Me So Sleepy.

- In the middle of moving.

- No internet access.

- No email access.

- Living out of boxes.

- Spent the day at Niagara.

- I love The Boyfriend.

- I love my friends.

I have a post in the works, but it is in my computer, which is at my old place, that I will be at for the next few days for painting and cleaning.

I'm very tired. I've been working hard, and not getting a lot of sleep. But I do have a post started, I just need to get it online, which is difficult with no internet access, and all my blank discs are in some box... somewhere over there... or over there... or in that corner over there. I'm going to cry.

Remember my OCD thingy.... yeah... moving is killing me. I need more wine.

Write more soon. Sorry for being absent. Now, where is that wine.

Meditate Upon These Truths...

Three monks decided to practice meditation together. They sat by the side of a lake and closed their eyes in concentration.

Then suddenly, the first one stood up and said, “I forgot my mat.” He steeped miraculously onto the water in front of him and walked across the lake to their hut on the other side.

When he returned, the second monk stood up and said, “I forgot to put my other underwear to dry.” He too walked calmly across the water and returned the same way.

The third monk watched the first two carefully in what he decided must be the test of his own abilities. “Is your learning so superior to mine? I too can match any feat you two can perform,” he declared loudly and rushed to the water’s edge to walk across it. He promptly fell into the deep water.

Undeterred, the monk climbed out of the water and tried again, only to sink into the water. Yet again he climbed out and yet again he tried, each time sinking into the water. This went on for some time as the other two monks watched.

After a while, the second monk turned to the first and said, “Do you think we should tell him where the stones are?”

You Down With O.C.D.? Yeah, You Know Me.

I just finished a fantastic book; The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. This is a story of a 15 year old Autistic boy named Christopher. Christopher is walking alone one night and sees his neighbour’s dog, Wellington, dead on her lawn with a garden fork through his abdomen. Wellington looked so sad that Christopher decided it was his duty to find his murderer, and bring him to justice. Being a mathematical wizard, he uses his simple logic and problem solving skills to search for the murderer.

This whole story is told from Christopher’s perspective (from the mind of a fifteen year old autistic boy), so it is not like typical writing, because if it was typical writing, it would not be like the way Christopher thinks, and so it would be a lie. And we are told that lying is wrong. But adults tell lies all the time anyway, like when they say “she was the apple of my eye” because there are not apple’s in our eyes, so there could be no “apple of my eye”. That is an example of a lie that adults tell. A lie is not a simile or a metaphor, because those are different. (And that is an example of how this story is told).

I found this characteristic of the book very interesting, because he explained all of his thoughts and logic in a way that seemed so clear. He talked about all the stupid things that people do, and how most adults made no sense. This got me thinking about how all of us have our own compulsions, and how we think ours are very defendable, but others are just plum neurotic.

Examples:

A: I Time Distances... almost all of them. It takes me six minutes to walk to the subway station from my house. Its 19 minutes to the gym and 21 minutes to work. 3 minutes by foot to The Halfaneeses’ home. Cell Phone Boy was 17 minutes away, but since he moved, and I’m not sure the time to his new place, as I’ve not walked it yet. Eaton Center = 22 min. Gay Village = 8.5 minutes. The list goes on.

At the subway station, I know where I need to stand and wait for my train so that I get out exactly where the exit is at my destination stop. My destinations: Bay station = 5 minutes on train; Royal York Station = 25 minutes. Islington Station = 26 minutes. Now if I get on the train at work (Bay Station) it takes 20 to get to Royal York. Also, the times have recently gone up, because it used to take me only 24 to get from home to Royal York, and 25 minutes to Islington, but five weeks ago, the trains got a bit slower, and now it takes extra time. Not sure why they got slower, but if fucked me up for the first few days.

B: I Alphabetize Everything That Is Of Equal Size: CD’s, DVD’s, VHS tapes, spice jars. And I’m talking anal alphabetical. Not just half-assed, baby, it’s alphabetized like a dictionary or phonebook. And (if need be) within the alphabet, everything is chronological, i.e.: within all the Madonna CD’s, I have her newest to oldest.

The Boyfriend ‘alphabetizes’ his CD’s, but he just has all ‘A’ together, all ‘B’ together and so on. I will be making quick change of that when we start unpacking next week.

