Lance Morrison

Teaching Rita

2008-08-13T12:53:00.001-04:00

I'm just posting this to show Rita how easy it is.

Maybe I will be birthing a NEW BLOOGER!!!

2008-03-04T11:00:00.001-05:00

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

2008-02-20T12:55:00.002-05:00

Between the words of Rumi and the beautiful imagery, that is brilliantly strung together, this is a stunning way to spend three-and-a-half minutes.

Enjoy.

First Glimpse

2007-10-28T17:39:00.000-04:00

Halloween was kicked off this weekend and here is the first picture of my costume.

This picture was taken at Pinky's "Put It In My Skull" Halloween Party. She did an amazing job or recreating Dr. Frank-N-Furter while I went for a more subdued Andy Warhol... bullet holes and all.

I hope everyone else's Halloween kickoff was as much fun as mine.

Learnding

2007-10-23T00:56:00.000-04:00

As much as I like to bitch about school and midterms and all sorts, I have always had a hunger for learning new things, and when I feel like I’ve not learned anything new for a while, I get kinda antsy.

No matter what it is, every few months or so I feel the need to learn a new... thing... something... anything. In the past few years it’s been Italian, line-dancing, swing dancing, Tap dancing, trapeze, hot yoga, Thai cooking, Italian cooking, Indian cooking, Non-profit management... the list goes on. Most often it’s something I’ve always thought would be interesting, but never got off my ass to do it... such is the case with my latest idea.

Last week I was chatting with Pinky (not to be confused with Her Royal Pinkness - 2 very different people) a co-worker at the salon I just started at (see GregMay in my links). I asked her if she would be interested in heading to trapeze class with me one night, and she said, “Sure. I do Poi, so why not?”

What the hell is Poi?

Upon further investigation, I learned what Poi was and, well, I’ve been kinda crazy about the idea ever since. When I first saw this technique during my last Madonna concert, I couldn’t help but think how fun it looked, and how amazing it would be to perform.

The skill...

The mindfulness...

The calm...

THE FIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, we’re working on plans. Pinky's gonna teach me some basics and then we’ll head to classes together every few weeks or so. I’m not planning on becoming an expert or a master, but I’m definitely gonna have a lot of fun trying.

Hmmmm... Maybe I won’t wear polyester on my class nights.

Old Magazine ads... Click image to enlarge.

2007-09-28T00:17:00.001-04:00

But, Mommy. Santa smokes Chesterfield. Why can't I?

Well thank god they're sanitized tapeworms. Otherwise that would just be gross.

I'm not even going to comment on that one.

But she looks so darn innocent.

And I hear that 'talkies' will be out soon enough, too.

I wonder if that statistic still holds true today.

This is the ad that turned me gay... and made me deathly afraid of public transit.

To hell with Prozac. Lard is so much cheaper.

Ha ha ha ha.... gross.

Four Weddings and a Funeral.

2007-08-26T22:25:00.000-04:00

It’s coming pretty close to the one year anniversary of The Croatian Sensations wedding, and I still have not written about it. Even though I promised her sister, Fat Girl (Her blog name, not what I call her... she is not a fat girl, nor would I ever call someone that) that I would write about it. Oh, how I planned it so thoroughly. Oh, how I selected the photos. Oh, how I never sat my ass down to get it all together.

Then, I went to another wedding. Another dear friend, in Edmonton.

Then another. Two great dentist friends here in Toronto.

Then, suddenly, a friend passed away.

And now, in five days, I will be cruising Lake Ontario and watching another friend wed the man of her dreams.

It’s just like the movie... in the same order too, I think.

So... we’re gonna do a quick All-In-One. No photos, just my words of love.

The Croatian Sensation & The Dog Whisper – September 23, 2006:

You are two very great people. Your wedding was beautiful, and I will remember it always. You looked beautiful... so did your bride (hee hee). Seriously, the whole day was so amazing; from you being late to your own place, right down to the drunken homosexual hairdresser that took over the dance floor (who was that, anyway?). I had a blast, and The Boyfriend and I still talk about what a perfect wedding it was. Hell, how many wedding do you get to go to and have 30 000 people cheer the first official presentation of The Bride & Groom. We thank you so much for having us there to be a part of your day.

Chris Squared – November 18, 2006:

I can’t even begin to tell you how special you made me feel by having me at your wedding. I was honoured that you felt so strongly about having me there. I often cried when I thought I was not going to be able to make it, but you guys made it possible. You are one of my oldest friends and you have always been such a brilliant source of joy and happiness in my life. Your wedding was so spectacular, but the whole week will be one that I will never forget. Meeting your friends, bonding with Little Guy, spending time with your family, watching your big, macho, heterosexual brother cry like a four year old sissy girl. It was all too perfect. I can never, ever thank you enough. (PS: Thank you so much for the beautiful watch. PPS: No matter what, I am always a phone call away.)

The Dentists – May 19, 2007:

My god! Was I ever sick! I felt like dying. Why the hell did I ever get a cold two days before your wedding? Everyone looked so gorgeous/handsome (even that groomsman who’s tux was too small) and I had snot running out of my nose and runny eyes - maybe people just thought I was crying a lot. It was amazing to watch you both be so relaxed about the whole thing for the past year and a half, and so nonchalant, but then have the evening turn out so spectacular. You are both wonderful people and I am honoured to call you friends. I wish you both all the happiness and love you have shown me. (PS: Thank you so much for the beautiful watch – I must start a collection. PPS: Sorry for breaking your crystal.)

Yvon – July 29, 2007:

As soon as I typed your name I began to cry. You were such a great friend. Not just me, but the world lost a great person the day we lost you. I may have never shown it, or shown it enough, but I truly loved you and will miss you dearly. I learned so much from you about love, generosity, compassion, optimism, and... Well... Russian Martial Arts and how I’ll NEVER participate in that. You were a truly selfless and generous person. I’d give anything to have another fight with you, just so we could hug and make up the next day. I’ve not gone a day without thinking about you in the past month. I see you several times a day, and dream about you most nights. I hope you are well. I hope you are relaxing. I love you; Always will. Please know that we’ll always be on your side. We know the truth, and have always believed you. We’ll keep you alive in our hearts forever.

M & M – September 01, 2007:

I simply cannot wait for this weekend. It’s funny how you keep coming back into my life. You are such a beautiful person, and can’t even begin to say how happy I am that you and your Prince Charming are finally coming together. It’s been a long time coming. Congratulations. I’ll see you Saturday.

From Bitter Searching Of The Heart.

2007-08-11T21:24:00.000-04:00

Well, I’ve finally gone and done it. You’ve all heard me talking the talk for a good while now, but it if now official.

I am enrolled at Ryerson University in Toronto. September 10th will see me in a classroom, for the first time in almost 11 years. September 10th is my first day of school, and my first day as part of their Non-Profit & Voluntary Sector Management Program. On September 10th, Lancey is wenting to skool!

Not that I want to talk myself up or anything, but I’m pretty fucking proud of myself. For the past year and a half I’ve been trying to get my Métis status in order so that I could apply for grants (As you may well know, I don’t have a spare $4000 lying around that I could have used). Well, I’ve received very little (read: no) help from the guy that I’ve been waiting on, so I just said, ‘Screw it!’ I’m just going to take this one course at a time. Until I can get a grant, I will just pay for my classes and books one at a time, with any spare tips and cash.

I’ve been trying so hard for the past year and a half to get into the Non-Profit Sector, but nobody would look at my resume. Even though I have excellent experience in management, public relations, trade shows, education, etc (not to mention an intense passion), when you boil it down, I’m a hairdresser. That’s all I’ve done for a decade and I think people wouldn’t look past that.

So here I go. I’m taking this one step at a time, and on my way to saving the world! Fuck anyone who says it can’t be done. Every journey starts with a single step... or some shit like that.

In the magnificent words of Leonard Cohen:

From bitter searching of the heart,

Quickened with passion and with pain

We rise to play a greater part.

This is the faith from which we start:

Men shall know commonwealth again

From bitter searching of the heart.

We loved the easy and the smart,

But now, with keener hand and brain,

We rise to play a greater part.

The lesser loyalties depart,

And neither race nor creed remain

From bitter searching of the heart.

Not steering by the venal chart

That tricked the mass for private gain,

We rise to play a greater part.

Reshaping narrow law and art

Whose symbols are the millions slain,

From bitter searching of the heart

We rise to play a greater part.

-Villanelle For Our Time

I WILL rise... to play a better part. I’ll be damned if I will die and be remembered for being just a hairstylist.

I will make change.

Confessions of a Nomad: No Longer a Suburban HouseHusband.

2007-07-18T21:16:00.001-04:00

After a long day at work, and a longer one the night before (we left the office last night at 3:30am) I am at The Philanthropists’ house, with my Starbucks, my computer and Damien Rice.

Funny; I can’t really call it “The Philanthropists’ house”, because I now live here. However, it’s not really my place, so I can’t really call it ‘mine’ or ‘our’ place either. I’m a nomad. I have no home. I have no place. This is where I now hang my hat, but it’s really a couch that I occupy, free of rent. I’m homeless.

I sit, listening to Damien Rice, and thinking about the most recent events of my life. Things have been over here and over there for months, but still, no where in particular. I feel like I’ve been living in a snow globe, and every once in a while, some curious child picks me up and shakes my world into a flurry. Over my shitty speakers, ‘The Animals Were Gone’ plays into my ears, as I play my third game of Mah-jong…

“I know I've been a liar and I know I've been a fool

I hope we didn't break yet, but I'm glad we broke the rules

My cave is deep now, yet your light is shining through

I cover my eyes, still all I see is you

Oh I know that I left you in places of despair

Oh I know that I love you, so please throw down your hair

At night I trip without you, and hope I don't wake up

'Cause waking up without you is like drinking from an empty cup”

Have I lost you yet? Okay. Three days ago I moved out of the fabulous apartment that I shared with The Boyfriend, and moved in with The Philanthropist. We’ve not broken up, we’re just not going to live together for a while.

Unorthodox?
Yes?

Uncommon?
Definitely.

Impossible?
Not at all.

No need to explain reasons, and go into dull details, but I really wanted to be back downtown, and The Boyfriend really wanted to stay in our area. There was no compromise that worked for both of us, so he bought beautiful condo a few blocks from our apartment, and I have moved back downtown.

I’ve decided that there was no need in taking some shitty apartment, just because it was affordable, but also, couldn’t yet afford to move into a place that was a bit more… me. This is where Philanthropist steps in; He offered me his couch for as long as I need it, and office space to store all my furniture.

So… there you have it. I’m a Nomad. I have no home. I have no familiar furniture around me. I have a suitcase of clothing and a duffel bag of shoes. I’ve lost my beautiful view, but I’ve gained back 16 hours a week that I don’t need to spend on public transit. Let’s call it even.

So, as I sit now, the rain is pouring outside, The Dog & The Cat are watching me with hopes of treats, The Philanthropist is at the gym, and I’m sitting here listening to music and hearing it with my heart, as well as my ears.

Isn’t it funny how exterior circumstances can influence how you read things?

“I know I've been a liar and I know I've been a fool”

Sorry I’ve been an ass lately. Seems like for the past seven months I’ve been going through so much shit and I’ve been frustrated. It’s not fair for me to take it out on you.

“I hope we didn't break yet, but I'm glad we broke the rules”

As unconventional as the situation is, we know it can work. It takes a really strong relationship to be able to separate without separating. As odd as it feels, I am finally feeling like I am back on track with my life, and that what I want is now possible. I see my future - our future - crystal clear for the first time in a long time, and THAT is making me happy.

“My cave is deep now, yet your light is shining through”

Funny. I was confident in this situation when I proposed it, and you were unsure. As the date drew closer, I lost my confidence and yours went up. Coming out of a depression, I got scared and dove right back in, really deep, but your optimism and attitude this past week has really helped me see the silver lining and the possibilities.

“I cover my eyes, still all I see is you”

I can’t really explain this without getting to personal, but… it’s good.

What’s next? Who knows? Who cares? Right now, all is good, and that’s what really matters.

Happy Summer Solstice

2007-06-21T09:33:00.001-04:00

Oh yeah… by the way. Today is the longest day of the year, so try to get out there and enjoy the sun. Tomorrow it starts getting darker every day… that is, until December 21 when the days start to get longer.

Soak it in. The Vitamin D is good for your health.

Lame Excuses.

2007-06-21T09:25:00.000-04:00

Hey all,

Sorry for being so aloof lately. It’s been over a month since I wrote anything, and most of that was just Cut & Paste.

There’s been a tonne of crap happening, and I just don’t have the energy to sit and write about any of it. I’ve also not been reading anyone else’s blog; please don’t hate me for not commenting. I barely respond to emails anymore either.

Sometimes you just need a break from stuff, and I just need to focus on all that is going on, so I’m barely around the computer enough to formulate sentences and find pictures and edit, and post and yadda yadda yadda.

Basically:

- Mom is well, but there are a series of problems.
- The Boyfriend and I are moving in a few weeks: Him to a condo, and me downtown.
- The Dentist and his (former) fiancée are now husband a wife.
- Made a weekend trip to Waterloo to visit a friend.
- Had visits from three out of town friends.
- My new job got made permanent and I got a raise, more hours, and a mini-promotion.
- My brother has moved to Ontario.
- The salon went under major renovations, and things have been EXTREMELY busy since then.
- Pride Week is here and there are 1395 things that I am doing.
- I bought a bike and do an hours ride every other day or so.
- I need a vacation.

So, I realize that doesn’t count as a post, but that’s all you get. More later… just not sure when.

Chao,

Lance

Sound Fun?

2007-05-16T23:54:00.000-04:00

An aorto-bifemoral bypass is an operation in which grafts (artificial tubes) are sutured into place to bypass an area of the aorta and/or the iliac artery which is narrowed or blocked.

Reasons for Procedure:
To have good blood flow to the lower part of the body, there must be good blood flow through the aorta, the iliac arteries, and the femoral arteries.

Atherosclerosis is a disease in which sticky patches (plaques) of calcium, fibrous tissue, and cholesterol build up along the walls of blood vessels. These plaques block the normal flow of blood within affected blood vessels. When the blood flow is decreased, the tissues on the other side of the blockage do not receive adequate oxygen. This can result in the following:
-Pain, which increases the longer you walk or exercise
-Cold feet/legs
-Scaly, dry, reddened, itchy, or brown skin of the legs/feet
-Non-healing and/or infected sores (ulcers) in the skin of your legs or feet
-Gangrene
-Amputation of gangrenous limbs
-Nerve damage

Description of the Procedure:
After you are well-anesthetized, a large incision will be made in your abdomen. The blood vessels that need to be operated on lie deep in many of your internal organs, so these organs will need to be carefully moved out of the way.

Blood flow through the vessels that are going to be operated on will be briefly stopped with clamps on either side of the area of blockage. A graft made of artificial material will be sewn into place on either the iliac artery or the femoral artery, in an area clear of obstructive plaque. The other end of the graft will be attached to the aorta just above the area where the blockage begins.

The clamps that were placed on the blood vessels being operated on will be removed. The surgeon will observe briefly to ensure that there is good blood flow through the new graft. Your internal organs will be repositioned properly. The abdominal muscle will be pulled together and stitched closed. The skin incision will be closed with either sutures or staples.

Possible Complications:
- Infection of the incision site or the graft itself
- Obstruction of the new graft by blood clots
- Bleeding
- Complications from anaesthesia
- Pneumonia
- Scarring
- Heart attack
- Stroke

Outcome:
You can expect to resume your normal activities within about six weeks of surgery. There is expected to be a dramatic improvement in your overall ability to walk or exercise compared to your preoperative state. You should follow your doctor’s directions regarding when you can begin to drive, exercise, lift things, and otherwise exert yourself.

