bless his heart

So this is how you all see me...



I need help. Please help me stop the insanity.

i became this

So yesterday, I was in line at the Publix, and my friend Joelene happened to show up in line behind me. There I am, minding my own business, when I here someone purr, "Well, hello!" We hugged, and thankfully he didn't comment on the contents of my grocery bag: fried chicken, ice cream, wine, and macaroni-and-cheese. Don't judge me...I was having a bad day.

So we're chatting, and all of a sudden one of the Publix holiday balloons burst. Loudly. *POP*

Well, we both turned into Nathan Lane from the clip above. We both screeched and freaked out and turned into bigger, nellier, gayer queens than we both are. And it was some of the most fun I've had in a while.

Despite the fact that this interaction made me feel a lot better, I still went home and ate the nasty food. And that made me feel a WHOLE lot better....

why men don't write advice columns

Dear Walter:

I hope you can help me here. The other day I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't gone more than a mile down the road when my engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help. When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in the bedroom with a neighbor lady making mad passionate love to her. I am 32, my husband is 34 and we have been married for twelve years. When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that he'd been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless. I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become increasingly distant. I don't feel I can get through to him anymore.

Can you please help?

Sincerely,
Mrs.. Sheila Usk

Dear Sheila:

A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the jubilee clips holding the vacuum pipes onto the inlet manifold. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the carburetor float chamber.

I hope this helps.

Walter

don't judge me

No...that is not a photo of Yours Truly.

shamiru...shamaziru...

One of my favorite SNL skits - EVER!

guilty as charged

During my last few days off for Thanksgiving break, I have committed every one of Dante's Seven Deadly Sins:

Luxuria (extravagance, later lust) - Ohhhh, I have lusted in my heart, all righty. A coupla Junior League-ers, and most notably a surprise guest at my parents' cocktail party. He's a carpenter - and a former professional windsurfer - who also does triathlons and bikes a hundred miles a day or something. *Sigh* Those of you who were with me in P'Town for Labor Day will know what I mean when I say - TICKETS!

Gula (gluttony) - Well...let's see. Had a decadent Ladies Who Lunch Dinner with the OSW at Rathbun's, where we sampled every Small Plate on the menu, and wished to sample the meaty bartender. Ooops..that should go under lust. Funny how they are sorta the same. Between that and the typically extraordinary traditional Thanksgiving dinner at my folks house, well...I may just hafta think about putting my gym membership to work.

Avaritia (greed) - More more MORE!

Acedia (sloth) - I have not risen before 10 AM since Tuesday. I haven't lifted a finger to address the mountain of work that awaits me when I get back into the swing tomorrow. As for today, well...it's Sunday, cold, and rainy in Atlanta. I woke up, got breakfast, planted myself on the couch, and have been watching movies all day. Glorious.

Ira (wrath, more commonly known as anger) - I'm very angry with myself for something, but I'm not quite sure what it is.

Invidia (envy) - I'm jealous of people who have someone to sit with on the couch and be slothful and feed them decadent food.

and Superbia (pride) - Ahhh. My favorite. I'm proud of my family, and the extraordinary laughter that fills our dining room on such holidays. I'm proud of the fact that I know from whence I come, and it is a very funny, accepting place. I'm proud of my friends who remind me that I'm not alone. And I'm proud of the freedom I have to be what I want.

hello, my name is erik and i don't like dogs

"Hi, Erik."

For those of you who know me, the above declaration is not a surprise. My disdain for dogs is quite well-known among my circle of friends. Few people talk about it, like when you have a relative that hates Jews or something, but you never bring it up at Thanksgiving in hopes that we can just get through the day without making anyone cry.

For the record, I do not "hate" dogs. I don't hate anything. I just don't LIKE dogs. Or any other pet, for that matter. There are reasons, but I just don't feel like sharing them with you.

Well, I'll share one reason with you.

http://www.collettscountrykennel.com/placed.html

The DJ told me the most hysterical story about a crazy dog owner today, and I do hope he'll share it on his blog. But it got me looking up "crazy dog people" on the interweb, and I found the above site.

Gag.

let the holiday fearmongering begin!

It's that time of year - all of our wonderful media outlets are set with their annual litany of warnings and statistics to help keep us alive on this, the Deadliest Holiday of the Year.

Between the traffic and DUI warnings to the dietary scares, it's a miracle that any of us make it to the New Year. I mean, on the "Today" show this morning, we were actually warned to take caution at our traditional Thanksgiving meals because one might have a heart attack after eating such a calorie-dense plate of food.

I have lots of plans for this week. I don't go back to work until Monday, so I plan to party a little, spend time with my family, relax, and eat.

I'll check in on Monday to let you know that I survived.

ruminations on project runway

This is one of TWO reality shows that I love (the other is/was "Pioneer House). I adore "Project Runway" because the people actually make something and have to work for their prize. As opposed to just doing shooters in some hot tub and bitching about alliances or some shit...

Here are some thoughts on this season's "Project Runway" premiere:

* The guys on this season's show are the hottest ever on the program

* They are also the GAYEST! EVER!!!