C: Clothes Are Colour Coordinated In The Closet. But there’s more to it than just that. It starts with Black long sleeve button-up, then Black long sleeve cotton, then Mostly Black but with stripes (and they’re sorted by thickness, colour and direction of stripe), then I move into Darkest Gray to Lighter Grey, then Brown, Yellow (which is here because it is visually closest to light brown), Red (including Violet and Orange), Green, Blue, then finally White. All colours are sorted by buttoned / button-less, colour lightness, and stripes as described in the Black Shirt sentence. T-shirts get their own rod in the closet.

Now, this is all pretty tame, I think. I used to be really bad. Once I put everything where it ought to be, I would be uncomfortable if anyone moved it.

The sofa pillows on the couch HAD to be ‘Zipper-edge-down-with-zipper-pull-tab-closest-to-the-center-of-the-couch’; one pillow on each end of the sofa and loveseat. I was acceptable to put two or more pillows behind you when you were sitting, but upon leaving the living room I would have to move them back to their proper place. And God help you if I walked into the room when the pillows were askew and no one was in the room.

If someone put dishes in the dishwasher ‘wrong’ (by wrong I mean any way that was not my usual), I would take everything out and reorganize the entire appliance.

The Philanthropist once changed the order on my stack of coasters (they were different colours) when I was out of the room for 45 seconds, and I noticed it as soon as I walked back into the room.

I could tell if a roommate or a house sitter had moved furniture, even slightly.

I even got uneasy when my gym would move around the equipment.

But a year on Zoloft, and a few counselling sessions later, I’m right as rain. That is, provided you don’t mess with my alphabet. Then, I’ll have your head.

I Swear On My Blue Suede Shoes, This Story Is True.

So, as I was on the subway this afternoon, I was reminded that today is the 29th anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley.

But what, pray tell, was it that refreshed my memory? I mean, what is it about my TTC train that could have sparked such knowledge?

Well, as I boarded my train at Royal York Station, an East Indian man and his wife boarded directly in front of me. It wasn’t until I was sitting across from them that I noticed something…

Right down to the gold aviator glasses and the bushy mutton chops, this man was the spitting image of The King, (with the exception of darker skin). Uh huh, with the poofy straight back, black hair, the double chin (remember, we’re talking 1970s Elvis here; not young, hot Elvis), and Hawaiian shirt. It was so close, that I couldn’t tell if he was paying homage, or just tacky.

But the icing on the cake; La pièce de résistance? His wife had straight, dark brown hair, parted perfectly down the middle with a little poof in the back. Does she fancy herself Pricilla?

It was perfect. It was all I could do not to burst out in my rendition of “Love Me Tender”.

Quick, Cute Elvis story:

My sister was 6 days old the day Elvis died. Mother was trying to feed her in the kitchen, while listening to the radio. The announcer came on with an important news bulletin: “THE KING IS DEAD!” My mom, a mild to medium Elvis fan, was certainly confused.

“The King?” she wondered. “What does he mean ‘King’? Canada is part of the commonwealth... we have no King, just Elizabeth.”

She figured it out soon enough.

You Gave Me Something To Remember.

Well, you’ve made it. Today, you turn 48.

For 48 years you’ve been a force to be reckoned with.
For 48 years you’ve stood your ground.
For 48 years you’ve followed your heart.
For 48 years you’ve made your mother proud.

I am a huge Madonna fan. This, everyone knows. I’m the guy that bought a last minute flight to San Francisco to see her in concert. I’m the guy that spent $1100 on a VIP ticket for my 2nd concert. I’m the guy that commissioned a young artist to paint a 6ft abstract of her.

But what is it about her that I love. For many people, it’s her music. For me, it’s her. AS much as I am a Madonna music fan, I’m a Madonna fan first. Some may scoff; some may roll their eyes, but hear me out.

As a young (closeted) fag, I saw her preach about being yourself. Loving you first. I saw her speak at interview after interview about being true to you. Loving you. Standing up for what you believe. Not to let others stand in the way of your dreams, or hold you back.

There had never been another person who has influenced me in this way. Though her, I learned that I did not have to apologize for who I was. I did not have to explain my drive. I could feel responsible for my actions, and be proud of what I dreamt. “Absolutely, No Regrets!”

