotle buttermilk ranch dressing to placate the rage that I had boiling in me. It takes a lot to make me flip out and it has to build up, but I'll be damned if the people in this city didn't manage to get me there in a weekend. Friday through Monday people in the service industry, a client, and fellow artists took advantage of my laid back non-confrontational attitude and walked all over me. I let them get away with it which is why I think I became more upset day by day. I usually fight back; especially for the underdog, but when it comes to myself sometimes I give into the defeatist attitude hoping not to rock the boat. It ALWAYS backfires, and then I end up spending days beating myself up trying to figure out what went wrong. Grrrrr! I am over it now, but I am still disappointed in my fellow human beings.

Before anyone goes commenting on how there are people like this in every city, let me explain that Miami Beach/Miami seems to have a higher concentration of shady, lazy, and complacent people. I can't understand why a city that is know for tourism and parties has the most deplorable and unprofessional service industry in the ENTIRE WORLD! Yes, I said it. The world. I've been all over the world and Miami Beach needs to have a sitcom based on the shit that goes on in restaurants, bars, and retail and what these employees actually get away with. I have been living here off and on for 4 years after being away for 10 and I haven't seen a touch of improvement. From the under poured 12 dollar drinks in practically every establishment, to the unsanitary preparation of the food, I am surprised I haven't gone postal at some restaurant and stabbed a couple of servers with a fork. I have a list of restaurants where I have been sickened by their food. One of the restaurants has given me a stomach virus 4 times, swear to you! My letters to the Miami Beach Chamber of Commerce are probably used to pick up dog poop in Flamingo Park. What is with the velvet rope policy at practically every establishment in this city? I've learned that if I want to go out to a club I need to bring 57 models, or strippers to even get noticed at the ropes even though I will most likely drop a couple hundred bucks on drinks. I should get a beejer with that. Sunday was the final straw. Picture it, breakfast at one of the trendy eateries that I know will take about an hour and half out of my day. I am prepared for this, I mean its Sunday, a day of R&R right? The server took 35 minutes to come to our table to get our DRINK order. Another 15 to get us our coffee and mimosas. We saw the server twice throughout the entire meal which took about 2 ours to serve, clean up, and hand over the final bill. At one point I had to go into the restaurant to look for the skank for some more coffee and napkins. Yeah, the hostess was about as bright as a postage stamp so I had to do it myself. On that final bill there was a 19% tip (service) charge included which I took as a suggestion, because I reduced it to 15% although the skank deserved like a penny. I am bitter, but not cruel. We left, and I shit you not, the serve CAME AFTER US! A block down the road the little hussy runs up to us to tell us that tipping is mandatory. I informed the skank that so was service, and I felt that 15% was generous considering it was pretty much a self service kind of meal. The server ROLLED its beady little eyes and stormed off! The nerve of that skank, so I went back to the restaurant, one that I have visited many times to suggest to the manager that some of their employees could use some sensitivity training. I never raised my voice, and I did the conversation to the side as to not create a scene. He told me that due to inflation, 18% is the new industry standard and I should be more understanding of the server who is "just doing their job". WHAT?!! Oh Gawd, my heart is jumping I need to walk away from this one like I did on Sunday.

As for the client and the fellow artists. Well, I am usually the first one people call a 7:00 am if their makeup artist doesn't show up, or I will take shit jobs because I was once on the bottom rung of the ladder in the fashion industry and I think it is good karma to give back to people who could use the help. I don't have to make 1k a day on every job, I am proud to say, because I love my work. However, Miami doesn't get the greatest reputation in the fashion world because of its notoriety for having people here that either want you to work for free or claim the project is more that it is. All fluff and no substance. I had to learn how to do hair because it would guarantee that I would make more money. Clients lie all the time to get the better artists which is good business practice I guess, but bad karma. Don't tell my agent that the job is for a major retailer but for local advertisement, and when I show up have it be for some local designer who is wanting to develop their web page, and look book for their clothing line in the hopes of selling to said major retailer. When you lie like that my rates change, and what I should be getting for this kind of work is vastly different from what you projected to my agent. On top of that, it is sooooo unprofessional and just plain cheap to cram a three day shoot into one. Also, do not talk down to me as if I should be honored to be in some shit hole studio in some warehouse district near the airport after I was misled into believing my work would be valued. You can't expect me to be this chipper disco queen when you have 400 shots (yes, that was 400) planned and the breakfast you provide is a bucket full of croissants from Costco or the lunch you provide is bags full of chips and a Publix deli sandwich wheel that has been sitting in the fridge for a couple of days. I can understand a small budget, but please inform me of this before I get there so I don't feel taken advantage of so I can make the economic decision as to whether it would be to my benefit to take the job. On top of all that, don't expect me to stay 2 hours overtime without the consideration of asking me. This was all day Friday. I tried my hardest not to walk out, I call my agent a million times, and she felt that I shouldn't leave either. So I took it. All of it without lube. Monday rolls around, and the producer tells my agent that I was the most unprofessional artist that she ever encountered. Apparently, I didn't speak or was my usual self as I had been, and the client was "scared" to ask me to do anything. Apparently out of the 400 shots 53 had too much shine on the forehead. Apparently the client was upset about the fact I chose not to do makeup on her and I focused on the models. Apparently the client was upset that I didn't want to stick around after the shoot (already 2 hours overtime). Apparently my agent didn't do shit to defend my reputation and did not voice my concerns over the fact I felt I was taken advantage of, misled, and underpaid. I have never received a complaint in all of the time I have been in this industry, not one. I have taken pride in my ability to take the lumps and brush them off. This Miami designer got a 3 day shoot, with a stellar artist for 11 hours (15 minutes lunch) with two models (makeup and hair), 300 changes, no overtime fees, no kit fees and no transportation reimbursement for the wonderful price of $400 minus 20% agency fee. Uggg, my stomach is in knots right now. I have to let it go.

Ok, so I am done with this city. Done. Wow, that was so nice to vent out. I am hungry now.

Beating a Dead Horse...

2006-03-21T10:20:00.000-05:00

The scientists and meteorologists are saying one of the most powerful cyclones to hit Australia in decades lashed the northern city of Cairns on Monday with winds of up to 290 kph (180 mph), ripping roofs off houses, uprooting trees and flattening crops. What liars and fakers. Clearly they aren't on board with the petroleum companies in denying the enviromental holocaust and are clearly trying to get on tv. Clearly no one cares about you tree hugging bastards and granola lesbians so shut up so I can continue to throw my cigarette butts and used baby diapers anywhere I please without having to deal with the guilt trip. Thanks! Down with Earth!!