**********
Want a little more detail? Check out http://healthlibrary.epnet.com/

And that pretty much sums up mom’s surgery.

I will write a little more about my week there and what’s happening now (she needs to get part of the surgery re-done tomorrow, due to infection) and all that. But for now, I just need rest; It’s been a very busy and stressful few weeks (months).

PS: Thanks to everyone for your prayers and wishes and all sorts. They mean a lot to me and to my mom. Much Love & Light to you all.

I Don't Wanna Grow Up!!!

2007-05-03T01:58:00.000-04:00

Little boys always look up to their mothers. Big brown eyes filled with amazement at everything that Domestic Goddess does. We sit in silent admiration and watch as they magically make hurt go away with one kiss. We watch them work countless hours to provide for us. We argue when we’re both “right”, but secretly we both know that there is only one real opinion… hers; we’d never admit this, but we know it.

Women give up everything for their children. No more weekends with the girls. No more staying to work extra hours. No more movie nights alone. Finishing a novel within a month is an impossability. Minimum of 18 years of not getting to sleep in… to REALLY sleep in.

And on top of all this, they have little shit boys who need to learn how to grow up and deal with life’s ups and downs, but can never let go. No matter what age, no matter what they’re going through, they still have to be strong… for their kids.

For the last several months (and years) my mom has had some pretty major problems with her legs but was never given a clear diagnosis. "It could be this. It could be that." Bullshit. For years now, she has not been able to walk for more than three minutes before her legs go completely numb and she’s basically paralysed for a few minutes until feeling returns. Then the cycle starts all over again.

Finally the problem is discovered and they note that, “If only this had been diagnosed a few years ago, it would be so much easier to treat.” Well shit, really? Who knew that our Heath Care System should actually involve Patient Care?

After about six years, the problem is realized and a simple procedure is booked (this was this past January). Ooops, the problem is too far along for the simple procedure to take place. So now, instead of a simple day surgery, and a couple of weeks of recovery, my mom gets to go in for a by-pass and a YEAR off work. Recovery will take weeks… of hospital time alone. Not to mention the months of sitting at home in pain… and who know what else.

Tomorrow morning my mom is going for surgery. Exactly 12 hours from the time I am typing this sentence, she will be cut open from her belly button to her mid-thighs (wish-bone incision). Fibreglass arteries will be put into her body, and her human arteries will be left in, but rendered useless… left to decompose into her system. She will spend the next year of her life sitting at home, and training herself to walk again. She’ll need help doing the smallest things until she is fully able to live a normal and dignified life again.

And the whole time this is happening, SHE is the one who is having to console ME and tell ME not to worry. I haven’t been able to talk to her for months without crying or yelling or getting all kinds of upset. She’s not cried once to me… not even once. She gives ME the hugs. She offers ME support. She acts as MY therapy.

I am flying to Edmonton to spend a week with her in hospital. I’ll get there as soon as she gets out of the ICU (hopefully) and help her keep her legs active and mostly to keep her spirits up. But I have only promised to go if she promised to be there on Monday. She has never broken a promise to me, so I’ll be dammed if she’s gonna break this one. She’ll be there, and she’ll be high, and she’ll be sleepy, and she’ll be in a lot of pain… but she’ll fucking be there. Alive. Right?

I’m doing this for her, but I’m also doing it for me. I need to grow up and finally take over the wheel. I need to let me mom be an adult again and let her regain some sort of freedom without having me still latched onto her breast. Physically and metaphorically, she will be able to walk freely once again.

I love you mom. Good luck tomorrow, and know that I am always thinking about you. Hell... you been through it with me, I can do it for you. Trust me; Major-high-risk-surgery is no scarier than meeting your first drag queen... and you tackled five in one night.

Shit I'm scared

Joyeux Anniversaire, Mon Ami!

2007-04-27T01:31:00.000-04:00

So young, and yet so wise.

Happy Birthday to Cell Phone Boy. 26 years old, and S-M-R-T-er than men twice his age...

And a hell of a lot more fun.

I can't really say anything about him that I've not said before, so I won't I'll just-

Piece Of Cake

2007-04-09T23:25:00.000-04:00

It seems that every few years or so, a large slew of friends gets a brush with fame. Three years ago my friend Zozo got invited to a closed audition with P!nk. One of only 20 North American Girls, and the only one from Canada. Another friend who designs leather accessories was getting recognized nationally and yet another friend started getting major movie deals.

Well, it’s that time again. As you read last week, my friend Leela was nominated for, AND WON, a Juno. Zozo's new CD, 'Essence of Life', is taking off. And my friend The Halfaneese has become a YouTube Star.

You see, The Halfaneese was quite a pastry chef. He created the most beautiful cookies and cakes that you could imagine, not to mention a long list of other delectable’s. Two and a half years ago he filmed a pilot for his own TV show, 'Piece of Cake', and things were looking up. The show was sent to a major network, but sadly, there was a ‘changing of the guards’ of sorts… one executive went out, one came in… and The Halfaneesees pilot was placed on a shelf.

Well, due to the creation of YouTube, buzz has been starting all over. The producers of the show have put it up for the world to see and within hours people all over the world were blogging about it… not to mention the chit chat about his whole portfolio. And now it’s my turn…

Here is a link to the first quarter of the pilot episode where The Halfaneese consults a man about a cake he is going to create for a surprise party. HE MAKES MANN’S GRAUMAN'S CHINESE THEATRE!!!! OUT OF CAKE!!!! It’s simply amazing.

(Click Photo For Video)

I had the privilege of getting my dear one to make a cake for my birthday. Those of you who have seen ‘Steel Magnolias’ will catch the reference and joke, those of you who have not seen it… go watch it and look at these pictures again.

“Is Armadilla’s all you make?”

“Oh no. I can make all kinds of animals… Except snakes; I don’t have the counter space.”

“It looks like an autopsy.”

Anyway… when you have twenty spare minutes, watch the pilot. It is so worth it. You will be amazed at what this guy can do. Also, don’t forget to check out his portfolio… Armand The Armadilla is featured! And Her Royal Pinkness's Fluvlog shoes. And that Barbie cake… and the Little Abner cake… and the Star Wars Cookie.

It’s all too much. I’m getting a cavity just thinking about it.

Happy Easter!

2007-04-08T12:59:00.000-04:00

Sure this is old, but I still laugh and laugh each time I see it.
Oh how I laugh.

No Joke...

2007-04-01T12:20:00.000-04:00

I have been sitting at the computer for a good 45 minutes, trying to think of a good April Fool’s Day prank to post, but nothing decent has come to me.

I did start writing a story about my cocaine/meth/crack addiction, but then I though that might be in poor taste to anyone who might have really lived through one. I was gonna write about my desire for a sexual-organ-reassignment surgery, but then I thought that would be far to out there. I was going to write about my finding Jesus this week and devoting my life to doing His work, but then I lost interest. So I have no April Fool’s post for you today; and that’s no joke.

However, I did get a text message from The Boyfriend saying that a dear friend of mine just won a Juno. At first, I thought this to be a joke on me, but after researching online for the past 10 minutes, I learned it to be true.

Congratulations Leela. You’re the rockingest rocker that ever rocked!

For any of you that may not have heard Leela’s music, click here for her MySpace page to listen to some songs and download one for free.

In the past, Leela has been nominated at the Juno Awards for "Best Music of Aboriginal Canada (2003)" and has won three awards in 2002 from the Canadian Aboriginal Music Awards: Best Female Artist, Best Folk Album, Best Songwriter. This weekends Juno Award adds wonderfully to that pile.

Other Leela Links:
Official Site
MySpace
Wikipedia

Just For Laughs.

2007-03-28T00:21:00.000-04:00

What about Britney...
In the Rehab Center...
With the razor?

Or Anna Nicole...
With the...
Oh never mind. Too soon.

Got any other's you can think of?

Confessions of a Suburban HouseHusband Pt.4: Working Girl

2007-03-13T00:51:00.000-04:00

Today I started my new part-time job!

As you know, I have been on a long quest to break into the world of Not-For-Profit / Charity work, but have had very little success. And, of course, by ‘very little success’, I mean no success at all. Over the past 14 months, I have sent out over 40 resumes, with not so much as a bite. And I have been in a 10 month battle to get my Métis Status card reissued (I lost it in NYC three years ago) so that I can apply for grants and such to go to school and study Fundraising & Volunteer Management… and battle is the only word I can think of.

Well, finally, I got my card last week and will be using it to its full advantage, hopefully by the fall. And just the other day I got a call from my dear friend, The Philanthropist and he was offering me a job.

This may only be a temporary position, but it will last at least three months. The possibility is there for this to turn into a bigger position, with more responsibility and more workload, and even a completely different title, but that depends on the next few months.

Right now I will be doing reception/ office coordination/ data entry/ general-office-busy-body things 2 days a week. The position is being reconfigured and we’re gonna work together to see what is needed and not needed from the job and from me. The wage is good (Actually, compared to sitting around the house doing laundry and cooking, the wage if pretty fucking great) and more importantly, I am getting immeasurable experience in an industry that I long to be a part of.

As it was my first day, I’m not sure what it will be turning into, but be sure that you will be hearing more stories in the next few months.

I’m on my way people. A year after I started on this journey, things are starting to happen. Look out.

Birthday with a 'B'!

2007-03-13T00:18:00.000-04:00

61 years ago today Liza Minnelli tap danced her way into our hearts and she hasn't been sober since.

Honestly, I jest and poke fun, but it's all harmless. Liza has had such trouble in her life, especially her later years, but she keeps on going. She has such a great stamina and enough endurance to live a thousand lives.

She has quit drinking (“It’s Gatorade... Trust me.”), but the stroke has left her a little worse for wear. Yet years later, I had the chance to see her twice in as many months and she still held her own on the stage. She’s got more energy and pizzazz than most young starlets of our time.

Truly one of the best entertainers of our time, I wish her many more years of fun and laughter.

Happy Birthday Liza.

Time Waster

2007-03-08T09:45:00.000-05:00

Sunday nights has a large portion of The Usual Suspects rotating between each others homes watching Grey’s Anatomy and Desperate Housewives. Sure Grey’s was switched to Thursdays, but that’s not a problem for us, as we are probably the only six households left in North America that still own VCR’s.

These are the only two TV shows that I watch. Sure I'm intrigued by "Hero's" and "Lost" and always think I should watch them, but I never get around to it. With the exception of watching TV on DVD (Family Guy, Golden Girls, Quantum Leap, Kids In The Hall, etc) it all comes down to these two.

Anyway, I came across this little time waster via Lisa’s Blog, and thought I’d share it with you.

Take This Quiz to see which of the Grey’s Anatomy girls you are.

I’m Meredith!
You don’t always make the right choices, but you get points for trying, bouncing back, and starting over. For being so “dark and twisty,” you have a surprisingly sunny outlook on life. You’re quick to jump into new relationships but just as quick to jump out. After the example your parents set, learning to trust someone else takes just about everything you’ve got.

Take This Quiz to see which Desperate Housewife you are(If you sign in as a boy, you will be told which housewife you would marry. BORING!)

I'm Susan!
You always mean well, but somehow things don’t always work out as you’d planned. It doesn’t matter. You take your tumbles with good grace and always come up smiling. But try to remember you’re the grown-up in your family.

I’m pretty happy with those results, as I genuinely like and understand each character. However, there is one small problem… they are The Boyfriends LEAST favorite character on each of their respective shows.

Why couldn’t I be Dr. Torres and Bree instead?

Good Idea!

2007-03-07T17:48:00.000-05:00

Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could.

Some blunders and absurdities crept in. Forget them as soon as you can.

Tomorrow is a new day; you should begin in serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Welcome to San Fran... uh, I mean Calgary.

2007-03-05T12:37:00.000-05:00

Note: This was written last Wednesday, but couldn't post it until today.
**********

Here I am, on an Air Canada Jazz flight from Calgary to Yellowknife, and I still can’t get over lunch. I’m not talking about indigestion here (although I’m not sure a Chili’s Bacon Burger was a wise choice in the middle of a day of flying).

No, I’m talking about how GAY Calgary can be. And the funny thing is; I’m not even sure that Calgary knows it. I should note that my entire argument revolves around the music; not the beauty of the city… or the hair… or the clothing (sweet God- not the clothing!).

I was sitting in ‘Chili’s Texas Style Grill’, trying to waste time on my 2 hour layover. After ordering my burger and sipping my Coke, I discovered myself doing something that I never thought I would do in Calgary, Alberta… I was singing along to the radio.

“Ooooo Baby, do you know what that’s worth? Oooo Heaven is a place on earth.” Oh my. Did anyone hear me, or was I just singing into my head. My first thought was that I couldn’t believe how old the music was. How out of date is this radio station, that they are playing Belinda Carlisle’s hit from 198?, during a prime listening time.

Then the next song came over the system.
Bette Middler- Wind Beneath my Wings. Then….
Irene Cara- What A Feeling (Flashdance Theme). Then…
Cyndi Lauper- Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Then…
Depeche Mode- Tainted Love. Then…
Kylie Minogue- Locomotion. Then…
B-52s- Love Shack. Then, Finally…
The Clash- Should I Stay, or Should I go. Which had to be the song most closely related to heterosexuality, but I must admit, a song I like singing and dancing along to every time I hear it in a bar.

I sat, contemplating my surroundings, my completed lunch, my looming boarding time, and the songs lyrics and thought, “Should I stay, or should I go.” I figured I had just enough time for a cigarette (Shut up) before getting on my plane so I decided I should go, not stay.

As I’m getting on my jackets (I’m heading to Yellowknife, I need two) the final song that I would be treated to got underway…

“Papa, I know you’re going to be upset, ‘cause I was always your little girl”…because, what gay playlist would be complete without a mid-eighty’s hit from our own iconic Material Girl.

It felt like I was at a Drag Show. It was far too kitsch to be unintentional. Far too campy to be accidental. Every song bled into each other with a perfect fluidity. Then I think… I’m in Bloody Calgary! Alberta!

Canada’s Bible-belt. Red Neck County. Belt buckles to rival wrestling champions and 10 Gallon Hats. More pick-up trucks than people. Toronto has Blue Bins everywhere, Calgary has White Trash. What’s with the Fag Discotheque music?

Who knows? An hour and a half into my flight, I still can’t figure it out. My closest guess is that the gay mafia has secretly taken over the radio waves in an attempt to brainwash the Conservative Right into fighting for our rights too. Some big joke we’re playing on Stephen Harper, Stockwell Day, and Ralph Klein.

Watch out boys. If you’re not careful, you might end up in fishnet stockings at a Rocky Horror Picture Show screening, throwing toast at the screen and yelling “SAY IT!”

*****SPECIAL NOTE***** To all my friends in Calgary and the rest of Alberta. I take a little creative license here. I really exercised extremes in this post, but trust that I really don’t feel that poorly against Calgary. It is a pretty city and not everyone is White Trash. I mean, we’re not talking about Red Deer here.

I Got A Hug Today!

2007-02-23T01:44:00.000-05:00

Now, you’re probably saying to yourself, “Big deal! Who didn’t get a hug today?” And you’re right. In fact, I got several hugs today myself, but one was special. That one was a real hug.

“Gimme a hug. You ARE important to me.” I won’t go into all the details surrounding it, but it meant a lot to me, and the person that gave it to me means a lot to me and I really appreciated it. I cried after I walked out the door.

Why all the fuss? Well, I actually don’t like hugging. Well, truthfully, it’s not that I don’t like hugging; I just don’t like to throw them around a lot. I feel that hugs are super intimate, and that they should be reserved for certain occasion. I think that hugs are just tossed here and there so much that they are beginning to lack in the “Emotions Department”. Maybe it’s just me.