* Tim Gunn is a big, neat, tidy, anal, pompous, talented, silly old ginger paleface queen. I ASPIRE to the odd combination of nurturing mentor/catty old woman that he displays with every "Carry on!" and "Make it work..." or every comment that a designer has "a lot of finishing to do..." It's sort of like a Southern woman looking at a fat, ugly, tacky-but-sweet girl and saying, "Bless her heart..."

* I love how they dub in the plugs for various products when the camera cuts away from Heidi Klum's face. Case in point: she asked all of the new designers how they liked their new homes in the Gotham New York (their temporary apartment building). Then, when the camera cut away, they inserted a voiceover of Heidi saying, "New York's premiere rental apartment community for everything you love in the Big Apple" or some such shit.

* I hate Ricky's "hat thing."

* Not only is Fatty Chris a big fatty, but he has the worst plucked eyebrows in America.

* The results haven't been announced as of this writing, but I predict that they will keep Krazy Elisa, just because she's quirky. Gross. Her model tripped over her stupid dress. Kick her ass out.

okay, okay

Maybe I'm going a little overboard with the whole "embedded video" thing. But I think that the video below is breathtaking.

Simply breathtaking.



To quote a great philosopher (i.e., the star of the video)...

"Stay tuned for more!"

what it feels like for a girl

Well...it's official:

I'm a homeowner, once again.

I closed on my home today, and you know what? Even though I've lived here for a year and a half, it felt different when I walked through the door this evening. I can't explain it, but it did. And it felt wonderful.

So. Lemme get some things in order and then I'm gonna have a really, really fine cocktail party. You are all invited.

this week's favorite thing

Lawrt. I think I know what we'll all be for Halloween next year.

on being manly

Recently I found myself having cocktails on a porch here in Our Fair City. Shocker, I know. I was chatting with a dear friend who is a closing attorney for a leading real estate law firm here in town. Pretty much everybody knows that the real estate market has taken quite a tumble here in town (and nationally), but the tendency among real estate professionals is to adopt a "Put on a happy face...make lemonade out of lemons...hey, this is just a correction" kind of attitude. Usually with clenched teeth and a hyper-forced grin.

Not my friend. He laid it out for me honestly (his statistics were staggering), and said, "Hey, I know I'm supposed to be all 'everything's fine here' about this, but I'm man enough to say it sucks, it will probably get worse before it gets better, and it's making a lot of people unhappy."

I was quite charmed by his honesty. I have a lot of friends in real estate, and many of them are swallowing the party Kool Aid and claiming that business is steady, people are buying, and things are lookin' up. Ahhh, the power of denial. All's I can say is that I'm REALLY glad I got out of that line of work - for a trilliion reasons, most of which were simply personal.

My friend's sincerity got me thinking about my own tendency to laugh wildly amidst severest woe. Not that I have any tragedy in my life or anything; I'm healthy, employed with work I love, and about to purchase the home that I will most likely live in forever. I have gifts and resources, friends and family, and little about which to complain.

But sometimes I get overwhelmed, and I'm coming to the realization that I'm not as good at handling it anymore. One of my biggest observations about people with problems is my opinion that many people build their own prisons - financially, romantically, spiritually - whatever. The harder thing to realize is that you've built your own prisons. Now, I have to figure a way out of them.

So, I took a walk today in my park, and made a mental sketch of the prisons I've built for myself. The task of breaking out of them is (to emply hyperbole) Herculean. But they are my own, I built them, and I can find a way to compromise their architecture.

A dear friend told me just last night that he has recently been completely overwhelmed with things. His discovery was that great things come ONLY when you are so burdened. I take those words deeply to heart.

I think I'll start by cleaning my kitchen.

this week's favorite thing

This is totally safe for work, but not for your sense of good taste.

I had the extreme pleasure of seeing one Miss Dana Owens perform at Atlanta's Symphony Hall last night. Queen Latifah herself was eight feet from me and my sister (we were in the front row; our parents graciously let us have the good seats while they sat WAY back in the fifth row), and her powerful vocals stirred us to distraction. At one point, she came downstage to say "hello" to us, and shook our hands.

She was enchanting, and sang songs from just about every genre: gospel, soul, funk, jazz, and...to my great pleasure...Broadway. Her rendition of "I Know Where I've Been" from "Hairspray" was breathtaking. Better than that, however, was her introduction to the song, when she sincerely thanked everyone for their support of the film. I felt like I was watching a friend perform beloved songs, and that's a rare and beautiful talent.

Afterwards, there was some funny business in the lobby. My sister agreed to take a photo with ten of us gay boys, and made the comment that she'd be the "token girl in the picture." Out of nowhere, some total stranger walked up and inserted herself into the shot. Apparently, she thought that my sister's comment was made out of the exasperation of being the only lesbian lady in the photo, and wanted to help out a sistah. It was weird and interesting and funny. After a few moments, the lady (who was with her partner of 13 years, by the way) asked if my sister was "family." My sister graciously said that she wasn't but that I was, and that "we" all were - "we" being my mother, father, sister, and I.

Like a great philosopher once said, "Music...makes the people...come together."