Get Yourself One Too...

2006-03-20T11:43:00.000-05:00

This is Drew and Derek Riker. I consider them the best allies for the gay movement ever! Well, at least the best ones that I have encountered and consider close friends. Case in point, during the most recent national election Drew and Derek registered to vote in Florida (they live in New York) because they new that every vote here counted. Florida as you now know has been considered a swing state in the last couple of elections, and is considered part of the Bible Belt so pretty much Republican. I think the only precinct in Florida that voted majority Democrat would be Miami-Dade, and the twins did a great job campaigning and encouraging others to vote Democrat here, including their parents who in the past voted Republican. They were appalled that Bush ran on the campaign of hate, prejudice, and fear. They saw through the b.s. quicker than most. If anyone is an advocate for gays and lesbians to get the same benefits as straight couples in regards to marriage, it would be them. If anyone feels that gays and lesbians should be protected under federal hate crime statures, it would be them. They scoff at people who raise an eyebrow at their openness to protect and befriend us, not because they are "comfortable with their sexuality" but because they are humanists. They don't understand why people find the need to hate us just because we are genetically disposed to fall in love with someone of the same gender.

There are some gays and lesbians trying to decide "where" to become an activist in the gay movement because there is no definitive starting point. Our "community"(and I use that term loosely) is so disconnected and lost and it needs help all around. Yet, there are many who know we have to do something, and are doing their best to educate and validate us. I hear their frustrations in their words, vlogs, and podcasts. I think we need to start from scratch. Deconstruct the movement down to the barest essentials, the necessaries. The question is with whom do we do that? It is in my opinion that seeds of change will not occur unless we solidify the bridges to our future. The young gays and lesbians that will be our next voices and the straight allies that will do the fighting alongside us. We need to break down the ageism barriers that generate those horrible labels like "twink", "daddy", "butch", and "fem". We need to have some self respect in ourselves. We need to convince our straight friends to speak up louder for our rights, to inform the close minded that we are just as important, special, talented, caring, faithful, reasonable, rational, honest, sincere, and HUMAN. People like Drew and Derek. Maybe I am describing one of your friends. If not, go out and find one! Just remember to thank them when they win a battle. I cannot thank Drew and Derek enough. I want to thank more.

Put a Muzzle On That Thing...

2006-03-16T13:10:00.000-05:00

Here we go again ladies and gentlemen of the United States of America. Our elected leader, President Bush has reaffirmed that he is willing to be preemptive in the use of force against Iran. Just like he did with Iraq, the words "terrorist organization", "weapons of mass destruction" doted his speech in a 49 page National Security Report "When the consequences of an attack with weapons of mass destruction are potentially so devastating, we cannot afford to stand idly by as a grave dangers materialize. ...The place of pre-emption in our national security strategy remain the same." Without providing proof he accused the Islamic REPUBLIC of supporting terrorists, threatening Israel and disrupting democratic reform in Iraq, and developing nuclear weapons. Uh huh. Really? Hmmm, the model of democratic reform that Bush so upholds? The one that supports secret black-ops prisons throughout the world, where they torture and kill in the name of Democracy? Well, before I go on a rant let me give some history on Iran for those who are not familiar with the largest country in the Middle East.

With a 5,000 year old history, Iran was known as Persia until 1935 and became a Islamic Republic in 1979 after the ruling shah was forced into exile. More on that later. The country is full of natural beauty and is full of ancient ruins, mosques and first-class museums and its people are hardworking and outwardly friendly. The country is rich in natural gas and petroleum resources. The light bulb should have went off on that last sentence. In 1951 Iran's Parliament voted to nationalize the oil industry, much to the dismay of Great Britain which held control over the oil fields throughout W.W.II, and by 1953 the Central Intelligence Agency had its first successful overthrow of a foreign government. Orchestrated by Dr. Donald N. Wilber (a gentlemen's spy) and approved by President Eisenhower, they placed in power Mohammed Reza Shah Pahlavi, someone by the way whom the CIA had total and complete contempt for. Shah Pahlavi ruled with an iron fist for 26 years until he was overthrown and forced into exile. Iran then became an Islamic Republic, backed by a generation of anti-American hatred. Hey, we brought it on ourselves folks. In September on 1980 Iraq invaded Iran thinking it was weak in the process of reforming the country and government. It was wrong, and this mistake led to 8 years of war between the two countries. It might be interesting to note, that in 1983, Donald Rumsfeld-part of an envoy sent by then President Reagan- agreed to provide Iraq with chemical and biological weapons. (See above photo) These weapons were used continuously against the Persians and eventually against the Kurds. These are the same weapons President Bush claims Saddam planned to use against America, and were his justification for going to war with him. Funny huh? So, there was no decisive winner in 1988 when both Iran and Iraq declared peace, but then again left another generation of anti-American sentiment. However, the oil and natural gas was never relinquished to foreign control.

Back to present. So since 1953, America has played a part in Iranian politics leading to 2 oppressive regimes and yet has not controlled the oil. It has done the same thing with Guatemala, Chile and Argentina resulting in tons on anti-American sentiment and creating hostile situations in many regions of the world. Iran, might I add, did attack American interest in Tehran. The U.S. Embassy to be exact, and took hostages claiming they had discovered a "nest of spies" who were secretly undermining the political process of Iran. No one believed them. Granted I don't feel that violence begets violence, however in retrospect of recent documents coming to light showing America had a part of the shah dictator coming to power, I would have to state that the Persians were defending themselves. They continue to do so. Now, our country is not taking the back door approach to control of oil interests. Its leader is declaring outright aggression without black and white proof of any attempts to attack us on our soil, without any proof that Iranians have had any part of undermining our society by infiltrating our government, without any proof that have been able to obtain materials to make a nuclear weapon. More death. More destruction. More anti-American sentiment.