And now she’s reaching an entirely new generation. If you’ve not done so, pick up one of her children’s books. The message in these books is so strong about being true to yourself; being proud of what you have, rather than being envious of others; sharing; honesty; real principals that the world (especially children) need to help make the world a better place.

And besides… say what you will about her acting, singing, writing, religion, age, relationships, etc…
GIRL CAN MAKE YOU DANCE!!!!!!

Happy Birthday Madge!

A Night to Remember!

This past Saturday night was a night that I will hold in my memory bank forever.

It all started back in February. While listening to ‘The Wizard of Oz’ soundtrack (homosexual men are required to do this at least once every quarter, or we lose our status) and having a gay old sing-a-long, I had a stroke of genius. An Epiphany, even! I was going to rent a movie projector and host a Wizard of Oz sing-a-long party on my back patio when my landlords were away on summer vacation.

Well, plans had to be changed. A few key players we not going to be able to make it on the day I had set aside, and I couldn’t bear to do my little party without The Lesbians. “Fear not!” I told myself. “A party will still be had. Changes in the program make life more interesting.” So I went forth with my plans, just scratched off Dorothy… and her little dog, too.

Instead, the night’s theme was this: 1950’s drive-in movie night. I borrowed a brilliant DVD projector from my friend, Fat Girl, and went through my stash of classic movies (& rented a few extra for good measure). Guests were greeted with an array of Popcorn (regular AND extra butter), liquorice, Nibs, M&M’s (Milk chocolate AND Peanut), Mild Duds, and White Cheddar Popcorn Seasoning (gross, I know. The Boyfriend loves it. The things I do for that man.)

And of course a selection of red wine, white wine, beer, vodka and gin.

I must thank my first guests for helping with the setup. I would have liked to have gotten everything ready before you arrived, but I just can’t lift the couch by myself. That’s right, the couch. I pulled my couch, my bed and my satellite chair onto the patio as well. I set up the projector and the accompanying 6 speakers and mixed myself a cocktail.

Back inside, my guests were deciding on the night’s program. Tonight, we would start with ‘An Affair to Remember’, the 1957 classic starring Cary Grant (the man who invented debonair) and Deborah Kerr. You might remember the references to this movie in 1993’s ‘Sleepless in Seattle’.

Such a beautiful love story. You could feel the emotion on the screen, even as we mocked and joked throughout the whole thing… much to The Great Scot’s chagrin. It was a beautiful night, and this picture created a great mood. Looking around, you could see everyone cuddling and snuggling up to one another.

At the stroke of midnight (and noting the fact that one of my neighbours was out of town), we popped in something darker; Alfred Hitchcock’s 1951 thriller, ‘Strangers on a Train’. Here, two men (Farley Granger as Tennis star ‘Guy’ & Robert Walker as the mysterious ‘Bruno’) meet on a train. Bruno, who hates his father, has done his homework to find out that Guy hates his wife, and offers a proposal: You kill mine, I’ll kill yours. Only Guy doesn’t think he’s serious until Bruno strangles his wife to death.

A perfect Hitchcock treat.

The night was beautiful; low wind, and just cool enough that a blanket and a cuddle would suffice to keep warm.

Again surrounded by great friends, I can’t think of a more perfect night to end my time in Cabbagetown. I may be leaving my apartment in a few short weeks, but the memories I’ve had, like this past weekend, will stay with me forever.

Special Note To Warner Bros. & 20th Century Fox: This event was free of charge to my guests, and I did not profit a cent, so please do not sue

Perfect Long Weekend for a BBQ pt2:

The day after the squirrel pee incident saw us all at The Lesbians. Puma and Her Royal Pinkness were the hostesses de jour for a day of bocce ball and BBQ. The usual suspects were there: The Boyfriend, Cousin Janet, The Great Scot, The Halfaneese, and myself, and special guest, Brother Frank.

Bocce was a hit. We all journeyed to the lakeside and found a beautiful stretch of grass that would be our playing field. Bocce is traditionally played on dirt courts of approximately 20 to 30 metres in length and approximately 2.5 to 4 metres wide. But we played with Etobicoke rules: find a big park (the bumpier the better) and the toss-er just tosses the pallino (or jack palliney, pig or boccino) in whichever direction they want. We worked our way around this small park and had onlookers onlooking the entire time, indeed jealous of our fun as they went on in their mediocre lives, thinking, "Gosh, I wish I had and existance like that. Just look at them having so much fun. They make me want to become a better person."