In high school, I was a little more vocal about it, and flat out refused hugs. If someone was coming at me – arms outstretched – I would just hold my hand out in proper ‘Supremes’ fashion and say, “Ah ah ah ah ah… I don’t hug.” Maybe I have a fear of intimacy. Maybe I have emotional difficulties. Or maybe I’m right.

I do enjoy a good hug, just not everyday, twelve times a day.

During my time in Yellowknife, I never hugged my clients, except when I was moving and saying goodbye. Then it felt right- but even then, it was only a few clients that I hugged. Here in Toronto, hugs are almost a law. Every client needs one before they walk down the stairs. I sometimes wonder what would happen if I didn’t; if I ran like Forrest Gump to the other side of the salon and hid by the dryers. What if they fell down the stairs and I had only me to blame.

And then on the social scene; you have a hug when you run into someone. A hug when someone comes over. A hug when they leave. A hug when you’re just running to the bar to get another martini. “I’m going for a pee. Gimme a hug!” The list goes on.

You never see me hug Cell Phone Boy, and he’s my best friend. We’ll hug everyone else at the end of the party, but we give each other a wave and a “Goodnight. Call me tomorrow.” We just never have. I can probably count on my fingers the amount of hugs we’ve given each other.

And then there’s John Boy. John Boy is a new addition to our circle of friends; ever since he started dating The Great Scot in November. He’s a great guy and a lot of fun. I really, truly like him… but I’ve never hugged him. Much like Cell Phone Boy, he gets a wave and a “Goodnight. Thanks for coming over / having us over.” I feel bad that I’ve never told him that I am a ‘non-hugger’ at heart. At this point, it would feel odd to start… and that can be added to the fact that a hug is odd for me to begin with. I hope he understands and doesn’t just think I’m a dickhead. Maybe he’s a non-hugger too.

Now, I feel caution setting in as I think about all my friends that read my blog… friends I hug. Please don’t be offended. It’s not you, it’s me. Hugs are expected and given around and it’s really a beautiful thing. They by no means make me uncomfortable (unless they were nude hugs… we all know how I feel about nudity), I am just happy to be with or without them.

I assume that not everyone feels the same way, and most people actually receive some sort of emotional boost after each and every hug. Not me. I like the reserved ones. I like the ones that are perfect for the moment.

I liked when I hugged my friend who just lost her father.

I liked when I hugged The Boyfriend after we got back together.

I liked when I hugged Webbie (a great client, and an even greater friend) after we both cried during a haircut.

I liked when I hugged The Bride just before she walked down the aisle.

I liked when I got my hug tonight.

These are hugs I will remember for the rest of my life.

Thanks for tonight. It meant a lot to me.
I love you.

Just So we're All Clear....

2007-02-14T23:50:00.000-05:00

I hate being forced to do things.

I'm a guy. Gay or not, I am a guy. And guys, as a group / not a rule, are not all that open to change. After 150 posts (hey... this is #150 for me!!!) I have been forced into switching and opening up a google account... or something. I'm not all that sure what I've done, but I put my name here and there and typed a password or something. Anyway... I hate that I was forced into it.

For months, blogger.com has been asking me to switch and I just kindly said, "No thank you" and we went about our merry way... until tonight. I was just trying to upload that cute, innocent Valentines Day article, and it took me ten minutes to figure out what the heck was going on.

I'm sure that the "NEW" Blogger is infinitely better and there are all sort of bells and whilstles included, but I don't feel the need for all that. I want to have the choice. If I am not going to be using said bells and whistles, why do I need to get a Google or Gmail password? I am trying to simplify my life, not make it more complicated with all sorts of new posting... thingy's and what-not.

I would assume that Google just bought out Blogger, but then why is it that when I am typing this post, the word "Google" still comes up as misspelled?

Ahhhh. Just venting, that's all. Back to Kids in the Hall.

Vanentine's Day Giggle!

2007-02-14T23:48:00.000-05:00

(Click Image to Enlarge)

Look What I Got!!!

2007-02-07T10:02:00.000-05:00

I have a niece!
I have a niece!
I’m better than everyone
In the whole world, cause
I have a niece!

My family is no good at keeping things secret. You tell one person something and we all just can’t wait to get it out. Usually, we won’t tell the secret, but we will hint and prod… subtlety is not our strong point.

So, many months ago, I get a random email from my mother.

“I can’t say why or anything, but you should email your brother. Right Away!
-Love, Mom”

So I thought to myself right away… “Hmmm. I guess Sister-in-law in pregnant.” Suspicions confirmed about a week later when my brother finally responded to my email.

And now…

Meet Sherra: Princess of all things Morrison. There are already two Princes in our family and now we have our first girl (Present company excluded, of course).

Welcome Sherra. I can’t wait to meet you in a few weeks. And to hold you in my arms. And to tell you how wonderful you are. And to gently kiss your forehead. And to tell you how lucky you are to have such wonderful and loving people as parents… not to mention a pretty fabulous Grandma, Aunt and Uncle (that last one is me). I just can’t wait.

Shit. Now I’m crying.

Welcome Home From The Hospital!

2007-02-07T09:45:00.000-05:00

Well, I’m up and running again. And better than ever!

Basically, my computer had a virus (or twelve) and (what I didn’t realize) the cooling fan was completely caked with gunk. Dr. Computer-Fixer-Guy said it had nothing to do with dust… something smaller… particles in the air, cigarette smoke etc. I have no idea, but that is why my computer was crashing... It was too hot.

But now… now it is brilliant. I have great anti-virus software; all sorts of new programs and I have no annoying fan screaming at me every time I try to update my iPod. I also had a lot of work to do…

To fix my computer, Dr. Computer-Fixer-Guy had to erase everything off my computer… all my files and my “hard drive” something and whatever else. Basically he made it just a bunch of wires and their shell. Then he cleaned it out (The fan gunk) and reloaded everything back onto my computer… with extras.

What I didn’t get him to do, was save all my other files for me. For an extra $50, I figured I could go through my photos, music, porn (sorry Mom), and writing and save them myself, which I did the entire week before I sent it away. The computer was gone less than 24hrs, but I had to spent the next week reloading everything back onto my computer… my photo’s, music, porn (sorry Mom) and writing back onto the hard drive.

So now here I am… “new” computer and nothing left to bitch about. But lots to talk about! There have been a few things happening in the last few weeks that I could love to share with you… a few births, a loss, a beard & a trip to the cottage.

Read on…

When Enough is Enough, You Have To Move On!

2007-01-28T16:10:00.000-05:00

After months of headaches and grief, I have finally had enough. I’ve been living with his moodiness and tantrums for too long now, and it’s finally going to be over. I am tired of constant yelling, headaches and frustration. It’s done. I give up!

Not to say that it’s over for good, but I’m just sending him away for a bit to get better, and I will not let him back into my home until he learns to treat me with the respect I deserve… after all I’ve done for him over the past three years. I’ve tried to fix our problems myself, but he is completely unresponsive. I’m breaking down and insisting on professional help.

Yes people, you heard me. You’ve heard me talking about our problems in the past. But too many times I’ve been fooled into thinking “This time. Yes, this time things will be different. Things are all fixed, and there will be no more problems!” Well don’t I have egg on my face now.

So today I am finally giving in. I am throwing in the towel and giving up...

My computer is going into the shop for repairs.

By tomorrow night I should have a smooth running laptop that doesn’t crash and burn every time I try and do… anything. It’ll be just like it was in the old days, when we were both so young and fresh.

Confessions of a Suburban HouseHusband-Pt. Three: Telemarketers Most Foul.

2007-01-19T12:03:00.000-05:00

Normally, I don’t really mind telemarketers. I usually listen to their spiel then tell them I don’t really need one/already have one/already support/etc. A few times, when asked to take part in a survey, I have asked them to call me back in twenty minutes when I had time… and when they call back, I answer and take the survey. I am most polite that way.

Well, lately, I have begun to get upset with the discrimination that I have been facing from said telemarketers. Everyday, I answer at least two phone calls from telemarketers for the boyfriend.

Me: “Good morning.”
Them: “Good morning sir. Is Mr. Jones home?” (I have changed The Boyfriends last name to something more generic to protect out anonymity.)
Me: “I’m sorry. He’s at work.”
Them: “Is there a Mrs. Jones?”
Me: “Well, there's no Mrs. Jones, but I am his partner.”
Them: “Nevermind. We’ll call back.”

WHAT THE F*CK?!!??! If they are okay to talk to his wife, why not me? I’m the one that washes and irons his underpants.

Once, about a week ago, the call came from a really queeny gay sounding man, and even he did the same thing. I wanted to say, “Look here Mister Sister! I’m your brethren… what gives?”… but then I didn’t. I was already running late for work, and didn’t have time for his shtick anyway.

Maybe, just maybe, if I start wearing a wig I can get the respect a Suburban HouseHusband deserves!

Inconvenient Truths

2007-01-10T23:58:00.000-05:00

I love The National (for those of you that are not familiar with it, The National is The CBC’s nightly news program.). LOVE it. I’ll admit that I have been not watching it as much as I used to… say about 10 times in the past three years, but I still love it.

There’s no celebrity gossip. No cheesy anchor-persons. Just Peter. That’s really all we need. Peter and a complete range of Canadian news… not entirely focused on one part of Canada and neglecting others.

Just tonight I mentioned to The Boyfriend that I wanted to start watching it more often… like a few times a week at least. I miss being in the know. So tonight we shared the TV and switched between “Ladykillers” and The National.

Very interesting instalment of The National tonight. Most of the show was dedicated to Canada’s weird weather this winter.

Also for those of you who may not be familiar, Canada has been having wild weather this winter. Everywhere, from coast to coast to coast. Where is should be raining, it’s snowing. Where there should be snow, we have rain. Even where weather is ‘right’ the temperatures are way above average.

This is a five minute clip from tonight’s broadcast. It mentions a bit of Elsmere Island (high in the arctic) that broke off a year and a half ago. Not too big of a piece… just the SIZE OF MANHATTAN!!!! It just broke off and melted into the Arctic Ocean.

You may need to have Real Media Player to watch it, but if this link doesn’t work, you can find it on the CBC Website at cbc.ca

No. No. You’re right. There’s no such thing as climate change.

help

Happy Blog-iversary To Me!

2007-01-10T12:25:00.000-05:00

Oh my gosh... I just realized that today is my Blog-iversary. One year to the day of my first post on Blogger. What a year it has been!

Here, in a brief summary (and an idea I have stolen from Lisa) is the first sentence of each months first post (is that even good English?)

January 2006: My friend, cell phone boy, has a perfect roommate.

February 2006: Wow! I got off to such a good start with this whole blogging thing, and now . . . now it's all shit.

March 2006: I just saw the most disgusting thing on the bus this morning.

April 2006: “It’s not you, it’s me!”

May 2006: The love, The echoes of long ago, You needed the world to know, They are in Xanadu.

June 2006: Yeah, so it’s been a while.

July 2006: Inspired be Fat Girl’s post about knowing what you want to be when you grow up, I thought I’d share some musings of my own.

August 2006: I found a fun website yesterday.

September 2006: Special Post Note: All time breaks will be noted with ************.

October 2006: Receptionist: Hey Lancey. There’s a call for you on line 1.

November 2006: Hi, How are you?

December 2006: Grey’s Anatomy is over.

January 2007: You know how it is when, say, you’re really dedicated with going to the gym for so long and then you take one day off… then the next… then another… and the next thing you know you’re living in a trailer park and craving Country & Western music?

Lesson From a 15 Year Old Girl.

2007-01-10T11:59:00.000-05:00

“It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams, and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.

It’s utterly impossible for me to build my life on a foundation of chaos, suffering and death. I see the world slowly transformed into a wilderness, I hear the approaching thunder that, one day, will destroy us too, I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change for the better, that this cruelty will too will end, that peace and tranquility will return once more. In the meantime, I must hold on to my ideals. Perhaps the day will come when I’ll be able to realize them!”

Yours, Anne M. Frank

That was an excerpt from The Diary of a Young Girl, by Anne Frank; the last two chapters from Anne’s third last entry written July 15, 1944. Two and a half weeks later, Anne and the seven other people were arrested and taken out of their secret annex where they had been in hiding for more than two years and put into concentration camps.

It seemed so powerful to me, that after living 25 months in a small attic with 7 other people, without the option of going outside, being at the mercy of their helpers, feeding off scarce rations of food that had often begun to rot, Anne still had a drive and hopes of a brighter future when they would be liberated. She often wrote about the trials and tribulations of life in The Secret Annex, but never gave up hope for herself, her family and all of humanity.

A lesson for all of us, maybe?

In March of 1945, nine months after she was arrested, Anne Frank died of typhus at Bergen-Belsen. Roughly one month before that concentration camp was liberated by British troops.

She was fifteen years old.

Oops

2007-01-09T23:01:00.000-05:00

You know how it is when, say, you’re really dedicated with going to the gym for so long and then you take one day off… then the next… then another… and the next thing you know you’re living in a trailer park and craving Country & Western music?

Well, that’s kinda what happened to me with my blog. I had the greatest intentions of finishing my “Seven Days of Christmas Songs” series, but just got so busy the days before that it went the way of the dodo bird. Then I wanted to write amusing Xmas stories, but… again with the dodo. And so it began.

I’ve been aloof. I’ve been absent. But I really do have some ideas that I’ve been working on. I promise a good one tomorrow.

Until then…

Seven Days of Christmas Songs: Days 4 & 5

2006-12-23T23:51:00.000-05:00

Christmas is full of tradition.

There’s family.

There’s presents.

Children.

Santa.

Holiday parties.

Snow.

These things are synonymous with Christmas. Every year, these are the things we think about during the last week of December. 2006 is no different. That is, of course, if you live anywhere else but Toronto, Ontario.

Rain! Fucking rain has been pouring on us for two days now. Ugly grey clouds and, at best, a light mist. We’ve been soaking wet since yesterday, and it does not look like it’s going to let up.

I have never, in all my 28 Christmases, had to live through a grey Christmas. Its supposed to be white. Walking through a white, fluffy blanket of snow-cover with all your bags and treasures in tow. In all truth, every Christmas day in memory has had snowfall. I can’t think of a time when I opened presents without looking out to individual snowflakes falling onto the window pane.

This rain is really getting me down and the weather forecast is not helping. There is tell that there may be snow on Monday night, but until then it is just gonna piss rain. And I don’t even believe that there will be snow. I think that the weather channel just lies to us and tells us such things so that we don’t jump off the viaduct.

And so I offer you this song. This song is covering two days, because there has been two days of stupid rain. You all know the words; if you are here in southern Ontario, please sing along. If you are elsewhere, please pray that we get a little bit of white goodness. (note that I have written my own alternate lyrics… poor rhyming aside… that are in brackets)

White Christmas

The sun is shining, the grass is green
The orange and palm trees sway
(The birch and willow trees sway)
There's never been such a day
In Beverly Hills, LA
(In Our Lovely G.T.A.)
But it's December the 24th
And I'm longing to be up north

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know.
Where the treetops glisten,
And children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
With every Christmas card I write.
May your days be merry and bright.
And may all your Christmases be white.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
With every Christmas card I write.
May your days be merry and bright.
And may all your Christmases be white.

(Lyrics by Irving Berlin 1942)

Seven Days of Christmas Songs: Day 3

2006-12-21T23:06:00.000-05:00

I really enjoy gifts. I really enjoy opening them on Christmas morning and receiving them from friends and clients throughout the entire holiday season. More so, I enjoy giving them. My group of friends and I don’t exchange gifts, but rather, contribute every year to a charity… but I still bought them gifts (I really REALLY enjoy giving gifts, and have a lot of fun doing it. Christmas is… should be… about giving not receiving).