I am sick to my stomach. I am sick, because people are letting him and his cronies get away with this. The Iranians have stated that they are open to talks, offered to let the Russians develop their nuclear power program, and we have ignored them. The people are scared, but the people will defend themselves. They have been doing it for over 50 years. All in the name of democracy, all in the name of righteousness does this government take pride in establishing coups and wars. I think he has gone to far, and if we let him do it we are just as bad as he is. Someone asked me what I have done to protest the war in Iraq recently, and was shocked to hear that I gladly gave up my car and opt to take public transportation or a car service when I need to. That made me laugh, because he thought I was all hot air. Why should I pay for gas and oil when kids are getting blown to bits for our right to do so? Why should I give my money to insurance companies when they keep coming up with excused to raise their rates. What have you done? If our Congress and Senate allow us to go to war with Iran, without proof of aggression, what will I be able to do to protest that? Marching gets ignored. I am open to suggestions, anything that will help me get over this shame.

What an Amazing Day...

2006-03-16T12:09:00.000-05:00

...the sun is shining, the air smells clean and fresh, the birds are all twitterpated with the hint of spring in the air. I jumped into the bay this morning and just felt super close to Momma Earth, there were even a couple of manatee near my dock. Ahhhh, I might as well enjoy it now because soon the bay will be toxic, the sun will be covered in smog and the air will burn my nostrils. I wouldn't be shocked if some of those birds have started mutating already and have fangs. But it was still a nice way to wake up.

Be Quiet, Sandy!

2006-03-16T09:44:00.000-05:00

"It takes a lot of degeneration before a country falls into dictatorship, but we should avoid these ends by avoiding these beginnings."--former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor

Oh shut up you old bat. You can't act like the Monday morning Quarterback when you have stated in the past that you would retire when a conservative Republican was elected to office. You have seen the general encroachment of the Religious Right into American politics back when Clinton was in office, hell a cracked out raving lunatic could have seen that coming. You retired this year, at the ripe old age of 75, to spend more time with your grand kids and family. Cool, I am all for the family values. However, do you think that maybe you could have retired when you were 69 or 70, giving the PEOPLE of the UNITED STATES of AMERICA a chance for another Supreme Court Justice that would carry on your tradition of being the swing vote in substantial cases such as abortion, gay rights, and civil liberties? You can't fake ignorance now, when the signs have been so obvious nor can you take the high road of moral aptitude. This speech you gave the other day should have been done years ago around the time the President was trying to convince the world that invading Iraq was the correct thing to do. Cute little quotes like; "We must be ever-vigilant against those who would strong arm the judiciary" would have carried a tad bit more weight in the eyes of the world. I guess you thought that making this speech now, in front of corporate lawyers, you would get a nice pat on the back and a big hug for being so strong by standing up against the current regime. Oh puh-lease, more respect would have been commanded even if you had done it last year. I end with this..."Statutes and constitutions do not protect judicial independence-people do," O'Connor stated. Riiiight, next time practice what you preach woman, you might get my respect back.

Oh Yeah, and Another Thing...

2006-03-14T17:36:00.000-05:00

Boo hoo, I got pink eye AGAIN. Today when I woke up, I literally felt like Helen Keller. Except I could hear. And talk. Well bad analogy but you get the point. Try typing and blinking through all this yucky stuff in my eyes and see how bitter you get. I mean maybe having a stalker isn't a bad thing...I can turn him into my errand boy. I need some Matzoh Ball soup, stalker boy. Go fetch! I need a pint of Hagen Daas Dulce De Leche ice cream, stalker boy. Chop, Chop! Hmmmm, I may have to rethink my former posting. In the mean time, I am going to wallow in my own yuckyness, go to bed early and dream of white picket fences with my gorgeous (totally committed and faithful)Brazilian husband tending the yard with our two kids and domesticated wolf. Yeah, I said domesticated wolf. Timber to be exact. I'm cool like that.

To My Dear, Dear Stalker

2006-03-14T17:10:00.000-05:00

Dear Creepy Stalker (a.k.a. Thierry),
Ok, it has got to stop. Last night was the final straw. When my friends and I need to leave an establishment because you are creeping everyone out with your incessant staring, it is a clue to me that your ridiculous obsession has gone to far. I mean, I haven't felt that much concern for my safety and well being since I was living on the street. 911 was just a "1" away, and had you followed us out I would have pushed it, granted since there is no anti-stalking laws in Florida it would have been in vain. I don't even know how you got my phone number, but if it wasn't a clue that I wouldn't pick up the phone after the 12th time in a day, for 2 months straight than even speaking to you in your native tongue isn't gonna help. I especially love the drunken messages at 3 am on a Tuesday, where you tell me that you hope I have a wonderful life being a dirty American whore. Classy. Thanks for that.

Since I cannot confront you in person, that will probably just encourage you more, I am writing this little note on my blog. I mean, you already have a boyfriend. Why don't you stalk him? Or have you chopped him up into tiny pieces and put him in the freezer? I don't understand what I am supposed to do with this stalking thing, but I don't like my buttons pushed and you are getting a little too close to my personal cushion of security. Like I mentioned before I lived on the streets, and I learned to fight on the streets so keep messing with me and see where it gets you. Don't make me go ghetto on your ass, Frenchy! I will be the last one standing. Bitch.

Hugs and kisses,
the Sherpa of the Banality
(a.k.a. Joshua-Myles)

I Love My Job...

2006-03-13T18:18:00.000-05:00

I did the grooming for the guys in the current issue of OUT Magazine for the cover and the six page fashion spread inside. Doug Ordway shot it and the models are Clint and Nicolas. I can never complain about my job when I get to do stuff like this. Creepy side note: On the day this story was shot, and a couple blocks down from where we were shooting, a Chalks Seaplane blew up in mid air and crashed thirty feet from the beach. 22 people died that day.

No Scientific Evidence...

2006-03-11T11:09:00.000-05:00

Part of a conversation last night with a devout Republican that I consider an acquaintance: "There has been no substantial documented evidence that there is global warming, and environmentalists are this generation's 'snake-oil salesmen' who mislead the public." Really? Explain to me why 16 times this year my entire block has been under at least a foot of water, especially during high tide. Miami Beach officials claim it is because the Southern Hemisphere has experienced abnormally high tides this year, and because there is an eclipse and there is nothing they can do. They had no explanation as to why there is no other documented cases in any year from 1920's onward of this such phenomenon. My block doesn't flood during intense rain in case you were wondering. I live on the bayside of Miami Beach by the way, remember there is too much garbage on the beach side. The picture above is in front of my building during high tide yesterday, the 16th day this year this has happened.