After an hour or so of playing in the Hot Hot Hot weather, we headed back to The Lesbians home and planted ourselves in the backyard, wine in hand. Brother Frank exited stage left, but The Soprano entered right on cue. Burgers, corn, tortillas, and fruit were served not to mention Papa G’s thick juicy sausages and The Boyfriends perfect (as usual) yummy scrummy peach pie.

It was a beautiful day. I’m not just talking weather; the whole experience. I truly have a great group of friends, and having a handful of us together enjoying an entire day of sport, food, company and booze… what more could you ask for?

Learn Something New Every Day.

After I realized I had hit 100 posts, I decided to take some time and rearrange my blog site.

You’ll notice the addition (and removal) of some sites and blogs. You’ll notice the new banners, and the addition of my “Saving the World... One Website at a Time” section, entirely devoted to Not-For-Profits and Charities that I support. While doing this I discovered the code used to perform such a task, and I thought to myself, “Self, I wonder if the same code wouldn’t work in a post. And, I wonder if I could use any picture and link and create my own banners, and direct links.”

Well, lo and behold. After only four minutes of ‘Cut and Paste”, I have done it.

Submitted for your approval, my first self made photo link (or whatever the hell these are called). I thought the first should be something important; something of substance. It’s a video featured on StopGlobalWarming.com. This particular video is a video narrative done by Leonardo DiCaprio, with music by Sigur Ros. Only a few short minutes in length, it is quite well done, and visually, quite pleasing.

Please watch it. Please do. And when you’re done, please search around this site. It’s a non-political virtual march wanting to direct the government’s attention to Global Warming and the Climate Crisis.

Sign up for the march today. Invite your friends to do the same. Let the world know that you are concerned about the planet! I have already invited some of you to join, and as for the rest of you, expect an email soon.

Reduce. Reuse. Recycle. Enjoy.

Marinade Recipe

So, I took a sirloin steak and chopped it up into cute little cubes and marinated it in this and then skewered it with peppers, onion, tomatoes, cucumbers (Ooops, I meant to buy zucchini), mushrooms, etc., but this same marinade would be lovely for a roast or steaks or any kind of red meat cooked any kind of way.

Yummy Yummy Yummy Yummy Yummy Yummy!

Marinade:

2/3 cup olive oil

6 garlic cloves, chopped fine (Okay. I may have used a little more)

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons finely grated peeled fresh gingerroot

1 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce

1 tablespoon crushed coriander seeds

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon dried hot red pepper flakes

Of course (as is the way I like to cook), the measurements are not set in stone. Adjust to taste. A dash of this, a bit more of that. You have to eat it, so adjust it at will.

Thank you Epicurious, and thank you Kathy Racher for showing me this great website so many years ago.

100 & Going Strong

Wow!

I made it to 100 posts! ONE HUNDRED!!! That’s a lot of blogging, I should think.

Through all the good, and all the bad, you’ve read, laughed at, commented on, and enjoyed (I hope) this little piece of Cyber Space I call a blog. Just a little piece of me that I like to share. Thanks for listening to my rants. Thanks for listening to my trials and tribulations. Thanks for sharing your insights and your laughter. Oh... and thanks for not verbally slandering my terrible jokes.

Let’s just see if I can make it to 200!

At the risk of causing jealousy amongst others, I dedicate this 100th post to The Philanthropist. He who always gives 100% to everyone else before himself. He who is so giving and genuine it makes me want to be a better person. He who helps he become the person that I want to be, and does not judge you when you fall; he only helps you up. He who has dedicated his life to the greater good and gives up all of his free time to fighting the good fight. If everyone were like him, the world would be a most beautiful place.

Don, you are a true friend, and I would be lost without you. I hope to, one day, be the kind of Executive Director you would be proud of.

Much love to you and to all that you do. It is through you and your ambition that I continue on in my journey to save the world and try to make it a better place.

You inspire me to no end, and I’m sure that it is true of countless others.