My family traditions have always been about giving rather than receiving. We never made lists, as any gift was a gift. Asking for something was unheard of, as we appreciated the thought behind any present, no matter what is was. That being said, I do have a favorite…

A few years ago, I opened a card from The Philanthropist and in it was a note saying that he had donated money on my behalf to the local YWCA, so they could share it among all their programs. This was in the height of my materialistic, asshole self but I was so touched and moved that someone was putting others before the materialism, commercialism that has become of this holiday.

Christmas is about giving; it always has been. Please remember that when doing your gifts and stockings this week (almost every grocery store sells their $2 donation slips that fit nicely into a card or stocking). Your friends and family love receiving gifts, and these small donations are the perfect accessory to their new purse or book.

I have heard this song over and over again over the past 20 years, and every time it gives me reason to take pause. From the time I was a small child to today, no matter how bad a person I was, this song has always reminded me of the true meaning of giving, and helped to open my eyes to the world outside “your window”.

I hope you read the lyrics to this song and think about the true meaning of giving. And “Tonight thank God it’s them, instead of you.”

Do they know it's Christmas?

It's Christmastime,

there's no need to be afraid

At Christmastime,

we let in light and we banish shade

And in our world of plenty

we can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world

at Christmastime

But say a prayer, pray for the other ones
At Christmastime it's hard,

but when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window,
and it's a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing
is the bitter sting of tears

And the Christmas bells that ring there
are the clanging chimes of doom
Well tonight thank God it's them
instead of you

And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
Where nothing ever grows
No rain or rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?

Here's to you raise a glass for everyone
Here's to them underneath that burning sun
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?

Feed the world

Feed the world

Let them know it's Christmastime again

Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmastime again.

(Lyrics by: Midge Ure and Bob Geldof)

*********************************

Special thanks to The Halfaneese for buying The Boyfriend & I a goat that was sent to a needy village this year. Thanks also to the great clients and friends who have donated to causes and charities in my honor. It truly is an honor, and the pleasure is all mine.

Seven Days of Christmas Songs: Day 2

2006-12-20T16:01:00.000-05:00

Christmas being just a few days away, I find myself nostalgic for the traditions of my family. We don’t really do anything overly special, but it feels nice just to be around them.

Christmas Eve would find us at Moms house; my siblings and I and my best friend and Godchildren. Eventually it included my nephews and soon it will include my niece.

Christmas day is a very relaxed day hanging out. I host brunch at my place. Over to Moms for dinner and family time, then down to Mom & Dad #2’s place for drinks with the boys. Not this year.

This will be my third Christmas away from home and I would like to say it gets easier each year, but no. I miss you guys. I love you. Trust that I AM there ‘in my dreams’.

I'll Be Home For Christmas

I'm dreaming tonight

Of a place I love
Even more than I usually do.
And although I know
It's a long road back
I promise you...

I'll be home for Christmas.
You can count on me.
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love-light gleams.
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams.

(Lyrics by Kim Gannon & Walter Kent)

Seven Days of Christmas Songs: Day 1

2006-12-19T11:58:00.000-05:00

Here is a series of my favorite Christmas songs. I hope you enjoy the lyrics and, if you've not already, listen to the songs.

My Grown-up Christmas List

Do you remember me?

I sat upon your knee

I wrote to you with childhood fantasies

Well I'm all grown up now

Can you still help somehow?

I'm not a child but my heart still can dream

So here's my lifeful wish

My grown up Christmas List

Not for myself

But for a world in need

No more lives torn apart

That wars will never start

And time will heal our hearts

Every man will have a friend

That right will always win

And love will never end

This is my grown up Christmas List

May kindness rules our lives

Not just the strong survive

Sweet tears for all the thousand years on mind

This is the world I pray

We will all share some way

Help me begin by reaching out my hand

No more lives torn apart

That wars will never start

And time will heal our hearts

Every man will have a friend

That right will always win

And love will never end

This is my grown up Christmas List

Why does this illusion call the innocence of you?

Maybe when the time believe we can find the truth

No... No more lives torn apart

That wars will never start

And time will heal our hearts

Every man will have a friend

That right will always win

And love will never end

This is my grown up Christmas List

This is the prayer that I will keep

This is my grown up Christmas list Christmas list
(Lyrics by Linda Thompson Foster)

********************

This is one of my favorite Christmas Songs, and it means more to me every year. For my money, the best version is from Monica, but to be truthful, I've not (yet) heard it done poorly.

A Christmas Laugh

2006-12-14T09:46:00.000-05:00

When you are standing in the long lines at department stores and rushing from this party to that in December traffic, just think of these and have a good laugh.

An Email from ChristiniMartini...

2006-12-10T14:21:00.000-05:00

This is something my mom sent me, and although I usually don't read or pass on forwards, I think it has something important to say and we should all take it to heart...Oh my god, I am such a dork! Anyways, read it! :-P
Love,
Christini
**************************
As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heartbroken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken.

You'll fight with your best friend.

You'll blame a new love for things an old one did.

You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love.

So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.

Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

~anonymous~

Thanks Christini. I really needed that.

Heading Out Tonight!

2006-12-07T10:21:00.001-05:00

The Philanthropist and I are heading out tonight to see an interesting documentary. Anyone interested in joining us?

Here’s a blurb about the film and the event…
“Ancient Tibetan Buddhists realized that balance and harmony within our bodies is the key to our health and healing. This intriguing show combines lecture with performance for an insightful look at Buddhism. The lecture by the Head Lama presents the fundamental connection between our bodies and minds and introduces ancient approaches to healing. Robed in magnificent costumes and playing traditional Tibetan instruments, the Loseling monks perform ancient temple music and dance for personal and world healing.”

There’s a lecture by one of the Buddhist Monks a chance to win a trip for 2 to TIBET!

Things Are Changing.

2006-12-04T00:31:00.000-05:00

Grey’s Anatomy is over. There was no Desperate Housewives. The Sunday visit ended with goodbye’s. And now we are home. I put The Boyfriend to bed and scratched his back and scalp until he went to sleep. “I love you.” “Love you too.” And then I sat at the computer.

Things are changing. After a few emails, I decided to go outside for a cigarette (shut up, I don’t want to hear it). The snow had fallen, and now Lower Etobicoke is covered in a white dew. The wind is slowing down after a few days of gusts and the clouds are subsiding. The moon is out and the stars are shining.

Things are changing. Living downtown, I never saw stars. These past few weeks, they run across the sky playing tag with each other. They still don’t compare to the stars in the northern sky, but they are there. The air is crisp. Everything is white. The moon reflects off the snow in the park below and, for the first time (at night), I can actually see the entire willow tree that is as tall as my entire building. It’s beautiful. Everything from my balcony is absolutely beautiful.

Things are changing. Trees are left leafless and the birds have left. Still, I can’t get over the snow. I lived with so much of it for 21 years and now I have become accustomed to the lack of it. The snow falls, and I can’t stop staring. It’s light, but it’s everywhere.

Things are changing. They are changing beyond my control. There are things that are totally out of our hands… What will happen to George’s father? When will the first snowball fight be? What will we find under our trees in three weeks?

Things are changing. But sometimes we have control. Sometimes we have to take control. Procrastination is usually based on fear, but it’s time to be unafraid. It’s time to throw caution to the wind and take the bull by the horns. It’s time to (insert your preferred cliché here). Things are changing.

I will be making three changes soon. Some may seem small, but to me they are huge. There are huge life changes and huge personal growths. Things are changing and I am scared shitless, but I have to do it. Give me your hand and let me squeeze it.

Things are changing. Because, “For things to change, first I must change!”

I Don't Want To Die. Pt:2

2006-11-30T23:20:00.000-05:00

The second time I ceased to live was two years later.

Now, I must admit, I was really looking forward to this surgery. Honestly. For several reasons:
1: No more hospital visits.
2: Cool scar! A very very very cool scar.
3: Free trip to Edmonton (Hey, it was a vacation from Yellowknife)
4: Only kid in my ENTIRE school that would have had open heart surgery. I was going to be, like, the coolest thing going.
5: If this surgery was a success, I would not need to get a pacemaker.

My mother and I departed the plane and headed to The Ronald McDonald House. After checking into our room I ran down to the rec. room.

Oh
My
God!
They
Have
A
NINTENDO!!!!!!!

The next day we went to the University of Alberta Hospital. This is when I checked in there and met Dr. Penkoskie; a tall woman with long, curly, red hair. That is all I remember about her. That… and she saved my life.

I woke up bright and early on November 29, 1989 (17 years from yesterday). The anaesthesiologist came in to give me a cherry flavoured anaesthetic and asked me to count backwards from 10. “10… 9… 8…7… I don’t think it’s working I don’t feel sleepy. What if I…ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz”

I feel groggy. There’s something in my nose and I can’t move to find out what it is. Back to sleep…
Awake again. Still groggy. Still not able to move, but I can vaguely see a lot of red hair. More sleep…
Awake. Hey, is that mom? I try saying, ‘Mom, you look worried’ but no words come out. I’ll just sleep a little longer…
Awake. I really have to pee. Now able to talk, I tell the nurse. She explains to me how a catheter works (a long tube stuck up your pee hole into you bladder). I’m not sure if I just fell back asleep, or fainted.

After a few days (I assume, but I’m really not sure) in the ICU, I was sent back to paediatrics. Mom presented me with all my homework and letters from all my classmates. A few days back at Ronald McDonald House (Nintendo! Nintendo! Nintendo!) and then we were on our way home… thankfully, with no memory of what had actually happened.

During my sleep on the operating table, once the surgery was complete and they were checking vitals (or something like that), my heart decided it wanted the break and stopped. Once again, I flat-lined. No heartbeat, no breathing, nothing. I was dead… again. “PADDLES! CLEAR!” Nothing.

“Clear!” Nothing.
“CLEAR!” Again… nothing.

Apparently, this went on long enough to be scary. Apparently, this went on for longer that what can be considered ‘usual’ after a surgery. Apparently, Dr. Penkoskie feared she was going to lose me… as scared as all the other doctors and nurses in the room.

Just about the time that I would become a lost cause, a noise echoed in the room.

Beep…

Beep…

Beep…

I was back.

That Christmas, I was given a Nintendo.

************************************

Two years later, while watching some show on out of body experiences, Mom asked me if I saw “The White Light”.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never been dead.”

That was when she told me I had died… twice. I heard the stories directly from my mother’s calm voice. That woman has a knack for making you feel calm when she tells you stuff like that. She told me in such a way that I did not freak out or get all weird. I just thought, “Neat!”

That night I thought more about it. I thought about drifting in and out of consciousness in the I.C.U. and seeing my mother. She did look worried, and two years later I knew why. She had just heard that I had almost died. Her youngest and most frail little boy almost left her.

Another memory from my grogginess that day; that was the first time I had ever seen my mother cry.

I Don't Wan't To Die. Pt:1

2006-11-30T23:06:00.000-05:00

I don’t wanna die!

I don’t wanna die!

I don’t want to die!

Every now and then, I get overcome with this sudden sense of mortality. When we are young, we believe we are immortal; we partake in risky behaviour, we smoke, we jump off cliffs into the lake below, we hitchhike. And why not? We’re got our whole lives to look forward to… what could possibly go wrong now?

Life can go wrong.

We can walk across the street without looking both ways. We can step on a rusted nail. We can get strange diseases. We could have an allergic reaction to medication when the doctors were not aware of said allergy. We could flat-line during a routine open heart surgery. The last two on this list has happened to me.

From 1987 – 1989, I had Wolfe Parkinson White Syndrome. A condition that, while usually only affecting older men, graced me with it’s presence for the bulk of my Elementary school days. WPW is a heart condition that, basically, creates an irregular heart rate… mine often reaching 350 beats per minute.

Before the first anniversary of my first hospital visit, I had become a regular. Every two weeks or so, I would have an ‘episode’ and head to the emergency room to get it all fixed. Very nonchalant, I would excuse myself from my sleepover, my class, recess, and head to the hospital. The “Emerg” (slang for ‘Emergency’… for us in the know) nurses would fill out my paper work for me and call my mom down from the third floor (where she was a nurse). A bucket of ice water, an IV and possibly a few hours later, I would be on my way home… in most cases. I never thought it was weird that someone so young should be admitting themselves into “Emerg”. I did think it was odd of all the adults to be making such a fuss. I mean, really, we’ve been through this before. Several times. It’s beginning to become old hat.

Not that one time. A common medication used in treating irregular heartbeats is Verapamil; a medication I had taken in pill form for some time. On one of my first visits, they decided to hook up a bag of the stuff to my IV. I remember that, but nothing else. Apparently, within seconds of it reaching my system, I bolted upright and projectile vomited. Flopping back down into a convulsion or two, I let my eyes roll and continued vomiting. This is about the time my heart stopped. I was dying.

“Clear!”
“Nothing!
“Again… CLEAR!”
“Nothing”

My heart had stopped and was not starting again. I was not breathing. Nothing that was supposed to be happening was actually happening. The whole time, Mom was there. She was a nurse, she knew what was going on, but could not do anything. He baby was dying right in from of her, and she could do nothing.

“CLEAR!”
“Got it…. Heart rate returning to normal.”

A while later I woke up.

“Mom, my heart is feeling fine again, but I don’t feel well. Can we go home now?”

Little guy: Pt. 1

2006-11-28T00:48:00.000-05:00

I was in Edmonton just over a week ago, for one of my best friends weddings. More post’s about that later… and yes Fat Girl, I will be posting about your sisters wedding too, but for now I wanted to tell you an adorable story about this Little Guy.

He and I have a special bond. And I’m not just talking about how irresistibly cute we both are. No, I refer to the fact that we have both spent a good deal of time in hospital. Me for my heart, eventually leading to open heart surgery at age 11; Little Guy for his confused digestive system.

I’m not sure exactly what the problem is, and I don’t know his mom well enough to get into details, but basically, he has had a series of problems with his stomach and digestive system, resulting in a whole lot of irregular goings on. I was first informed of this the day I arrived in Edmonton.

Little Guy’s Mom called to say that she was taking him to the hospital. His screaming in the background let us all know that he was in a good deal of pain. “Mommy, let’s go. It hurts real bad.” He was released the next afternoon, and par for the course, his mother had adorable stories of the previous night.

Apparently, when he was told he would be staying at least over night, Little Guy looked at the doctor and said, “That’s fine, but I have to be out by Saturday when my Auntie and Uncle get married.” (Note: He was going to be The Junior Groomsman, and his sole duty, in lieu of flower girls, was to hand out fully stemmed red roses to the female guests) The doctor gently told him that that should be fine, but he couldn’t guarantee anything. “But I have to go to the wedding. Uncle needs me to be there so that he looks good.” The doctor reassured him that it was a possibility. “Oh, you just don’t understand! Mom, tell him… I HAVE to be there. I don’t mind if I have to take my pole and medicine bag (read: IV Pole) if I have to.” So cute.

The innocence of children is quite remarkable, isn’t it? His mother and doctor are in such a state of concern and constant worry about him, but he has no idea. To him, constantly going to the hospital is all a part of life, as it was for me when I was a kid. Those of us lucky enough to live through childhood traumas often look back and remember great times spent at hospitals, having wheelchair races, making candles in the Paediatrics Ward. Visitors dressed in clown costumes. I never understood what my mom and the doctors were talking about; and quite frankly, I never thought it was interesting enough to ask. I just had a heart rate of 350bpm and the surgeons were going to fix that. 'Nuff said.

Little Guy was released the next day, as promised, and was the highlight of the wedding… well second only to the FAG-tastic hairstyles coiffured by yours truly.