Domenici Says No Global Warming Legislation This Session
Congress Daily PM March 6, 2006
Senate Energy and Natural Resources Chairman Domenici said today climate change legislation will not come out of his committee this year. Domenici said he and Energy and Natural Resources ranking member Jeff Bingaman, D-N.M., are negotiating a bill that would require reductions in greenhouse gas emissions, but the two are "nowhere close to a way to do that," he said, adding, "Frankly, I don't know how to write it, and I don't think anybody does." Lawmakers are divided over whether a climate change bill should include regulation of carbon dioxide, along with other pollutants. The committee will hold a climate change forum April 4 to hear experts on the issue, but it is not likely to result in legislation. "There will be no climate change legislation coming out of my committee this year," Domenici told reporters.

Revisted...

2006-03-10T14:20:00.000-05:00

I just went over my post about feeling alone. Well, I am a bit surprised at the pity party I gave myself. When I write, I just go for it press the spell check button and post without editing. I often don't read what I write until a few hours or days later. So, in that aspect I am trying to see where I where I was coming from when I wrote that piece. I see defeatism. An emotion/action easily absorbed when the individual's surrounding environment consists of this negativity which sometimes disguises itself as pacifism. Usually the correct path to take in life is the hardest one. It is so much easier to throw in the towel and join the masses because then you belong to a group. I definitely see a lot of this defeatist attitude running rampant in this country in my words and I am not proud of this. Well, pride is something that can cloud an individual's judgment as well. I see much pride in my words too. These are a few traits I inherited from my mother, that I try everyday to suppress. She was one of these people that felt that everything should be handed to them on a bejeweled platter of gold and silver. I believe she is still waiting for that gift of freedom from the everyday banality. She will wait until the last possible moment before she realizes it was all in vain. She gave up too easily, she felt she was better than everyone else because of her beauty and talent and didn't have to work hard everyday to feel alive and validated. Pride/Defeat, they go hand in hand don't they?

So I have to break down why I am feeling defeated. I can safely say now I do not feel alone or unloved. Sure, I won't deny that I still want that unconditional love from a partner. Who the hell doesn't. Relationships are just as hard as being single. I am a bit of a hopeless romantic, so with my ever dreamy ways the Knight in Shining Armor seems to be a couple of Kingdoms away. Back burner that one. The pot that is boiling over is the most pressing. Hmmmm, can it be all this talk of torture, kidnapping, abuse and murder committed by our government in the name of Religion, Democracy, and the Republic throughout the Middle East be it? Nahhh, how can that be? We have gay, lesbian, and transgendered teens tortured, kidnapped, abused and murdered daily in my city, state, and country EVERY day for the last couple of decades. This is where I begin taking on the problems of the world as my own. Maybe because my mother did most of the above to me and it was by the grace of my own self perseverance that I didn't commit self murder that I feel I need to perform some kind of social experiment. I have searched for WEEKS on a single case where a parent or guardian was prosecuted for abuse or child abandonment in regards to kicking said child out of the home without so much as a stitch of clothing on their backs if they came out. Not one. I've looked in law books, internet, magazines, ACLU, Human Rights Organization publications and...zilch. So that means anyone can throw their kid on the street subjecting them to prostitution, homelessness, drugs and Lord knows what else without the fear of being prosecuted because, guess what, no one has ever had it done to them. Not one case study, not one ballsy State Prosecutor, not one activist has tried to go this route. If they have they did a terrible job of getting the information out there, so it is just as good as sticking their heads in the sand.

Ok, so shall I continue? How about those kids that are not kicked out of the home but are forced into "deprogramming" centers (like the ex-gay ministries Focus on the Family promotes on their web page) without any chance of saying no. These kids are subject to physiological torture and brainwashing against their consent. "Torture Light" as our U.S. Attorney General Alberto Gonzalez and Secretary of the Defense Donald Rumsfeld once classified what the detainees in Abu Gharib and Guantanimo got when they were kidnapped off the streets in this country, Irag, Afganistan, Syria, Canada, Italy, England, Spain, Romania to mention few. I think some bar tender should make a drink called “Torture Light” and it should be red. Maybe on fire too. Anywho, guess what? Not one case of prosecution against these centers, or against the parents or guardians for kidnapping (which is a felony), or abuse for the torture these kids go through. All in the name of religion. Never has there been so much travesties against a human being in the name of God by organized religion without anyone having to answer for it. Granted the U.S. is getting away with it, so I guess its ok. Who cares about what these kids have to endure it says so in the bible that they are evil right? Funny thing, there are 33,000 verses, psalms, and writings in the bible yet only 7 touch on the issue of homosexuality. None of them by Jesus. None. Sodom and Gomorra were not destroyed because they were homosexual either. They were killed and the city destroyed because they were blasphemous to God. Most Christians don’t know that, or chose not to see that truth.

What about the murder? The last things these gay kids here as their lives are robbed of them and as they struggle to understand how this happened to them is faggot, queer, evil piece of shit as the blows rain down on them. All in the name of God. If and when these perpetrators get caught more often then not they are charged with manslaughter or second degree murder because there is no federal stature that clearly defines the consequences of committing a hate crime. We are second class citizens. The Rev Charles Stanley of Atlanta stated to American troops in the beginning of the war with Iraq “God favors war for divine reasons and sometimes uses it to accomplish his will.” This guy is the former head of the Southern Baptist Convention. This is the example being set for our troops and citizens of the U.S. Its ok to kill in the name of God. You are doing his bidding. Kinda contradicts the teachings of Jesus; “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you.”

So yeah I feel a bit defeated despite all the screaming and writing I do. Our straight allies are great but don’t do enough. The adult gay men and women don’t do enough. Everyone is so freaking complacent. I do what I can by donating to these organizations that claim to fight for our rights, but they don’t do enough. They go the middle road as to not rock the boat, they too getting sucked into the defeatist mentality. I am not doing enough. Money is not enough, my words are not enough, my thoughts of hope are not enough. Hey, I am trying though. I am fighting, I do care. I just don’t know what else I can do. Let me regroup and try a different approach. Maybe dancing around naked with “Torture Light” spray painted on my body will work? Maybe I need to open up some kibbutz for runaway gay and lesbian teens? Maybe I need to give up and just think about myself for now and doing so I find something in myself that will wake everyone up around me. Since when did Hope become such a bad word?

I suck...