Cheers.

Perfect Long Weekend for a BBQ Pt 1:

Mid week I got an email from Kaara Kaara Bo Baara:

“Are you available for Sunday Salon this weekend?” After checking my schedule, I replied that I was, in fact, free to do some cheveux, and in three emails or less I was to be hosting a barbeque in her honour. There would be her, her friend The Lawyer (who cuts her own hair...gasp!), The Boyfriend (whom she’d never met), The Philanthropist (whom she’d known from our time in Yellowknife and plans to marry), and Cell Phone Boy (whom she’d met several times over and plans to hire as her pool boy).

Sunday morning saw me in a mad frenzy preparing for the perfect summer barbeque. I dashed too and fro with the perfect plan of attack:
- First stop... Goodwill to pick up my silent auction items. (A brilliant set of silver aperitif goblets for $10)
- Organic grocers for my produce and meats (which left much to be desired)
- Side Trip: My neighbourhood ‘No Frills’ to pick up remaining pesticide, herbicide and steroid laden produce and meats. (Now seating Bitter. Table for one.)
- Home to unpack groceries.
- Quick stop at the liquor store. (One can never have too much wine.)
-Home in time for a quick shower and ready to greet guests with a smile and a freshly toned face.

Kaara Kaara Bo Baara and The Lawyer (who cuts her own hair... gasp!) were the first to arrive. We spent a few minutes chatting and catching up before retiring to the patio for some Outdoor Sunday Salon. Once the highlights were placed, I found myself in the kitchen slicing and dicing a cornucopia of meats and vegetables.

The menu?
Herb and Garlic Chicken Breast.
Lemon and Garlic Shrimp Kebabs.
Ginger and Garlic Beef Kebabs. (See recipe in the 2 posts)
Sweet Barbequed Corn on the cob.
French loaf with Balsamic vinegar and Olive Oil.
And for dessert: Strawberries, Cantaloupe, and Cherries with chocolate covered Lady Fingers.
YUMMY!

Chopping completed (Both produce and Kaara Kaara Bo Baara’s hair) we relaxed for a few moments on the patio with the entire group. The Lawyer (who cuts her own hair.... gasp!) had made easy friends with the boys. K.K.B.B. and I walked into their little party and pulled up chairs and ashtrays (yes I was smoking... shut up). Then it happened…

Have you ever had a golden shower from a rodent?

First it was just one drop. “Oh no! It’s raining!” But the sky offered no clouds, only picture perfect blue. Then another drop. “It must be raining; I feel it on my legs.” But that was just ricocheted off the table. Then the stream started. Well, what could that be? It can’t be old rain just dripping off the trees; it’s not rained in days. After 30 seconds it stopped and we looked up to the trees. And, like a tidal wave, logic hit us all at once. A stupid squirrel had just peed on us. Right onto the table. He never asked permission. He never introduced himself to us. He didn’t buy us dinner first. He just assumed it would be okay. The nerve!

Being the homosexuals and Fruit Flies that we were, we were not about to let a little squirrel urine rain on our parade. Hell no! A quick wipe of the table a few fresh wine glasses and we were off.

Probably one of the nicest nights I’ve had all year. Six friends, some old, some new, sitting in the twilight enjoying great company and great conversation. A lot of laughs (we never did get over the whole squirrel pee thing), a lot of memories, a lot of great gay music (apparently, all of us had been to paradise, but we had never been to ‘Me’).

Many thanks to all of you for helping me enjoy my last month in my apartment. I shall miss it dearly, but shall cherish all the memories, like this past Sunday, forever. You are all true friends and I love you all.

But next time, we bring an umbrella.

A Sore For Sight Eyes.

Got these emailed to me the other day. Can you see both words in all three pictures?

Suspicions Confirmed.

I found a fun website yesterday.

Upload your picture and it scans your face and tells you which celebrity you look like. It’s a lot of fun, but can be insulting at times. Honestly Jason Briggs? WTF!

Here are my results:
Colin Ferrell: 72%
Johnny Depp: 60%
Jim Morrison: 55%
Sarah Silverman: 52%
Jason Briggs: 52%
Jared Leto: 50%

Try it for yourself: MyHeritage.com

And, do let me know who you resemble.