My five days in Edmonton were filled with a great deal of martini’s and wine. They were also filled with a good deal of wonderful stories and memories, but my time spent with Little Guy brought more tears to my eyes than the wedding itself.

Take care of yourself, Little Guy. Hope to see you again soon.

Attention all Torontonians!

2006-11-22T01:09:00.000-05:00

Sorry 'bout the short notice, but this will be a good show.

Everyone else (and GTAers that can't make it) check out Leela's MySpace
and you can listen to a few tracks and get free downloads.

Earth and Her.

2006-11-22T01:01:00.000-05:00

A Woman after my own heart.

A great post of a great blog… She could do to post a bit more regularly, but then… who am I to judge?

(Ann, Ruth, Callooh) I’m glad to know that… in some small-off-centered-Kevin-Bacon-kind-of-way, I am part of your family.

An Email Fom My Sister.

2006-11-13T16:36:00.000-05:00

Hi, how are you?

Well I just wanted to let you know what your nephew (the little one) did tonight. He decided it would be fun to stick a fork through, yeah that's right, THROUGH his nose. Not a joke. This is true. He tripped and the fork went through his nose and out the nostril. Two of the fork prongs pierced through the skin. I tripped out and took him to the hospital, with the fork still in his nose. They had to give him a needle to make him numb, and then they pulled it out. How gross, I know. It didn't bleed though. He's lucky it missed the eye, sinuses and brain. He has two little holes on the top of his nose.

The doctor took a picture of it and is going to email it to me. Hopefully he's faster than me and I can send it to you. Little monsters.

Okay, anyways bye now.

From ..... Me

****************************************************

How does one respond to that?

Confessions of a Suburban Househusband: Pt. 2

2006-10-26T00:26:00.000-04:00

I laughed along with them. I cried with them. I admired their strength and stories. I often wanted to be invited to a party and have the biggest gift have been from me and write in the card attached saying “Thank you for being a friend.”

And that was okay; that was accepted. But I never expected we would become addicts.

When a couple first moves in together, as The Boyfriend and I have recently done, it takes some time to settle in. You find your groove. The boxes are unpacked, the furniture is in place, and the pictures and art have been hung. Now we’ve settled into our weekly routines of: Monday night is this, Tuesday is this… etc. But there is one common thread as of late. One thing that ties each night to a close…

Almost every night for the past few weeks, The Boyfriend and I have poured a glass of wine (or Brandy, or Port, or Listerine- we're not fussy), put up our feet, grabbed a blanket and popped “The Golden Girls” Complete First Season DVD into the player.

Yes, dear readers, My name is Lance, and I am addicted to a campy mid- 80’s TV show.

Every night.

Without fail.

Just us, slutty Blanche, sarcastic Dorothy, simple Rose and dear straight-talking Sophia Petrillo.

Picture it... Toronto... 2006... Two grown men, in their pyjamas, watching The Golden Girls. Even worse (as if it could be) I have even caught myself, TWICE, watching an episode or two to myself. Oh, the shame of it all.

To all you single girls out there: Be Warned. This is what Suburbia holds for you. Mid-week roast dinners, apartment style laundry, and obsolete Television shows on DVD!

I wouldn’t change it for the world.

2006-10-24T10:20:00.000-04:00

Mad TV - Wizard of Oz

You Psycho Glitter Bitch!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

The Halfaneese emailed this months ago, but it was taken off YouTube for a while. Just found it again. I laugh until I pee everytime I see it.

2006-10-20T01:19:00.000-04:00

The Ellen DeGeneres Show - Ellen Meets a 20 Ft. Ananconda

More Of My Work...

2006-10-18T00:39:00.000-04:00

Here are a few of my Boy Photos.

Alex was my main photographer in Yellowknife. Click here to go to his website.
I wish I had a before picture here… we had one model back out at the last minute, so we ran Alex to the salon and cleaned him up. He started off the day looking like Jesus… full beard, long wavy hair. We even ran into a mutual friend right afterwards and she introduced herself because she didn’t recognize him.

Loko was a riot. He started with stereotypical Straight-Asian-Male hair: Thick, poufy, hanging to his eyes, parted in the middle. I asked if I could really shave it up and if that would be okay at work (he’s a Japanese Tour Guide) and he said, “Fuck it. If they don’t like it, I’ll buy a wig. Fuck my boss! I wear a hat anyway. What is he thinking? It’s winter in Yellowknife. Fuck it. Go for it.”

Congratulations, Auntie Cell Phone Boy!

2006-10-18T00:24:00.000-04:00

Baby Kayla,

It seems like only a few months ago you looked like this…

And, as of last week, you developed into…

I just though I’d let you know that you Uncle is so proud to be just that, and he is very excited to go meet you next month. You should also know that you are very lucky to have such a great Uncle. He is one in a million, and he’s yours.

Congrats Randy.
Congrats Dino & Brian.

Welcome Kayla.

My Little Body's slowly Breaking Down.

2006-10-18T00:06:00.000-04:00

I’m falling apart! I’m not sure when it started, but it has started. Just look at me…

- I have developed some sort of rash thing on my neck. I think it is some sort of allergic reaction to my scarf, because it happened just after I put it on the other day and now my neck burns every time I put it on. Like really really BURNS!
- While I got may hair coloured today a bit of the colour dripped down my neck and has stained the rashy bits into some sort of pattern that The Boyfriend (through his laughter) described only as “Hounds-tooth like”. And I detest Hounds-tooth.
- I can’t bend or move or fully extend anything. Too much working out or something, but all my muscles are sore, and now I hurt in places I need three mirrors to see. I can remember even four years ago, I could work out, run, dance, climb trees and have no physical aftermath. Now… I’m a candidate for Ben-gay. (Ha… I said ‘Gay’).
- I can’t climb trees anymore. I was perfectly fine to mount and jump from trees last year on our annual fall hike, but last weekend the Great Scot, The Halfaneese and The Boyfriend had to help me out of a tree when I got scared and couldn’t get down. Plus, I still have bruises and scratches on my arm from the experience. AND I NEVER USED TO BRUISE!
- And now, all of a sudden, I have a canker sore. No idea where this little bitch comes from, but there it is.

If this is what 27 looks like, I don’t think I’m gonna like 30+ very much.

Steping Aside From My Usual Posts

2006-10-06T00:59:00.000-04:00

So, almost on the same day, I received two of those survey/questionnaire thingies that people send out. Now (Secretly) I actually enjoy filling these out when I have time, but I know most people hate getting them and feeling obliged to return them (which is why they never ever come back in the same numbers that you've sent them out).

So... I figured I'd just post them here. This way, the sender can read my response, and anyone out there can fill it out, or not. And I can appease Fat Girl and her constant neediness for Lancey Posts.

I'll begin with the one she tagged me with....

1. One book that changed your life (hardest question first).The Way, by Michael Berg

2. One book you’ve read more than once. My Point… and I Do Have One, by Ellen Degeneres

3. One book that you’d want on a desert island. A photobook of all my friends & family.

4. One book that made you laugh. The Curious Incident of The Dog In The Nighttime, by Mark Haddon

5. One book that made you cry. The Laramie Project, a Play by Moises Kaufman

6. One book that you wish you had written. Act Now, Apologize Later, by Adam Werbach

7. One book you wish had never been written. I can’t answer this out loud because my answer would be too controversial. And I'm never one to stir the pot.

8. One book you are reading at the moment. Tess of the D’Ubervilles, by Thomas Hardy

9. One book that you’ve been meaning to read. Too Close For Comfort, by Maude Barlow

10. Tag five others that you’d like to do this meme. Everyone from the Book club (This will also tell me who still reads my blog and who has left me in the dust)... oh and Ann / Callooh; I'd be really interested to see what she puts. Maybe Lorne too. Suzanne (if you're still reading). Oh hell... everyone should just do it.

2006-10-06T00:20:00.000-04:00

This one, I recieved from Allie, My best friend in Yellowknife:

FIRST NAME? Lance

WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Friend of Mom's (I think he was gay, too.All Lance's are, really)

WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? When Mom was here and started talking about Will'sand DNR's etc.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? No. That's why I blog... I can type everything.

IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Now, yes.

DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL? A Blog... does that count?

DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Me? Never.

DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Last time I looked. Should I check again? Yep, still there.

WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? In a minute!

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? I feel obliged to say Fruit Loops, butI'm more of an Egg guy.

DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? If I had laces, I still wouldn't.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Getting stronger by the day. Or is thata metaphor for like some sort of inner beauty mumbo-jumbo? Either way...sure.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP!!!!

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Teeth, eyebrows,package.

WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOU? My past.

ANY BROTHERS OR SISTERS? 1 of each.

DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? I'd like it, but I know everyone is SOOOOO busy, I'll probably not get any back at all

WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Black dress pants and fuzzy blue Ikea Slippers.

THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Yummy yummy Thai food and a protein shake.

WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? The tapping on my keyboard and The Boyfriend snoring.
IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOUR WOULD YOU BE? Red? Like the skin of my forefathers? I don't know. What a stupid question!

FAVOURITE SMELLS? Cooking smells, and fresh cut grass.

WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? The Boyfriend, when I asked him to pick me up.

DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Sure do.

FAVORITE DRINK? Coffee & Red wine... usually not at the same time. Usually.

FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH? Syncronized Bowling.

HAIR COLOR? $65 and up. Highlights start at $120.

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE FOOD? Anything homemade, but if I had to choose one, it would be Penne with a spicy chicken/tomato/herb sauce.

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Both. Depends on if I'm on my 'moontime' or not.

LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Now, Voyager (Old Bette Davis movie watched on my new DVD projector).

WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? I'm topless right now. Giggity giggity giggity.

SUMMER OR WINTER? Summer! Without a doubt.

HUGS OR KISSES? Kisses when I'm happy, hugs when I'm sad.

MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Fat Girl, because she is making me do the same thing.

LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Allie, becasue she sent this to me, so there would be no point in her sending it back again.

WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? Tess of The d'Ubervilles by Thomas Hardy. It's for a book club... I'm not that cultured.

WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? I work on a laptop, so I use the touchpad. If I had a mousepad, it would be a solid colour or Madonna, I imagine.

WHAT DID YOU WATCH LAST ON TV LAST NIGHT? The Boyfriend made me watch Lost. I'd never seen it, but I could be interested in exploring it further. Beats reading Tess.

FAVORITE SOUNDS? The waves of Lake Ontario from our balcony, and children playing.

ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Tough call... The Beatles I guess. They had a few more meaningful songs.

DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? The only one I can claim out loud is my scalp massages.

WHEN WERE YOU BORN? On my birthday.

WHERE WERE YOU BORN? The General Hospital.

Welcome Back, Blogger!

2006-10-05T00:01:00.000-04:00

Hello everyone... and welcome to my first post from my newly awakened computer.

Remember how I’ve not been posting all too regularly lately… well this was the main problem. I did the last nine posts from The Boyfriend’s computer and I really REALLY don’t like using other peoples computers.

a: My fingers are used to my own keypad, and so I end up with all sorts of spelling errors and that makes me feel stoopid.

b: I feel weird about saving pictures onto other peoples computers. So even in my few posts of late, they’ve all been pretty lack on the old photo department.

c: I’m always concerned that I’ll find something I don’t want to find when snooping through… uh… surfing on other peoples computers. Like that one time a friend was on his roommates’ computer and stumbled upon home-made porno of said roommate. What if I was looking online and realized that The Boyfriend had a thing for Belizean Transsexual Midget porn? It’s just no good. (No offence to any Belizean transsexual midgets who might be reading.)

But now… I’m back. After about 2 hours on the phone with my 2 different ISP’s, I am now hooked up to some serious high speed and a new email address (to any of you that actually know my email address, trust that you will be getting an email soon regarding the change… but the old one is still in effect).

And so... Fat Girl… you can just stop your bitching and whining and moaning. Sheesh… remember that time you took off for two weeks to the middle east?… Didn’t hear me complaining did ya?

Huh?

Huh?

Did ya?

Oh wait... we did.

The Phone Call: A Play In One Act.

2006-10-03T23:23:00.000-04:00

Receptionist: Hey Lancey. There’s a call for you on line 1.

Me: Thanks for holding. Lance speaking.

Leigh: Hey Lance. How’s the hair business going?

Me: i have no idea who the hell this is. Oh you know… busy as usual. How are you?

Leigh: Good. Actually, I’m calling from Saskatchewan. My name is Leigh. I think I saw you on ‘Diva on a Dime’. Did you do hair on that show at once?

Me: More like 14 times, but yeah, that was me.

Leigh: WOW! Fourteen times. I only saw the show the one time, but you were great. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I think you’d be great for my business!

Me: whatthefuck? Uh… how do you mean?

Leigh: Well, after I saw you on the show, I couldn’t stop thinking about how great you would be with us. I spent a few hours searching online and came up with this salon number. I was hoping I’d found the right one… and here you are.

Me: whatthefuck?

Leigh: See, my Auntie and cousin are in it, and they’re doing really well. Often bringing in $20 000 - $30 000 a month. It’s a really simple sales type business...

Me: oh shit… I smell pyramid scheme.

Leigh: ...And it’s not some pyramid scheme or anything, hahaha. It’s really easy… in fact, the beauty is that you don’t even have to do ANYTHING! Do you know of any friends or clients that would love to make extra cash? Becasue I would train you, and all you’d have to do is train two people the same way, and the money just comes rolling in. Doesn’t that sound exciting?

Me: yeah… as exciting as having my teeth pulled out by your cousin clement. Oh… well… yeah. That sounds really… interesting.

Leigh: And, coincidentally, there’s a huge conference happening in your area in two weeks...

Me: oh goodie.

Leigh: ...I’ll be there, and I was thinking I could bring you along…

Me: are tom cruise, john travolta and l. ron hubbard going to be there?

Leigh: …as my guest. I’d pay your way in and all that. I think you’d really like it. We have a lot of hairdressers working for us. Mostly, we sell cosmetics, but there is also some stationary and some other great and exciting products. Does that sound like something you would like to come to?

Me: not on your little hick life. Well, it sounds fun, but it would be next to impossible for me to get time off. You know, bosses and all that. I wouldn’t be able to go.

Leigh: Oh, I totally understand. That’s why it’s so great working for yourself. We even have doctors and lawyers that work for us because, well as you know, all the long hours that have to be put in for not very much money.

Me: now you’re singing my song sister. but i still ain’t listening. I hear ya!

Leigh: Yeah, it’s really great. They give you a white Mercedes and everything. And you really really do well. Not like Mary Kay and others.

Me: well, I must admit, I do fancy a pink convertible. Yeah, it’s just too bad I wouldn’t be able to make it. Shucks.

Leigh: Well, how about if I sent you some information and … Oooooo… maybe a sample of our great products?

Me: free shit? hell yeah, bring it on. Sure, any information you have would be great.

Leigh: Well, how about you just give me your home mailing address and I’ll get that all off to you right away.

Me: and have some crazy amway people calling me all the time. Oh heeeeeeeeell no. Well, how about I just give you the salon address. I just moved and don’t know my mailing address off the top of my head. This will be easier. I really don’t want to have the package lost in the mail. Got a pen?

Moral of this story: I need a couple of you guys to help me out. All you have to do is come over and have a little chat with me. I’m just going to train you all and you can see how easy it is to make E Z money!

Confessions of a Suburban Househusband: Pt. 1

2006-09-21T10:02:00.000-04:00

Gone are the days of throwing in a load of wash before work and coming home to dry it at your own convenience. Throughout my entire life, I have always been fortunate enough to have in-suite laundry; that is, until three weeks ago.

Picture it: Etobicoke, 2006. Eight story building + Seventeen units on each building + Four washers + Four dryers = a crap shoot every laundry day. Yesterday was one of those days.