2006-03-10T11:03:00.000-05:00

Ok, I know. Major slack off for not keeping up with the posting. A few people are mad, some forgot about me, some don't care. I have to admit, I have been writing and I am going to post a ton of stuff in the next day or so but I have been super duper sicky poo. I have pink eye (conjunctivitis) in BOTH eyes so everything is a blur until about noon. Since I am holistic in my practice of medicine, it takes a while for the nastier buggies to get cleaned out of my system. On top of that I have wicked sinus infection which makes my brain feel like it is pushing out of my ears. Ugggooooo! I can't complain to much because I rarely get sick actually. I take excellent care of myself so I am pretty resilient if I catch a cold. I can count on strep throat once a year but other than that I can run a marathon backwards while smoking a pack of American Spirit Ultra lights. According to my step mother who is a nurse at Jackson Memorial Hospital conjunctivitis is running rampant right now in Miami. Oddly I don't think I got it from someone, more like I got it from something. A week ago I was on a photo shoot at the end of South Beach and was appalled at the amount of garbage people had left on the beach. I was FURIOUS, and sick to my stomach. I swear to you there was: a hypodermic needle for injecting insulin, diapers (used), beer cans and bottles, empty bags of Doritos, styrofoam cups, plastic knives and forks, soda cans, used condoms, empty cigarette packs and butts, discarded food, empty suntan lotion bottles, and a million other things I can't even remember. All in a two block stretch of the beach, that had PLENTY of garbage cans. I was stomping around the beach picking up as much crap as I could, much to the amusement of the crew and the models I was working with. Well, I don't think I cleaned my hands so good because literally that night my right eye starting getting all oozy and junk. Now I did clean my hands after doing my part to help Mother Earth, but can you imagine what all that stuff is actually doing to the water and sand. No wonder the polar ice caps are melting. I literally filled a whole can with the garbage I picked up. Now multiply it by 30 blocks that make up South Beach and we have one huge problem. I am starting to get nervous about surfing now, God forbid I step on one of those needles.

So anywho, I am recouping. Next time I am going to have to wear gloves. And a hazmat suit. And have a bucket of boiling water on standby. Thank goodness I am leaving this shithole this summer. I can't begin to fathom how many hurricanes we will have blast through South Florida this year. There is no such thing as global warming. Right Mr. President? It is all an illusion. I end this blog with this. Senator James Inhofe of Oklahoma once stated [referring to the environmentalist movement on Pat Robertson's TV show] "You quit worshipping God and start worshipping the creation- the creeping things, the four-legged beasts, the birds and all that. If you read Romans 1:25, it says 'and they gave up their God and started worshipping the creation.' That's what we are looking at now, that's what's going on." Robertson gave his glowing praise of the Senaturd calling him a "strong critic of the excesses of the environmentalist movement." Hmmmm, if you believe in God, or Allah, or Buddha I would like to think that He blessed us with Earth as a gift that we should cherish and care for as we would ourselves. Granted most people in this country will shovel barrels of McDonalds and Burger King into themselves but that isn't the point. Besides the above quote from the bible has NOTHING to do with environmentalism (ists). It is a scare tactic for the Pagans written during the earliest times Christianity when the founders were trying to cement the religion as the norm. When these words in the Good Book didn't convince the Pagans to convert and renounce their faith to Christianity, they were tortured and killed until people were so scared to speak out and believe what was in their hearts. Sound familiar?

Technicolor Illusions...

2006-02-18T12:40:00.000-05:00

I feel alone. I have never felt this way before, in my soul. Granted, I have been alone since I was a kid, not wanted by what was supposed to be the most important part of my life, but I was distracted. As a kid I was always exploring, getting into new adventures never caring that my mother threw me out of the house from time I woke up until the time the sun went down. At night when the rest of the family was watching television I was in my room, alone, but dreaming and creating new adventures in my head. I would draw those thoughts out, paint them with colored pencils, technicolor illusions. As I grew up, I became reliant on my times alone with my self and my thoughts. It was a way of defying my mother, or defying the obstacles that she lobbed in my way. Little grenades of discontent. I created alone, she could not touch or harm them with her words or her regrets. I would never let her into my head to see these things that made me so happy and artistic. She would have used them against me. It is sad that I recognized this at 6 and 10 years of age.

The happiest moments in my younger life were when I was working with my hands, creating little forts with the biggest branches my little arms could carry, painting with the mud, making a sanctuary for my thoughts. When my parents starting sending me to art schools, I was invincible. Determined to keep my head above water for one more day so I could paint with pencils and chalks, oils or acrylics, on paper or canvas. Always at my happiest, they would take it away. As punishments for being a mischievous and excited 6 or 15 year old kid. It was a weapon for my mother, and not that big of a deal for my father. Once again alone, forced into the abyss of my thoughts. My father never wanted to believe I was alone, he saw it right in front of him, but he was surviving in his own way. My mother could have cared less what the effects were. I was always back on my feet, no matter what bruises to my ego or my body were there, determined to have them see me. Recognize my eternal state of melancholy was not just my nature, but what they were creating and trying to overcome by hearing the words I LOVE YOU.

I don’t remember the exact age I stopped painting and drawing, but somewhere in my late teen years. Probably my senior year in high school. I had to find a new normal. I still never felt alone. Weird. Even when I was kicked out of my house and dodging shadows in the streets did I feel as empty as I feel now. I know now there were people who knew of my situation, scrounging for food, sleeping under bleachers or life guard stands, and did nothing. I still didn’t feel alone. I was living, surviving and for some odd reason enjoying it. Maybe I picked the right friends for those times to help me get through it. A new family. I can’t remember a lot of their faces but I remember they let me feel needed even if it was to hear their pain and help them through it. To be the recipient of their soliloquies.

I have experienced lots of tragedies in my life. The suicide of an ex-boyfriend, death of my best friend, my own near death from overdose. Even when my mother and brothers decided I didn’t need to be a part of their lives in any way and cut all ties with me did I ever feel alone. It wasn’t until a recent addition to my life in the way of a new friend lost his lover, whom I never met, did I begin to feel this way. At the memorial service I began to realize I have never truly felt the unconditional love that these two people had for each other. Sure, if I were to leave this Earth quickly and tragically I would be missed but I wouldn’t have someone other than family and a few close friends at my funeral. No lover with a broken heart. Someone who completely understood my quirks and my indecipherable smiles. Someone who encouraged me in the mornings when we woke up next to each other. Someone to make me soup when I was sick. Someone who saw me. Maybe this sounds selfish, and I should be happy with what I have got. However, I can’t help but feel that some of these family and friends I feel love from might be a part of my life for superficial reasons. I have them there to validate me. Validate my existence.

I think I am doing something wrong. I have been painfully open to unconditional love since I was a child and yet, it seems out of reach. I still keep my head up, I still trudge on through the discontent that surrounds me. Still happy to be alive, ready for my next adventure, excited to create. I have started painting again, albeit with a new medium. I listen to people, give advice, make people feel people feel beautiful on the outside, so that they can start feeling beautiful in the inside. For once, I want to feel selfish. This isn’t a proper thing to ask for I suppose. Some people in this world end up alone, and are ok with it. If not downright happy about it. I don’t want to be one of those people. Until my selfishness is satisfied, I will create and hope. Most of all I will dream. Dream that all the trials and tribulations were not in vain, and were placed on my shoulders for a reason. Its ok to dream.

A Word to the Wise Guy...

2006-02-02T12:16:00.000-05:00

I stood there with my last check in my hand and realized that it was my last check.
--William S. Burroughs

My brain hurts today. One too many cocktails last night. Plus champagne, which always makes me scream in the morning. Uggg, I am just a mess. I just had to drink last night. I purposely got drunk. Guilt trip today? You better believe it. But why? I think I might be reading into this too much. I can get drunk off my ass without jumping to the conclusion that I am drowing my sorrows or self medicating. Its ok to just let go. Or is it? Why do I feel guilty? Its not like I went home with someone, or snorted a rail of coke. Although, both of those thoughts crossed my mind. Its not like I do this shit all the time. Excuses, excuses. Wow, I am coming across as a total junkie right now. William S. Burroughs watch out!!

Dream Bitch!!!

2006-02-01T23:50:00.000-05:00

I believe that we cannot live better than in seeking to become still better than we are.
--Socrates

If it should happen that your dreams are shattered, do not be afraid. Have the courage to pick up the pieces and smile at the world. For dreams that are easily shattered can just as easily be rebuilt.
--Chris Jensen

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die, life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.
--Langston Hughes

A dreamer lives for eternity

Words from Mother Teresa

2006-01-29T12:24:00.000-05:00

“People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered; forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies; succeed anyway. If you are honest and sincere, people may decieve you; be honest and sincere anyway. What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight; CREATE anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous; be happy anyway. The good you do today will often be forgotten; do good anyway. Give the best you have, and it may never be enough; give your best anyway. In the final analysis, it is between you and God; it was never between you and them anyway.”

--Mother Teresa

Ooopsie...

2006-01-23T22:32:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I might have opened my mouth too quickly with Madge Weinstein. It is the Italian in me. Always wanting to get fired up. I am not shying away from my defensiveness, but I should have waited a bit. Max can still can kiss my ass. Still was good to get it off my chest though, because I can go night swimming in the bay. It is so beautiful out tonight.

Stirring up the hornets nest...

2006-01-23T19:42:00.000-05:00

Well, it has been a few days since I have had the cause or the care to write my words. I'm sure there was a need to, but my heart, or rather my soul wasn't into it. Feeling a bit empty lately, no direction. Writing shit down didn't seem as though it would do anything. I have a tendency to internalize a lot of stuff that is happening in my life and I work these issues over and over in my head until I can come up with a resolution or at least an explanation. So I figured I would try and get some outside opinions on a few questions that were bubbling somewhere on the back burner of my thought process. Maybe I didn't ask my questions correctly, but I wasn't expecting the response I got. In fact, I was called "weasely" and "fuck cake" by various people, which didn't hurt my feelings or anything, but I did find it unnecessary, creative as these comments were. I have been trying to enlighten myself, and do so by listening to others, to see that we as a nation, or world can work together to create harmony with nature, the economy, but most of all each other. I have been kicked in the teeth for opening my mouth. What a waste.

The most questions that I have been asking myself lately have to deal with expatriates and their duties/responsibilities as members of a grassroots movement that is really starting to pick up some momentum in this country. I have been listening to expats and what they have to say (especially the Willing Warrior) and seriously thinking about taking that big jump AGAIN. Only this time I will be doing it for different reasons. This time I will be thinking about the bigger picture, and how it will effect ME. I am sick of worrying about what other people think about me and I need to listen to my soul too. However, to become an expat in this day and age, when the Constitution is being used as a place mat to the buffet table at the White House, is something I have to weigh heavily in my mind. It isn't only me I have to take into consideration. While Bush can talk to his cronies about how much fun it is to take away people's civil liberties, I have to be concerned about my well-being, as well as my family and friends. What would prevent this administration from seizing property from my father, or spying on my friends if I start really speaking my mind about this government and this President. He is doing this already!! This is not some kind of made up fairy tail, that some liberal zealot is making up. Granted I might be a bit vain in thinking these things would actually effect me, but I have to prepare none-the-less. On top of that, would leaving the U.S. be the right thing to do? Should I be staying here to fight in the trenches? Which way is the right way? I am a proud American and I want to express that to the world. Even though I am considered a second class citizen in my country, I feel I am not doing enough to make this country better. See my dilemma?

In trying to better myself I have opened my mind even more and listened to EVERYTHING that is going on around me. So, when I posed a few questions to Madge Weinstein (Richard) of Yeast Radio yesterday on the show's comment line, someone that I have looked up to for the plethora of knowledge that she has provided to us, I expected a different answer. Maybe I have projected my hopes of what that answer would be on my subconscious, but I expected an unbiased answer and especially one that wasn't so negatively charged. She assumed that I was some South Beach disco gym bunny that drove my SUV from party to party and totally misread my comment or at least took some of it out of context. I wanted to know what she thought of Expats (being one herself) and what might be some of the legal repercussions upon those same expats coming back into their country if they are vocal about their dissent mainly in regards to the Patriot Act. Legit question. Maybe I should have let her know that I had been an expat at one point in my life, that I have literally lived on the streets at 17, had no contact with anyone in my family for 10 years blah, blah, blah, to paint a picture of where I was coming from, but that was a waste of time and not necessary. There was more concern about why I didn't invite her out to coffee to comfort her in her time of need. Granted, that was a question that I passed around a couple of times, but it seem like a burden to ask to meet somewhere and not one that I should ask on the freaking comment line! Sorry, Madge my mind was somewhere else. I suppose the question was dumb. I just come from the class that states there are no stupid questions just stupid answers. I don't know where to go with her response.