I had many errands to run early afternoon, so I didn’t get a chance to start my laundry in the morning. As soon as I got home at 6pm I loaded up my hampers with pre-sorted laundry (Lights, Darks, Delicates and Towels) and trucked my way down to the basement. Pockets loaded up with a mint of Loonies and quarters. The Gods were smiling on my as I walked into the room and a lady had just taken all of her wash out and was putting them in the dryer… this meant all 4 washers were free. I quickly loaded up the machines with water.

This is where the logic had to come in. Different loads have different needs. I always wash in cold, with the exception of whites. After I figured out which load would go in which machine, I realized that would not work. One machine will only do cold water if it’s a delicate cycle, so I had to stop another washer and move the delicates yonder. After a few minutes I was done and ready to go back up stairs.

I assumed that, because the woman had just loaded up the dryers, I had about an hour and fifteen minutes to wait. Back upstairs I threw my steak on the BBQ, sautéed garlic and mushrooms and mashed up a mean potato. Finish with a glass (or two) of wine and I was stuffed. Dishes done, I headed back downstairs.

“It’s going to be a while.” Commented the aforementioned woman. “The dryers are working slow tonight. This is the 2nd time I am drying these loads and I have another to put in afterwards. So you’re looking at about 2 more hours.” You’ve got to be shitting me.

Long story short, all the laundry got finished and brought upstairs… at about midnight. After folding by candlelight (we have no lights in our living room yet, and The Boyfriend was sleeping so I couldn’t use the bedroom) I resolved to start laundry at 5am from now on.

I think come summer, I will have to pay The Lesbians an allowance to let us use their washer and clothes line. At least it’s only one small flight of stairs. Spending the day trucking up and down on my poodle dress and red heels was murder on my feet. How did June Cleaver do it?

On Top of the World, Looking Down on Creation.

2006-09-12T09:21:00.000-04:00

Wow!

I had a lot more stories I was gonna tell about our move, but it all seems senseless now. The move was so long ago, and so much has been forgotten, plus, so much is happening now.

We’re told to live in the present, and let go of the past. This morning I was overcome with a sense that I needed to write. I’ve gotten into the habit of taking my morning coffee on the balcony of our 7th story, south-facing apartment, and this morning the view was spectacular!

Remnants of some tropical storm or hurricane somewhere I’m sure, Lake Ontario is a wealth of waves and white-caps; Willow trees being blown this way and that; The sound of waves crashing along the shore; The wind conducting a song with the bell in our patio garden. What a civilized way to receive your early morning caffeine fix.

I wish I had a digital camera, or at least knew how to work The Boyfriends digital camera. One day soon I will get photos of this spectacular view. For now you’ll just have to imagine:

An unobstructed view of downtown Toronto (CN Tower and all) to the far left. The trees of Toronto Island just beside that. Then lake. Lake. Lake. Lake. And more lake. In the dead of night, you can see Buffalo, NY (or Rochester, depending on who you ask), and the lights of what may be Niagara Falls. Below us is a small park, littered in grass and willow trees, and quite often, a flurry of dogs and their humans.

I love it here.

Tuesday August 29, 2006

2006-09-05T00:41:00.000-04:00

The End Of Chapter One:

After a quick morning at work, I headed back to the apartment for the final clean sweep. This would be the end all and be all of leaving. Everything will be out, and all surfaces washed to infinity. I bounced down the street with all the energy in the world. I walked into my apartment and then it hit me…

I’m soooooooooooooooo tired. As soon as I walked in and saw my messy bedroom, I just wanted to lie on a pile of old papers and sleep. But work needed to be done.

It’s funny how you think in your head about all the work you need to do and give yourself a rough timing estimate… and you’re NEVER right. My estimate was 2 hours, 3 at the most.

Survey says: ALMOST EIGHT HOURS OF CLEANING!!!!!!!!

Now, you may be thinking that I kept the dirtiest apartment that ever was. Rest assured, I did not. I just like to leave a house clean and immaculate for the next tenant. I’ve moved into filthy apartments before, and would never do that to someone else.

I spent the entire afternoon and most of the evening washing the windows, vacuuming everything, washing baseboards, scrubbing the floor, running de-clogger (is that even a word?) through the pipes in the shower and sinks. And, of course, doing all my laundry. This would be my last chance to do FREE laundry; from now on it’s collecting quarters and loonies every laundry day and hauling myself down 8 flights of stairs with hamper in tow.

And… We’re done. That’s it. It's over. That really is the end of my time here in Cabbagetown. I’m having a hard time letting go of this for some reason. I’m very excited about what my future holds, but this has been such a great apartment.

Goodbye 325. I’ll miss you.

sigh

Monday August 28, 2006

2006-09-05T00:32:00.000-04:00

Back to reality. Back to moving. Back to the tedious, tiresome, toil that is my week.

After a quick cup of coffee, was off to fetch Cousin Janet, co-founder of ‘Sandy Pants Construction Company’. The day looked like this:

- Pick paint.
- Realize you forgot all your ‘Canadian Tire Money’. Curse your fate for having to spend the extra $4.65 or ‘real’ money.
- Head ‘home’ with fresh Starbucks Venti Vanilla Non-fat Latte’s.
- Fill any holes. Sand and wash all walls.
- Have The Landlady come down with more Latte. (Bless her!)
- Paint on a liberal first coat of ‘Almond Wisp’. Make the obligatory joke about me being allergic to almonds, and breaking out in hives.
- Wash up and go for lunch.

Note: This is when Cousin Janet got me drunk. Not only did we share a pitcher then 2 extra pints of beer, but we stopped at the LCBO on the way back for another 6 pack. Oh… this is going to get interesting.

- With the utmost of concentration, we painted on the second and final coat.
- Begin cleaning apartment. And I mean C-L-E-A-N! Cupboards wiped down (“I Love Bleach” exclaimed Cousin Janet), floors swept and mopped. Fridge wiped out. Oven and stovetop scoured. Toilet and shower scrubbed. You could really eat off of any surface in the place.

Once we were satisfied with our work (read: To fucking tired to go on) we had The Halfaneese and Cell Phone Boy come over with snacks… and more beer. CJ and I collapsed on the floor. Our hair a mess, clothes sweated through, a mixture of paint, dirt, dust, cleaning products, and who knows what else on our newly blackened feet. We were mere images of our professional beauty industry selves.

After a lovely dinner, Cousin Janet and I fell asleep on the subway. Hugging each other. Nestled into each others necks. Drooling on one anothers shoulders. Barely conscious of the subway stops as we listened to the gentle hum of the train and the voices of the other passengers saying, “Look at those two bums over there. They’re filthy and they smell and they’re passed out drunk on the subway.”

Hopefully some of them read this and understand the truth.

Note: I have some great photos of the day, bt can not seem to upload them onto blogger. Grrr.

Sunday August 27, 2006

2006-09-05T00:30:00.000-04:00

Ahhhh…. The sweetness that is my Sunday Morning Sleep-in!

“Honey! Wake up. We have to go!”

“I don’t want to go to school Mom!”

Oh shit, I forgot! We’re headed to Niagara today.

For details, see The Boyfriends Blog

Saturday August 26, 2006

2006-09-04T01:11:00.000-04:00

Saturday August 26:

People at my work are amazing. Everyone wished me well and my clients today… geez, you’d think I lost my dog or something… tips coming out of the woodworks. All week, my little tip envelopes were signed… “Have some wine on me” or “Remember to relax” or “Good Luck” or “Congrats! Put this to first months rent” yadda yadda yadda. All the little envelopes stuffed to the brim with $10’s, $20’s, even a $50 or two.

Work now done It’s time to get to business… I packed up the remaining boxes of stuff and got ready for the onslaught of hired help (read: Good-friends-who-are-easily-tricked-into-helping-haul). Everyone showed up to lend a hand, and as usual, Cousin Janet will be first on the scene. She’s on her way now, so I really should sign off and get some work done.

*************

WOW! That’s one empty apartment. I can hear an echo, seriously. I totally forgot how this place looks when empty; it’s been full of furniture, boxes, people, parties, animals etc. for 28 months, and now… dormant.

Oh my God. Here I go. I’m all veclempt. Talk amongst yourselves!

This is the first apartment I ever had in Toronto. I found it before I moved here and The Landlady held it vacant for over 6 weeks because she liked me and wanted me to have it. I saw this place and said, “I’ll take it” before I even looked around and asked questions. I pretty much had my signature on the line before I even knew the neighbourhood. I walked in and had such great vibes that I just knew this was “MY” place. My Home! But now…

Now it’s going to be someone else’s place. It’s going to be Nancy’s place. No more parties. No more talking to The Boyfriend on the phone before bed. No more great backyard movie nights. No more talking to my neighbour, Wilson, through the fence.

But you know what? There will be more parties; BETTER parties. I no longer need to talk to The Boyfriend on the phone before bed, because he will be right there beside me. We will one day have our own backyard with movie nights. And there will be other neighbours. Wilson has become a client, so I will stay in contact with her, and make new friends.

Everything is going to be great.

**********

Well, that’s as far as I had written before taking my computer out of commission for a few days. After that, The Philanthropist and I made a haul of big furniture and had to go back for the mattress and X-mas decorations. Lucky us, we both looked at the city for a few second too long and missed our turn off so we drove an extra ten minutes out of our way, only to get to drive back the said ten minutes. And (no word of this is a lie) as much as the weather looked dodgy all day, it held up… until we moved my mattress outside. The second that got out from cover, the drizzle started…. AND STOPPED the minute we got it in the van. What am I? Charlie Brown with some silly black cloud hanging over my head?

Thank you to the Lesbians for hosting an impromptu “Finished Moving Party”. After all was dropped off we headed there for pizza, salad, crackers, cheese, watermelon, goldfish, and some roll/pastry/yummy thing that Val made.

And, of course wine and beer. The latter has a lot to do with why I have very little memory of many more details. I do remember Jasper being overly cute though.

Such a great dog.

Friday August 25

2006-09-04T00:58:00.000-04:00

Special Post Note: All time breaks will be noted with *********************. When you see that, time has elapsed.

Friday, August 25, 2006:

After work tonight, I came home and did my The Landlady’s hair. She has been not only a great landlady, but more recently, a great friend. I confirmed with her that this would not be her last appointment with me, but that I would travel to her and do her hair even after I move. This sat well with her.

The Boyfriend came over and we had a quick rest. I’ve been so tired lately, what with all the moving and what-not. He’s come over to help me attack a few boxes, but really, I just felt like lying in his arms and being alone with him. I imagine that the next few days (weeks?) will have us more ‘discussing’ stuff than relaxing and smooching.

We both have our own way of doing things, and that is going to make it VERY interesting when we start unpacking next week. There will surely be ‘discussions’ re: Whose cutlery will we use? Which coffee pot? Where will this couch go? Whose _______ gets put out, whose goes into storage? It’s going to be fun!

The boyfriend just left. He’s coming down with something, and needed to go home and get some rest. Poor baby, I don’t like when people are sick. I just want to take care of them and make them all better… probably some impact from having a nurse for a mother. But, alas, I can not do. I have to stay here and get boxes ready for the big move tomorrow.

************************

OMG!!!! Just look around! There’s boxes everywhere. Where the hell do I start? We did some stuff in the kitchen, some stuff in the bathroom, there’s stuff that needs to be done in the bedroom. My God, how is this ever going to be ready for people to come tomorrow and help haul stuff? Next time I move I hope to be independently wealthy so that I can just hire people to do all this for me.

************************

Well, I just locked myself in the bathroom for a bit. I hate this. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. The bathroom seemed to be an easy place to start; I can’t see the mess and chaos in the rest of my 700 square feet. I organized all my shaving crème, toner, eye crème, T-zone Shine Minimizer etc etc etc into “BOX 20” and filled that line on my “Box Contents List”. Yes, I am that anal that I have a list of exactly what is in each and every box of my move… And yes, I am that gay that I have an entire box for just bathroom shit… and yes I have that much crap in my apartment that I am at BOX 20, and still have packing to do. Gimme a break.

***********************

So… you wanna know the fun part? We all assumed that the new aparntment would be somewhat ready for us to move into tomorrow evening, but… no. The Boyfriend just called from the new place, and it is soooooo not even close. In our heads, we thought that my stuff would move seamlessly into the new spot; even if just one bedroom was ready or something, but apparently, the apartment is full of dust… and paint… and drywall… and dirt… and bugs… and all sorts of grossness. So, the NEW plan is: When everyone shows up tomorrow, we will start to move stuff into The Boyfriends apartment, rather than the new. Because 1300 sq. feet of stuff easily fits into 600. God, I wish I did drugs.

***********************

Well, that’s it. I’m off to bed. I am so tired. I hope to get some sleep in the next… month? Is that too much to ask. I finished the bathroom, and took down my shelving. I finished the kitchen, with the exception of some dry food and what ever is in the fridge/freezer. I organized the boxes so that I have three piles:

1: Stuff getting hauled tomorrow.
2: Stuff getting picked up by their rightful owners tomorrow.
3: Stuff that really needs to get packed so that it can be hauled off tomorrow.

Mind you, it might just be easier if I toss myself and all my belongings off the damn viaduct in the night time.

It’s like 2:23 am and I have to be awake in 5 hours to go to work then move all day. God, I’m a whiney bitch tonight!

Me So Sleepy.

2006-08-27T23:08:00.000-04:00

- 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...

2006-08-23T15:48:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-08-22T01:47:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-08-16T19:55:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-08-16T19:15:00.000-04:00

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!

2006-08-14T15:34:00.000-04:00

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:

2006-08-13T12:02:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-08-09T19:49:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-08T01:09:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-08T00:13:00.000-04:00

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:

2006-08-07T23:42:00.000-04:00

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.

2006-08-04T12:00:00.000-04:00

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

Suspicions Confirmed.

2006-08-04T11:55:00.000-04:00

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.

Cirque de So Gay pt.2

2006-07-27T19:34:00.000-04:00

So, here’s the deal:

You go.
You pay your $25.
You watch one demonstration.
You get attached to your harness.
You climb a 946 foot ladder that’s held together with spirit gum and faith.
You stand on a platform that’s 10in x 3ft.
You grab onto a bar with one hand.
You grab on with the other.
You jump.
You Swing. Hook Legs.
You Swing. Drop arms. Bend your back.
You Swing. Grab on with hands.
You Swing. Drop legs.
You Swing. Perform double back flip.
You land safely into net.

Repeat steps 4-14, four times.
Meet with friends for cocktails afterwards to calm your nerves and ‘come down’.

Essentially, that was trapeze class. It also happened to be the MOST FUN I HAVE HAD IN TWO HOURS (outside of the bedroom), IN A VERY VERY LONG TIME.

Friday nights are Trapeze drop-in (pardon the pun) nights at The Toronto School of Circus Arts. Our class was eighteen people strong, but it can vary between as low as four people, and as high as 25. At first I though it would be boring, just sitting around while other people flew about, but as everyone was at different levels, it was great too see others perform tricks that we have yet to learn (note the emphasis on ‘yet’).

Definitely going back. No question. After waiting 7 months for the class, I’m hooked. I believe I may even take the full course when I can afford to drop the $700. Until then, I will be at liberty of the drop-in offerings.

Anybody want to join in? The group than went (Cell Phone Boy, Debbie Gibson, Sideshow Elissa, The Late One and I) have made a pact to go every other payday, and are more than willing to accept more guests and / or go on other Fridays as well. Also note, I think my birthday party will be held there… at least the start of it.