Max from the Karma Banque stated that I was weasel. Fuck him. For his information, people pay their taxes every April 15th in THIS COUNTRY and still get their civil liberties trampled on, so what is preventing this administration from doing it to Americans in other countries. The CIA had a field day in Italy AND left a bill behind as a collective thumbing of their noses to the European Union. Why not you too Max? How would you like to get kidnapped off the street and sent to Guantanimo as a enemy combatant just for your words. Please stop acting like and arrogant economist licknob that is out to save the world. In this time of the upstart of a new grassroots movement Qpodders and the like need to be cautious about becoming fanatics and turning their words of wisdom into senseless banter that the American people tune out and turn to E! Television to see what is going on with the whole Bragelina/JeniVaughn situation. You have the power to take back the media, but you sure as shit not going pull anything off calling a listener a weasel and expect them to smile and take it without any lube. Uggg, I am getting way to preachy. I must be irked about this more than I thought. I am going insane?

Open your eyes...

2006-01-19T12:11:00.000-05:00

I have been laid up in bed for the last couple of days with a wicked migraine so I haven’t had the opportunity to blog. My apartment became a cave until I broke down and went to the urgent care to get the drip. I have no idea why it kicked my ass so bad. Three days is way too long for a migraine. I can honestly say it was most likely brought on by stress, which is alarming. I haven’t had one in a while because I have been pretty good with meditating and clearing my mind of all the crap that I have a tendency to internalize. I suppose that with my start of my enlightenment and all the information I have been absorbing subconsciously I have been worrying about my future. I like to say that I look out for myself and could care less what other people do with their lives. That is a lie. I do care what other people do around me and I do have compassion. At this point though, with all of the information I have at my finger tips the concern of my well being has surpassed my little microcosm and involves the world as a whole. I am a part of this world and I have to survive in it, but as a person living in what has been labeled the greatest country in the world I am feeling more and more like a second class citizen. My voice is being muffled by banality. It hurts. Bad. Since the body and the mind have a connection, clearly the pain I am feeling mentally transposed to the body and gave me something tangible to accept as the truth. Stress will kill you, I am stressed, I have to fix that truth.

What am I to do except to educate myself more and continue the grass roots movement and educate others. I can say this is a great idea in logic but in reality it is a complete farce. People are fine with the $4 lattes and what Anne Curry spews out every morning on the Today Show. Just reading the shit off the AP wire. Americans realize that things aren’t good and these elected officials need to be replaced, and the media needs to be given back to the people, and the economy is about to bottom out, but NOTHING. Where do I go from here when I see such complacency in my fellow citizens. I am disappointed in myself for not reaching out more. I am proud to say that I opted to stay in America to help fight the oppression after the last election. In hindsight, I should have become an Expat. I cannot rely on my fellow Americans to rise up because they have accepted the truth they have been fed. So where do I go from here? At what point does absorbing all of the information out there become detrimental and in turn me into the jaded bitter queen that I been fighting to avoid? Should I just laugh off this foreboding and just take each day one step at a time? Uggg, here I go over thinking things again! I need an answer this time though. My mental health depends on it.

Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid...

2006-01-15T12:09:00.000-05:00

"We often call the White House and talk to Karl Rove," Jerry Falwell says of the Arlington Group. "Everyone takes our calls." --as quoted in Vanity Fair, December 2005

Good old boys Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell are getting all twitter pated lately. They see the Queen exposed on the board and are planning some kind of scary. I suppose it has been lurking underneath the surface for a bit, and I've chosen to ignore the signs up until Pat Robertson's lovely greeting of well wishing to Ariel Sharon. Granted Mr. Sharon has not been able to enjoy these kind words from the Evangelical Superstar because he pissed God off and is lying in a medically enhanced blissful coma. He shouldn't have been trying to break up the Holy Land and/or try to bring peace to the region when it clearly belongs to the Christians. Arrogant Jew!

Watch out Israelis! Pat Robertson might act like he is your friend because you hate the gays as much as he does, but he also hates the humanists, Arabs, Muslims, Asians, Dykes, and Hugo Chavez (although I think his buddy Georgie Bush put him up to the last one). Basically anyone that isn't a Evangelical Christian. Don't say I didn't warn you. Read behind the half assed apology to Prime Minister Sharon's family and see the complete utter contempt he has for someone he feels is breaking up God's land. Don't think he wouldn't try and force the Jews into converting to Christianity without instilling the fear of eternal damnation for failing to do so.

I am convinced that Jerry Falwell and his cronies such as Ralph Reed are preparing themselves as well as the 70 million other Evangelicals to become a very powerful force in the American political system. Having accomplished so much already with the blatant bigotry towards homosexuals by uniting other religions in the renewed hatred, the focus has been diverted away from the positioning of the political chips. The Catholics, Jews, and Muslim, have all found common ground with the Evangelical Christians and have issued very strong words basically in the favor of eradicating homosexuality in its entirety. Those pesky homos taken care of by the other religions, opens up more free time to "spread the word". It is no secret that the Christian Right has helped undermine the peace process in Israel in the past with the help of Benjamin Netanyahu. With Ariel Sharon out of the picture, the Christians are in excellent position to help undo whatever Sharon has accomplished recently and keep Israel the way it feels it should be by divine right. With conservative Jews in agreement with people like Falwell and Robertson about keeping the infidels out of the Kingdom of Heaven the Muslims are next in the sights of the scope. The fox and wolf are playing together. When the food is all gone who will the wolf eat?

Even with Bush's waning popularity and the downfall of some politicians such as Tom DeLay the Christian Right has been gaining steam in the multiple areas. They were at a whisper after the Scopes trial in 1925 and are now at a steady roar having picked up in the 70's. You can occasionally hear the hoot and holler of a fanatic, but the time in between fanatics has become shorter and always with renewed vigor. Pat Robertson, Fred Phelps, and Jerry Falwell are old and on their way but what scares me is who is around the corner? The ones that we don't know about yet, that have been groomed for the the new face of conservative Christianity. Will the person who succeeds Sharon see the potential for disaster and take a different approach in the constant search for peace in Israel. If God wills it. I will munch on my nails in the mean time.

Same View During Hurricane Wilma

2006-01-11T19:25:00.000-05:00

Man did we piss off Momma Nature this summer or what? Yet on the beach today I was schleping through soda cans, cigarette butts, and food wrappers. There is no such thing as global warming! It is all a lie. Those scientists are fools damn it, and if my religion says that creationism prevails over evolution then the scientists are wrong this time too!
http://yosemite.epa.gov/oar/globalwarming.nsf/content/Impacts.html

My View This Morning

2006-01-11T14:57:00.000-05:00

The light is so amazing in this neck of the woods in the winter. I love to take huge breaths of the hazy mornings and allow myself to connect with good ol' Momma Earth. The only thing better is cloud watching at night.

Deja-Vu

2006-01-11T14:18:00.000-05:00

Ok, this was posted on Monday so we are up to date. From here on out, the produce is fresh.

Boy oh boy, I have a moment to sit down and write out something real quick. During the last few days my free time has been limited to minutes. Crazy. I did think I was going to get real sick this weekend but I seem to have fought off whatever was lingering. I usually get strep throat at least once a year and I thought Sunday was that day the virus found me again. I kept looking at the back of my throat with a flashlight to see if my throat was going to go to hell in a hand-basket. Needless to say some of the models were looking at me like a leper. It never happened (knock on wood). I think I have been in such a great mood lately that my body was happy to fight off whatever little buggies were trying to take over. Tons o' vitamins. I try to stay away from all conventional medicines these days. Aside from the fact that America is over medicated but secondly because our bodies are the most powerful and amazing machines we will ever encounter so if we treat it right physically it will treat us right mentally. Right? Correct me if I am wrong. However, when it comes to strep throat I am cautious. Not only does it hurt like hell and I can't swallow even a mouthful of water, but it can spread to the lungs and scar them causing pneumonia. Joshy poo does not need that. Other than that slight edge to my weekend I am doing well. I've had deja-vu hit me TWICE this week. I think I might be on the right path karmawise. Maybe that explains why I have been in such a great mood. I am excited of the possibilities lurking out there, those influences that will be changing the world and in turn me. Ahhh, I have to run right now. I have way to much energy to be sitting in this chair. I will come back though...too much to talk about and challenge. By the way if you haven't checked out Willing Warrior yet on blogspot.com do it already!! Otherwise just check out weather.com and see how wonderful Miami's weather is right now. Jealous? What?

Munchies

2006-01-11T14:11:00.000-05:00

Also from previous post, I feel they are significant but not sure why yet. Maybe it is best to reflect later and hopefully I will be able to ask better questions of myself.

Yummy and delicious. I must say this salad I made just now is spectacular. Plus, it is all organic. Even the dressing. Cucumbers, baby spinach, egg, smoked turkey and chipotle ranch dressing. Anywho, just came from yoga and I am so zen right now. No one can screw up my chi. I probably should have not eaten such a huge thing after Bikram. Oh well. I am feeling very spiritual today. Not religious, just open to good karma. Weird state of mind to be in for someone who labels himself agnostic. I suppose my sense of hope is larger than what I want others to believe. Iconic images have been crossing my path so much lately. In the form of art or music comes the request of enlightenment. Even at the gym I hear Madonna singing her tribute to Isaac over and over. So much for separation of church and state...of mind. People hold onto faith so intensely. I've never really had all that much faith in organized religion. Take Jerusalem for instance. One of the most holiest cities in the world has seen mankind butcher each other in the name of God. From Tom Cruise and the Church of Scientology to Madonna and her praise of Kabalah no one can seem to get enough. Since when did religion need so much PR? Doesn't all this exposure contradict the teachings of the majority of these religions?
Enough for now. I am thinking way to much before bed and then I will never get to sleep. I have a 6:30 am call time tomorrow. It is going to be hard to be nice that early in the morning. Peace for now.

Can you feel the crackle?

2006-01-11T14:05:00.000-05:00

This is a blog that I posted recently on Myspace. I like Blogger better. The information posted is still prudent.

I know I have been such a lazy bitch when it comes to blogging lately, but I just can't find myself ready to spill the guts. Hell, I am not sure if I am going up or sideways right now. I must say I have been basking in the freaking ridiculously fantastic weather Miami has been having lately. Surfing, getting nice and toasty in the winter sun. So crisp. I don't think it has dipped below 75 during the day for about 2-3 weeks! Maybe why I haven't tied myself down to the computer. I should have been, people have been fascinating this week too. Call it the new year, or what is going on in the news right now but everyone seems alert and cautious but most of all electrified with something I can't place a finger on. People are raising their eyebrows at certain questions and current events lately and I like it. I don't know what caused this ebbing of the tide. Is the press finally starting to buck up a bit and starting to release more challenging new pieces? Or are people just educating themselves more? Is this "Age of Aquarius" hubba baloo really starting to click in the thought process of Americans? Or is it just starting with the artists, and we have a job to educate more? Will the masses listen this time? Do they want to?
I long for peace for PM Sharon. He has worked so hard for peace with himself as well as his countrymen, yet his body's explosive display of mortality has kicked me in the gut for some reason. I really haven't been keeping abreast of the situation in Israel, however I know that there has been some progress. If he dies where does this leave Israel? Most of all what does this do to the status of the Middle East at this point. It is hostile now, communication is so vital at this point. No positioning of chips. I hope there are other people that think on the same lines in the Middle East and their voices are heard. Ugg, I am so preachy today.
I am not too proud as to say to Jeff Abramoff "BUSTED BIOTCH!!" Ahhh, ain't karma a motha'? To top it all off, Mr. Abramoff is staying true to character and becoming the biggest snitch bitch to avoid as much jail time and fines. Washington D.C. cannot disavow him quick enough. President Bush practically had a Bar-B-Q with the campaign contribution that he received. Looks like someone flicked on the light. I expect the next few weeks will determine if I should give up total faith in America and run off to Spain. Hey this is what one of the Republicans said. "I wish it hadn't happened because it's not going to help us keep our majority." Rep. Ralph Regula, R-Ohio. Well, duh. Next time Representative Regula let your constituents know that taking bribes is a big no-no. To take it from a lobbyist for the American Indians is just plain tacky. What is really sad is that the kindly representative is more concerned with keeping the majority instead of being concerned about how this happened and what will it do to his party? Stubborn man. Since when did it become a popularity contest to run this country?!
Alright, I see I need to jump off my soapbox and become more self absorbed. My apartment is a disaster so I suppose I show grow up and clean it. Or hire a house keeper. Off to yoga, I need to cleanse. Ciao for now.

The Start of Something New

2006-01-10T22:40:00.000-05:00

So it begins. The start of something new. Life isn't about finding yourself, life is about creating yourself. I am ready to create, eyes wide open and ready to absorb. Everything is a blur with no definitive point. I am excited, I am scared, I am alive. I am the Sherpa of the Banality.