TWO MOST MEMORABLE MOMENTS OF THE NIGHT:

1: One of my class mates was a four year old girl named Belinda. She climbed the ladder with ease, jumped on the bar like a pro, and hooked her legs as any four year old that has ever been to a Jungle-gym could. But when the instructor called out for her to drop her arms, she replied (mid-swing; from the rafters), “I don’t think I want to! I think I want to come down now.” A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E!

2: Edited out because, apparently, Cell Phone Boy wouldn’t want me to tell everyone that he farted out loud, in our direction. Oops.

2006-07-27T10:25:00.000-04:00

Kids in the Hall - Nipples

One of my favourite KITH skits.
Short, but sweet.

I'm beginning to see a trend...

2006-07-27T09:38:00.000-04:00

I know it's not just me, but I've been having serious problems trying to publish on this site lately.

Grrrrr.

Cirque de So Gay

2006-07-21T09:42:00.000-04:00

Well, tonight I will be cashing in on one of last years Christmas gifts, and going to my first (of many?) Flying Trapeze classes.

Not much more to say about it really, as I'm not sure what it will entail, but wish us luck.

Oooooooo. Maybe one day I could move to Vegas!

2006-07-17T12:07:00.000-04:00

Confessions of a Drag Queen (trailer)

How DOES she put her bits away?

Do Not Feed or Offer Poppers To The Drag Queens.

2006-07-17T11:45:00.000-04:00

Just over a year ago, I met with The Boyfriend and several of his co-workers for a cocktail (or four) in Toronto’s Gay Village. We found ourselves in a quiet pub enjoying wine and martini’s. This is when we found out that one of his co-workers, Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon, was looking forward to seeing some drag queens. What Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon didn’t know was that not every square inch of The Village was hopping with tucked penises.

This is when the begging started. For the past 12 months all we’ve heard is, “Oh. You have to take me out to see the queens.” “I Want to see the queens.” “Where are the queens?” “When are we going to see the queens?” “Is that a queen?” Honestly, you’d think that she had never seen a Drag Queen in her life. Well, I guess, she DOES live in Mississauga. So we finally were able to book a date and this past Saturday saw us all getting ready to see the queens.

The Boyfriend, Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon, and Issabell de Isabella (their Portuguese co-worker that married a man with the same surname as her given name… straight people are so weird) and I all met at a lively little Hookah bar in Little Italy. Over the first few martinis, we talked about the bar and the show that we were about to go see. Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon was shocked. “There’s an actual show?” What did she think, that we kept drag queens in cages so that we could just look at them? We would post signs that said, “Do Not Feed Or Offer Poppers To The Drag Queens”?

Off we go to Church Street and arrive at Crews & Tango, a local bar that offers nightly entertainment of the Gender Bending kind. Tonight we would be seeing Farrah N. Hyte and Heaven Lee Hytes (two of my personal favourites) doing what they do best: parade around in women's clothing lip singing to other peoples songs.

Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon was like a kid at Disneyland. Her mouth dropped, her eyes bulged out, a small trickle of drool dangling from her chin. Pretty. She was quickly spotted as the new girl on the street. Others in line with us were helping her spot out drag queens on the street. “Really, that’s one?” No, Rammadeep, that seven foot tall woman in platform heels, huge blonde wig, wearing sequins is actually a woman. So much to learn, but so eager.

Once we made it inside, it was Issabell de Isabella’s turn to be shocked. She was expecting a piano bar setting, were we would be entertained by “Cher”, “Madonna”, “Barbra”, “Tina”, “Bette” and the rest. Much to her surprise, we were allowed to dance, jump, scream and applaud while Farrah and Heaven Lee egged us on. It only took a few minutes for the girls to get used to hearing ‘the girls’ using language courser than a longshoreman with tourettes.

The evening went well. A little too well, I think. As we left, the new veterans of gay culture looked across the street and saw another bar. “What’s the Black Eagle?” asked Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon.

“A leather/bear bar.” We replied knowingly.

“Oh. You have to take me out to see the leather daddies and bears.” “I Want to see the leather daddies and bears.” “Where are the leather daddies and bears?” “When are we going to see the leather daddies and bears?” “Are they leather daddies and bears?”

Oh boy. It’s going to be an interesting summer.

2006-07-16T12:35:00.000-04:00

My apologies to anybody out there who may be reading. Especially Fat Girl. Sheesh! I had no idea that someone would get so worked up about me taking a few days off. Apparently, and this I did not know, my blog is like crack to her.

I’ve been a very busy boy this week and have not had time to sit down and put something to paper. But trust that I will soon. I have a few things that are ready, they just need to be typed.

So Sooooooooooorry. I’ll try to be more responsible.

-L

PS: Does that count as a post?

I Should Start Getting Paid For Promoting People...

2006-07-08T00:00:00.000-04:00

Click here to listen to a great song. I just put it onto my iPod this morning, and have already listened to it several times over. You can get a FREE download of it off the Official Website by clicking the big pink banner.

The song is called 'Fade In Time'. It's a new song off the upcoming album "Sky is Open" from Donna De Lory. I've never heard any of her personal music before, but if it's a lot like this I just may buy this album.

I imagine it to be great for meditation (if your practice involves music), quiet walks, yoga, background music at dinner... anything. I'm trying to learn the words so that I can sing along (See previous post).

Give it a shot. You won't be sorry.

Sing It, Sister!

2006-07-07T00:00:00.000-04:00

Karen Carpenter was on to something. Well, maybe not with the whole starvation / bulimia thing, but with the singing thing, she was bang on.

Anyone who knows me knows one thing: I have the kind of smooth, silky singing voice that could make Helen Keller turn in her grave. That’s right, I can’t sing. Not a note. Not one bar. I couldn’t carry a tune with a duffle bag. You want melody… forget it!

That being said, I LOVE SINGING. Love it. I sing all the time… well whenever I’m alone, that is. There’s something that just feels so powerful about belting out a tune (that sounds rather foul doesn’t it. “You’ve been a very very bad tune. I’m gonna give you a belting you won’t soon forget!”). Singing to your hearts content, as loud as you want (remember to be alone when doing this… unless you actually possess some semblance of talent) without a care in the world. Just you and your Judy Garland album.

I listen to music all the time. It surrounds me. At home my CD’s are always playing. At work, too. In between the two, I have my iPod. Unless I’m in the movie theatre or having dinner with people, I’m listening to music. And truth be told, if I’m having dinner with really boring people, I still listen to music just to drown them out. (Shhhhhh, our secret.) And when I listen, I just can’t help myself but to sing along.

Studies have shown that singing is actually beneficial to our health to boot. They say (‘They’ being the people that do these studies) that when we’re singing, good or bad, our mood is elevated and endorphins are released and some other good stuff happens, or something… I wasn’t actually paying attention to the article.

I’ve actually got another confession to make: I sometimes fancy myself a famous singer of some sort, and dance around my apartment singing along with Madonna, Liza, Elton, Tina, Enrique, whoever. I dance around like I was in the video. Mirrors really come in handy at this point. My apartment is not the largest unit on the planet, so I am rather limited to my moves, but I can still Vogue like nobody’s business. Although I did make quick note that I would never again try to duplicate the finale of ‘Flashdance’.

Maybe things will be different when a CERTAIN Fat Girl and I actually get around to booking ourselves into a dance class of some sort. Until then, take a cue from Karen, the ‘They’ and from me…

Sing, sing a song

Sing out loud
Sing out strong
Sing of good things not bad
Sing of happy not sad.

Sing, sing a song
Make it simple to last
Your whole life long
Don't worry that it's not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear
Just sing, sing a song.

Sing, sing a song
Let the world sing along
Sing of love there could be
Sing for you and for me.
-The Carpenters

The End Of My Career!

2006-07-06T10:04:00.000-04:00

Inspired be Fat Girl’s post about knowing what you want to be when you grow up, I thought I’d share some musings of my own.

If you’ve not been reading my earlier series “A Brief History of My Career” (and why haven’t you?), then let me bring you up to date…

Ever since Grade 1, I have wanted to become a hairstylist. Right after high school I enrolled at Marvel College and became a Stylist. I took of like a shot and almost instantly became Yellowknife’s “Go-To Guy”. Within months, I was booked several weeks in advance. Within two years, I was unable to accommodate any new clients.

I opened my own salon and became the epitome of what a young, fabulous, naive hairstylist should be: I traveled the continent on a monthly basis going to this class, or that workshop. A few symposiums in Vegas. Colour classes in New York. Hands-on workshops directed by some of the industries biggest names… Ruth Roche, Chris Baran, Sharon Biro, Sam Villa, et al.

I tired of this soon enough, and decided to take my talents and move them to Toronto… for if I could make it there, I’d make it anywhere. My goals?
- Get my name into magazines.
- Work on serious photo shoots.
- Work on television.
- Work Fashion shows.
- Become a serious, well known, respected educator.
- Build a firm, solid clientele.

Well in just over two years, I’ve been named several times in NATIONAL magazines, most recently listed as one of the top Colourists in Toronto in Fashion Magazine. I’ve done several photo shoots for competition, magazine, advertising etc. Filmed several episodes of Prime Networks ‘Diva on a Dime’, as well as TLN's ‘Viva Dominicana’ and that makeover show that the Designer Guys did. Been hairstylist (and once a model) for a few fashion shows, some big, some small.

My career as an educator was brilliant. Having recently left the position, I still run into students that ask why I left, request that I come back to their salon to teach. Across eastern Canada there are stylists that have been asking why I left or where I have gone to. My clientele has built into quite a respectable size for someone who’s only been in the city 2 years.

So, on paper, I’ve done all that I’ve set out to do, yes? I should, by all accounts be happy and satisfied, yes? Actually, no.

You see, I left Yellowknife thinking that the reason I was unhappy is that I was there. I felt like I just needed to spread my wings. I wanted to see, just see, if I could actually fly.

Around the same time that I was deciding this, I started studying Kabbalah and Buddhism.

Kabbalah taught me that everything I valued in the material realm (known as the 1%) was not bringing me happiness. The money, the fame, the fortune that I sought was not going to bring the fulfillment that I was hoping for. Buddhism showed me what was happening to me from my past way of thinking. I was learning more about the type of person I was becoming.

While I was being continually overwhelmed by these principals, I came to the realization that I was unhappy because I have swayed from my original path. Before I got into the fashion industry I did a lot of volunteer work. Even early in my career I volunteered my services quite often. But then I got dollar signs in my eyes and started seeing everything through green tinted glasses.

Where am I going with this? Well many months ago, I made a decision:
I am leaving the Fashion Industry!

Any readers that are my clients, don’t worry! I am not completely leaving. I am just going to be making hairstyling my part-time gig eventually. I’ve decided that I can’t die after living a life selling the idea that our outer appearances are that important. I can’t die thinking that my greatest accomplishment was getting my foil highlights closer to the root than most colourists. Good things to be sure, and definitively something to take pride in, but I crave more.

I want to save the world!

Some of you may scoff or roll your eyes, but trust me, I will do it. I am going to work the rest of my natural life trying to make the world a better place. Clear peoples eyes. Challenge peoples beliefs. Open peoples hearts. Give someone, somewhere hope.

I’m not quite sure how I’ll do it, but I do have a short term plan. So, submitted for your approval, here is my new set of goals:

- Enrol in a Fundraising & Volunteer Management Program at one of the three colleges in Toronto that offer it.
- Start work in the Not-For-Profit / Voluntary sectors.
- Encourage more people to volunteer on a regular basis.
- Encourage more people to reduce/reuse/recycle.
- Empower people to be the change they want to see in the world.
- Annually travel to Africa, India or any other 3rd world country to do volunteer work for a month or so.
- Die knowing that I’ve done something.

No small order, but I love a challenge.

What happens when you risk losing one life, to save another?

2006-06-27T18:17:00.000-04:00

A few months ago, Cell Phone Boy and I went to see a great documentary called Little Man and I’ve not been able to get it out of my head ever since.

What was supposed to be a documentary about surrogacy, turned into a documentary about faith and life when the filmmaker and her partner had to decide whether to carry the baby to term, thus risking the life of the surrogate, or terminating the pregnancy.

Nicolas is born 100 days premature. Weighing less than one pound, Nicolas’s chances for survival are slimmer than his ‘frog-like’ legs. Every day, it seems there is a new hurdle to jump. A string of medical ordeals and stress. Not to mention the strain on the family unit; filmmaker, Nicole, and her activist Partner, Gwen, struggle with a young daughter at home and an ailing son in the N-ICU.

“little man explores the core of the human spirit as a family realizes that they are capable of enduring what they never thought possible. Through dedication, love and commitment to the sheer force that is family, the miracle of life extends its hand to all of us. Do we choose to grab on?”

Why blog about this? Well, the DVD has just been released and as it is an Independent Production, I think they could use all the help they can get. Please forward this link, or this post to everyone you know. I’d love for everyone to see this film and for it to get the recognition and support it deserves.

There are several DVD specials on, as it is a new release. This is definitely one movie that I strongly recommend everyone watch, and everyone buy. I never advocate burning or stealing media, and this is no exception. Please buy this DVD, and not just ‘steal’ it.

Purchase 1 DVD: $27.95

Purchase 1 Soundtrack: $16.95

DVD & CD Soundtrack Combination: SAVE $3

More deals and specials on the website

The DVD also comes with a special section, with deleted scenes and a ‘Family Update” showing Nicolas as he is doing today (in a word… GREAT!)

Little man was shown several times in the US in May, and has won 12 Best Documentary Awards at several Film Festivals, on top of several other awards. It has yet to be shown on Canadian television.

PLEASE check out this website. PLEASE watch the trailer. PLEASE buy this DVD. It will make you want to call everyone you know and tell them how much you love them.

Love to you all,
Lance

What Have You Done Today, To Make You Feel Proud?

2006-06-26T12:10:00.000-04:00

Pride (pr d) n.
1: A sense of one's own proper dignity or value; self-respect.
2: Pleasure or satisfaction taken in an achievement, possession, or association.

Gay Pride was started with the Stonewall Riots in NYC, June 1969. After several abusive raids on local Gay Bars, NYC Finest (Any by that, I mean those fierce drag queens) fought back against the police brutality and bribery and scandal. They fought back and never stopped fighting.

Over the past 37 years, the Gay / Lesbian (et al) community has been continuing the fight against oppression and discrimination. We have been fighting for acceptance and tolerance and have been made several huge leaps in those years.

No longer locked up in jail for "indecent" acts. No longer sent to asylums for mental dysfunction. No longer kicked out of restaurants, stores and jobs, or at least having the law on our side if we are. We can now get married. We can now adopt children together. We can now walk down most streets without fear of getting our asses kicked (or killed) on a regular basis.

Pride Week in Toronto has just wrapped up for another 51 weeks. My week has been filled celebrating the TRUE meaning of Pride. I celebrate the achievements we have all made, on a national or global level (such as lobbying for Human Rights), and the achievements we have all personally made in our own lives (such as coming out, being confident of ourselves, living through suicidal thoughts, pushing forward and fighting for what’s duly yours). Every year before Pride, I imagine all the fun I will have dancing, drinking with friends, swimming, going to this event or that… but as the official day approaches, I always get over come with a huge sense of joy and love for my brethren.

As I was helping The Boyfriend host brunch for our ‘family’ yesterday, I found myself cutting up fruit salad and I almost started crying just thinking how happy I am that, in my life, I could have a boyfriend to host brunch with. How happy I am that Cell Phone Boy’s mother was going to be joining us. How happy I am that I lived in a time where I could be myself and love whomever my heart chooses.

I almost cried when we were standing on a roof top, having wine cocktails I looked down onto Church and Wellesley Streets (The unofficial home base of Toronto Pride) and saw, literally hundreds of thousands of people; young and old; human, feline and canine; skinny and not; queer and straight and everything in-between; white, black, and brown all covered in red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet. Hundreds of thousands of people who know that EVERY HUMAN should be proud of who they are, no matter what the church or the government or conservatives or anyone else thinks of us.

I almost cried when I lay down to bed with The Boyfriend. Spending the entire day looking at him, thinking how much I loved him. Stealing kisses on the dance floor. Holding hands. I’m in love with the most wonderful man on the planet, and I am able to tell the world how wonderful he is, without fear, without hatred, without an ounce of concern.

It’s a pretty good time to be here.

To The Stonewall Girls: Thanks for kicking some ass. Thanks for opening doors that were held shut for so long. Thanks you for making it possible for us to live fearlessly. Many of you have been killed fighting for what you believe in. Many of you were abused and jailed countless times for trying to live your lives. Thanks for your strength and confidence and for giving me Pride. This week is for you! I celebrate for you!

To all my old friends: Cell Phone Boy, The Great Scot, Her Royal Pinkness, Puma, Cousin Janet, The Philantropist, Halfaneese, Lorne, Dray-gun, Val & Gail etc: Thanks for celebrating a great weekend with me. Thanks for being such great friends by accepting me and yourself. Wish you all a life filled with pride and acceptance.

To all my new friends: Stephanie, Brad, Josh, Peter, Tiff, Laura, Lorne, Wayne, Craig, etc: It was great to meet you. Here’s hoping we run into each other at some point in the future.

To The Boyfriend: You are the most wonderful man in the world. Thanks for loving me. Thanks for letting me love you.

Enjoy life.
Happy Summer.

Live Fearlessly!

2006-06-23T21:18:00.000-04:00

Eartha Kitt Cha Cha Heels UK TV

Purrrrrrrrrrrrfect!

Helping Others Is Good For Your Health

2006-06-23T20:30:00.000-04:00

From The Toronto Star

It's the mantra of the 21st century: Work out, eat right and stay healthy. Today, it's more important than ever.

In Canada, heart disease is the No. 1 killer. Five million Canadians suffer from this ailment, making it the greatest burden on our national health care system. Obesity is not far behind.

In our quest to look and feel healthy, we'll eliminate entire food groups from our diet, swallow fistfuls of unproven herbal remedies or indulge in a small nip or a tiny tuck from time to time.

But what if we told you that volunteering at your local food bank is better than a multivitamin?

Usually described as the act of giving of oneself to benefit others, we believe that volunteering is actually about receiving. It is a "selfish" act that keeps the body healthy and it comes highly recommended.

Any type of good work will bring volunteers positive emotions and attitudes.

Even thinking about helping others boosts our health.

Harvard University psychologist David McClelland had a group of students watch a film about Mother Teresa's work in the Calcutta slums. All the students did was sit and watch. But in response to the film, tests on students revealed an increase in immunoglobulin A, a disease-fighting antibody.

According to a Health Canada report, volunteering creates support networks, social relationships and, above all, community cohesiveness. This, in turn, leads to positive health outcomes such as lowered blood pressure, strengthening of the immune system, lower premature death rates, as well as fewer instances of health risk factors, such as heart disease.

Truly, there is no mystery to being a volunteer.

It can be a simple act of mowing your neighbour's lawn or walking your grandmother's dog. It's not a pastime for seniors and stay-at-home moms or dads only. It's accessible to all who are willing to make the time.

By combining healthy eating habits and regular exercise with volunteering, Canadians will go a long way to meeting a looming national health crisis.

Craig and Marc Kielburger are founders of Free the Children and co-authors of Me to We. With this column, they are exploring the impact of global issues on young people in developing nations and what it means to youth in the GTA.

Read the entire article

Whatever, whatever! I Can Do What I Want!

2006-06-23T02:36:00.000-04:00

Okay. So, by “I’m Baaaaaaaaaaaack!” I did in fact mean that I’m back into blogging. However, I never promised that I’d be back to a fast start.

I had the urge to get right back into this, but I have been so out of practice, that I’ve forgotten to sit down and do it. However, I shall give you a brief run down of my past few months…..

- Broke up with The Boyfriend. Broken hearted. Cried. Squish squish, Darling. Squish squish.

- Started having the occasional cigarette, now and then.

- Celebrated Cell Phone Boy, The Halfaneese and Her Royal Pinkness’ birthdays.
- Was named in 'Fashion' Magazine as one of Toronto's 25 Top colourists.

- Had a visit from Mom (#2- Jerry).

- Emotions ran deep and had a few fallings-out with good friends… all patched up now.

- Had a visit from The German Surgeon.

- Went to 5 screenings at the Insideout Toronto Gay & Lesbian Film Festival. Most notable movies being little man & Another Gay Movie .

- Spent a lot of time with my good friend Leela
- Have been going full force with workouts and diet. Actually went THREE FULL WEEKS without meat (except fish/seafood), carbs (cheated occasionally) or booze (cheated more than occasionally, but not a lot). Updates and measurements soon.

- Puppy-sat Jasper three times.

- Was offered 7th row tickets to see Madonna in Montreal, including VIP passes to a Madonna Party afterwards at ‘Parking’, where (rumour has it) Esther, herself, would be in attendance.

- Found out my Mom (#1- Bio-Mom) was not going to be able to come visit. Major surgery and a blood pressure measuring something near 200, apparently, mean no travel.

- Got back together with The Boyfriend (A LOT more on this one later!!!!)

- Turned down said Madonna tickets.

- Now we’re into Gay Pride Week Festivities.

So much to write about. So much to mention. So much to foreshadow. It’s all too much for one homosexual.

Where should I begin? Should I just start fresh; consider this the lowdown and continue on? Or need I elaborate on some of the finer points?

Decisions. Decisions.

I'm Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

2006-06-16T03:05:00.000-04:00

Yeah, so it’s been a while. Get over it. I’m back now.

I’ve been off the whole ‘blog thing’ for quite some time. Those of you who know me, know why. There’s been a whole lot of things going on in my life over the past 7 weeks, but “everything’s coming up roses” and I’m ready to get back to business.

Sorry for the absence.

Sorry for being aloof.

I promise to never do it again… at least until the next devastating-life-changing-heart-break. But that that will never happen again.

Trust that I am back. Forgive me if it takes a few days to get back into the full swing of things.

Love to you all. I’ll fill you in soon.

PS: From now on... no more hiding behind the curtains. I'll be upfront and honest... about everything... career; love; life; home; bowel movements. It's all gonna be here for you to read. Well, maybe not the bowel shit... uh, I mean stuff.

PPS: Darka: Glad to hear from you. Look forward to keeping in touch.

Happy Friend-iversary, Cell Phone Boy.

2006-05-26T10:39:00.000-04:00

1:1 In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

1:2 And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

1:3 And God said, Let there be light: and there was Cell Phone Boy.

Without trying to sound too hokey, I just wanted to tell the story about meeting the (in)famous Cell Phone Boy. A meeting that took place 2 years ago today.

Having just moved to Toronto weeks earlier, I found myself in Bell World waiting to get served from one of the energetic, enthusiastic, informed and non-pushy sales experts that one comes to expect from Retail Outlets. Instead, I got Cell Phone Boy. This lack luster, couldn’t-care-less employee that only wanted to serve me because I was wearing (what he refers to as) my ‘Cock Pants’.

“I need a cell phone.”
“See one you like?”
“Well, this is what I need. I travel. I like outside display. I don’t need games. I don’t need a camera. The backlight needs to match the keypad light.”
“Well, here are some. Really, it doesn’t matter to me. You pick.”

For the first time ever, I was being served by a commissioned sales person that was not trying to push me into buying all the bells and whistles that go along with cell phone technology. We spent more time talking about the fact that we both had just moved to the city, than we did talking about mobility. We discovered that I was a hairstylist and he needed a new hairstylist. He had just moved from Alberta. I had just moved from Yellowknife. In just over an hour I was all hooked up to the Bell Network and he had my business card.

Two days later, he was in my chair getting my haircut and I told him of my (now defunct) website. The website that he got my email address from and emailed to see if I wanted to hang out. And so it begins….

Within weeks we were known to our friends as RandyLance, due to the fact that we did EVERYTHING together. If I went to a movie, he was there. If he was at cocktails, I was there. We could call each other and say, “Oh, we have plans with Suzy B. tonight.” Or “We’re going to see ___________ movie on Saturday with Rae.” We knew each others social schedule, because they were one and the same.

The past two years have been filled to overflowing with Madonna. Beth Orton. Sarah Brightman. Liza Minnelli. Tori Amos. Margaret Cho. Tracy Turnblad. Elpheba and Galinda. Alexander Keiths. Line Dancing. Drag Queens. Line dancing drag queens. Mormon costumes. Three turkeys & a chicken. Dinners out. Dinners in. Thousands of tears and millions of laughs. Roller skating. Lap dances. Break-ups. Make-ups. And one hell of a mullet.

No offence to anyone else, but I’ve never known anyone who has been able to make me laugh more. Nobody that I’ve trusted more. He’s my number 1 and I wouldn’t give him up for the world.

Happy Second Friend-iversary, Cell Phone Boy. Looking forward to several more.

NOT What It Sounds Like! Read To The End Before Getting Nervous.

2006-05-10T11:51:00.000-04:00

It Was Bound To Happen Sooner Or Later.

There’s been something I’ve been wanting (needing) to do lately, and this was the morning, like it or not. It has been too long, and I needed some serious physical contact.

So I woke early and showered. I really made sure that all areas of my body were clean and dry. No cheek left unturned. My hair was perfect. I had sexy 5 o’clock shadow that I kept. I’m just tanned enough to look ethnic and mysterious without looking like leather. Cute underpants. Cute jeans. Subtle, yet sexy top. Check. Check. Check. Off I go.

I rollerbladed over to Church Street, where I found my destination; a small, secluded door on street level of a brick building. I double checked the discreet signage, took a deep breath and walked in. Rollerblades off, I made my way upstairs.

I sat for what seemed like hours, but was more like 6 minutes, contemplating the large jar of condoms just sitting there, looking at everyone else. Some sitting, some chatting like old friends, some wandering aimlessly. And me, all alone staring everywhere, trying not to look nervous. But how could I not? It has been too long. I’m not even sure if I know what to do.

Then I saw him.

A hot gay man, late 30’s, dishevelled hair, five o’clock shadow to match my own. A chest so broad I could play a game of dominoes on it. And a bum so tight he was bouncing off the walls. He looked over at me and stopped. No words, just a quick wave of the hand to let me know I could follow. I should follow. I would follow.

He led me into a room. Average sized room, small bed in one corner, a table for my belongings in another. And a chair for him to claim, as he ordered me onto the bed. He wanted to check me out before we got started, “Head to toe”. Then he told me to undress, but only to underpants; “Leave them on… for now”. Dirty.

He started with the face. Gentle touches with his big strong hands. The grace of a professional as he slowly touched my scalp, neck and shoulders. Slowly moving down, I leaned forward so he could rub his moisturized hands over my smooth back. Moving to the front, feeling my newly developed chest and ab muscles. “I can feel your heart beating.” He was so gentle, it was the stuff fantasies are made of. Constantly reminding me to “Relax” and “Take deep breaths”.

I knew the time was close when he asked me to, finally, lie down. Soft hands now move to my legs, and I resisted the temptation to laugh out loud. Then the inevitable happened. “Now, I want you to pull down your underpants.” I though he was being polite by turning around, but it turns out he was just getting protection on. Safety first. His newly latexed hand knowingly moved around my man bits. Gentle, yet firm. Just enough pressure as to not make me uncomfortable, but still letting me know he was in charge. I though it was strange that he asked if I wanted him to explore my “backside”. I figured he would just do whatever he wanted, but I’m glad he asked. Very polite. Equally polite, I responded, “No, Thank you.”

It didn’t last as long as I imagined. I think I was in and out of the room in around 25 minutes. Honestly, I would have been embarrassed under other circumstances, but not today. I got what I needed. He got what he needed. It was perfect. Little chit-chat, just got right down to what we both knew we were there for.

All in all, a good start to the day. I mean, how can your day go wrong when your annual medical check up goes smoothly, and your doctor gives you a clean bill of health?

I Need a Life!

2006-05-05T10:30:00.000-04:00

I Am Jan!

Brainy and a little introverted, you tend to think life is a lot worse than it actually is. And while you may think you're a little goofy looking, most people consider you to be a major babe.

What Brady Are You?

No One Is Ever Too Rich To Throw Away A Friend!

2006-05-04T01:32:00.000-04:00

Just wanted to make notice that I have just, again, updated my links. You will notice the most recent addition of:

- Mom & Dad #2. Old friends from yesteryear. I lived with them for a while, and referred to them as ‘Mom & Dad”, a nickname that has stuck to this day. They live in St. Albert, Alberta… also the birthplace of Cell Phone Boy.

- Yatabazah. This is the blog of one of the Dollie Guys I talked about in my last post. I also added their Dollie Website to my links list. (A Hitchcock fan! Man after my own heart!)

- Yer Mom, and Other News. This is my friend, Keet’s, blog. He’s the one I just reunited with after a seven year separation.

So, please, support the blogging industry. Click away and see if you like their stuff.

(Picture from Yatabazah’s blog. Not that I had permission for it. Maybe he will post a comment giving me permission to use it. Who knows? Otherwise, I’ll be in court in a few months. Only time will tell. I hope he knows that you can't get blood from a stone... or money from a guy that's broke.)

Dollie Weirdness

2006-05-03T14:42:00.000-04:00

Several weeks back, I got an email from Christini Martini:

“oh my god check out these websites. These 2 gay hotties living in Greece who play with dolls and customize their hair and put them in their underpants...

Very bizarre even for me. Might be good blog material for you though.”

Intrigued, I checked out The Website, and she was right. Very Bizarre. Very good blog material. I needed the past month to digest this info, try to figure out what I was looking at and let it all sink in.

So these two grown men… play with dolls… collect them… do their hair… make videos… even a Dollie Blog! All sorts of Dollie Weirdness.

Unfortunately, Blogger only allows me to put up 5 pictures per post, so I couldn’t show you all I wanted too. There’s more porn. More strangeness. More ethnic. Loads of underpants!
Click here for more photos.

They have Dollie Strangeness!

They Have Dollie Porn!

They Have Ethnic Dollies!

Well, I suppose everyone needs a hobby.

Xanadu! Xana-Don't! Xana-Never Should Have!

2006-05-02T01:07:00.000-04:00

So, Cell Phone Boy came over tonight. And continuing with the Roller-Camp theme of the weekend, he brought over XANADU! Neither of us had actually seen it before, just referenced it repeatedly. And let me tell you…

If you’ve never seen it before, go rent it now. For, if you don’t, you will never know how bad it is. You will never really understand how much I am not exaggerating when I say that this movie epitomizes everything that is early eighties rock musicals. And not necessarily in a good way.

Cheesy Special effects.
Obscure musical numbers.

Odd Animated 'Fish' sequence?
Grasping at straws for some sort of plot line.
Bad segways. (Really REALLY bad!)
All around... Good Times!

So, here are the basics: Olivia Neutron-Bomb plays Kira, a muse, daughter of Zeus, one of eight sisters. You know what it’s like. Well she… muses (?) Sonny (Michael Beck of nothing else fame) into opening a new bandstand / roller rink / rock hall. His partner, Danny (the amazing Gene Kelly – who apparently only did it because they were filming close to his home, so he could still spend time with his family) we discover, was also once… mused (?) by ONJ, back in 1945. And, well, that pretty much sums it up.

There are, essentially, no musical numbers in the first 30 minutes, but then the last 60 is ALL musical numbers. They're so bad, they're good. It has more camp than summer. It has more cult status than Kabbalah, Scientology and David Koresh combined.

Xanadu: Where magic stops and the time never ends.
Wait, I think I got that backwards.