Xmastime's Nuggets on "Gayism"

"Anna, if you could be with any woman in the world, who would it be?"
"Madonna."
"Why?"
"She wrote a book on sex man.. She's gotta know something. What about you?"
"Ani Difranco.. She'd eat me alive. No pun intended.. She is sexxxy.
"I don't know why dudes get all excited about lesbians" our friend Xmastime chimes in. "I see two broads hookin' up and I'm like great, two more chicks who don't want to fuck me. I was talking to my little brother the other day and he was like, aww being gay, it's unnatural or weird or whatever.. and I'm like hey, I wish they all were gay, more chicks for me. But now that you ask, if I was a chick I would like to do... hmmm.. this is a curveball, actually two of 'em. Something about that chick from Scrubs who was also the second Becky on Roseanne. And uh, Laura Ingraham, that right wing chick who pops up on MSNBC from time to time..Smokin' hot.. And just had breast cancer.. She could use some love."

It's Always Something

When I was 6 it was a Cabbage Patch Kid.. or a Pound Puppy
When I was 9 it was a synthesizer.. I fantasized about playing keyboards in a band like the Go Go's or The Bangles
When I was 10 it was a brand new ten speed
When I was 11 it was a Guns & Roses or INXS cassette, a concert tee shirt would be icing, and bangs that curled properly
When I was 12 it was Joey Call, Andy Farrer, Dave Tate, Andrew Roberts and clothes from the Gap so I could look cool in Junior High
When I was 13 it was Guess jeans, Polo shirts, Dave Tate, Mike Morrow, and Casey.. Oh! And I wanted my big brother dead
When I was 14 it was Girbaud jeans, Casey, and becoming a cheerleader
When I was 15 it was my drivers license, a car, and Andrew Roberts again
When I was 16 it was still a car, more clothes, a skinny body, Josh Roberts and a new family
When I was 17 it was a new life, skinnier body, blonder hair, better clothes and college
When I was 19 it was for him to get a divorce, a college degree already, and money
When I was 21 it was still for him to get a divorce, a better car and becoming a news reporter
When I was 22 it was living on the beach in California, better clothes, skinnier body, and a good boyfriend
When I was 24 it was a skinnier body, leaving the boyfriend and a better shift at the news station where I worked
When I was 25 it was more money, better apartment, skinnier body, and Andy Rosenberg
When I was 26 it was a skinnier body, published writer, a four wheel drive truck, season ski pass and Andy Rosenberg
When I was 27 it was skinnier body, get over Andy Rosenberg, move away from Utah
Now that I'm 28 it's becoming a better wife, a better person, write my book, get published, and... skinnier body.. Some things never change. But it's always something, isn't it?

Graffiti Grows in Brooklyn

With the sting of The Surge's departure for Europe and all things rock still smarting, Max and I decided a wander through the streets of Brooklyn was in order. Max and I are regular fixtures on the city sidewalks of our neighborhood, managing at least one stroll a day regardless of sun, rain or snow.

We briefly argued over where today's adventure would take us:
Me: Let's cross The Williamsburg Bridge into the Lower East side, that's always fun.
Max: Nah.. Too noisy. Besides, the subway freaks me out when it roars right by our heads. Too many speeding bicyclists to dodge. My leash is always getting tangled when we move out of their way.
Me: True. Let's walk deeper into Brooklyn. We hardly ever do that.
Max: Yeah, remember why? The guy pleasuring himself behind the van as we walked by? That was no picnic.
Me: I know! Let's take a notebook and write down all the graffiti we always stop to read.
Max: I can dig that. But only if we can play fetch in the park first. And none of this ten minutes and we're done business. I want a full half hour of ball chasing.
Me: Sold! Get your leash.

And so, after the obligatory thirty minutes of fetch, Maxer and I rambled up and down the brick lined streets of Brooklyn. It was ten in the morning, so most respectable folks were still sleeping off hangovers, and the rest of the world was at work. The streets were empty in a Tom Cruise screaming in a ghostly Times Square Vanilla Sky way. Kinda creepy, kinda cool.

Graffiti speaks to me. Am always compelled to stop and read. A mystery person occupying a single moment in time decided this word, this sentence was what they wanted to say to the world. Drunk, sober, joking, serious.. Some of it profound, some of it inane.. but it always means something. A thought in time.. It's like art in that it's my interpretation of the intended message. Was it a well thought out missive? A frenzied spray painting before New York's men in blue moved in for arrest?

We wandered leaf strewn streets, my dog and I.. the Empire State building looming across the East River as dirt colored clouds filtered over her shoulder, the grey backdrop of an angry New Jersey sky. The scent of rain filled our noses, flame colored leaves scratching along pavement filled our ears, November wind with a bite nibbled at our goosepimpled flesh as we observed the graffiti crusades.. Rainbow colored spray paint gang fights and building owners who wage war on that paint with their own.. inevitably the graffiti artists prevail.

Here is what we discovered.. Some are obvious gang tags.. graffiti battles in the concrete jungle, they are words created from made up letters that defy keyboard explanation.. Others are thoughtful messages on the state of the world, some are one word warnings and some are just plain crazy.. But I am only the scribe, I'll leave you to the interpretations...

BIG GIRLS DO BIG THINGS
KUMA
SURF NUTS
AWARE
WE SHOULD BE INDIANS
EAT AT MCSYSTEMS & DRUNK ADDICTIONS, HAVE FREEDOM FRIES, TV PRESCRIBES, MEDICATIONS
HELLBENT
CONTROL
MOAN MOAN MOAN MOAN MOAN
I SPY
BEAT YOUR KIDS!
SOAK TKO
I DON'T LIKE HOTDOGS!
COULDA SHOULDA WOULDA
AUDIO 7DC
IS WACK!
FUCK A SPUNK AS FUCK
CHENEY 9/11
READ ME
THEY LIVE! DO NOT LET THEM USE SOCIOLOGY AS AN EXCUSE FOR ANGLO IMPERIALISM
R.I.P. KVJEICS
Q: WHAT IF I DON'T LIKE CURRY? A: THEN YOU SHOULD MOVE TO A THIRD WORLD SHITHOLE LIKE NIGERIA AND PAKASTAN AND YOU WON'T SEE WHITE PEOPLE
DON'T TAKE SHIT FROM GROWN UPS
YOU ARE YOUR DECISIONS
IT BURNS
FORGET SELF
DARWIN: LIGHT WILL BE THROWN. THAT LIGHT IS NOT FOR SALE OR EXPLOITATION ON THEIR "FREE MARKET"
3 MERE BLACKS, YEAH!
SEX, DRUGS, ROCK & ROLL AT BLACK BETTY!
NO FADING
THIS IS ART, DO NOT TOUCH, FUCK YOU HIPSTER DICKS
SHIT HAPPENS: CHECK YOUR PARADIGM
UNDERSTANDING HUMAN NATURE FREES US TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR OUR FUTURE
LOW CITY
NECK FACE
ONE PEOPLE, ONE PLANET, MAGNIFICENT NATURE
LOVE IS IN GOD
REALITY IS FROM OUTER SPACE
VANDALS IN CONTROL
MR. ANTI-SOCIAL
ART & SANITY = ANARCHY
PLEASE THINK GLOBALLY
YOU ARE WHAT YOU BELIEVE
THE GOD GENES
THE MIND IS A COMPUTER, GOD IS DEFAULT. DON'T BE LAZY

Spelling D-R-U-N-K

Ever tried spelling when drunk? Ain't as easy as you might think. Am pleased to say I made it to the top three in the first annual Bar Matchless Drunk Spelling Bee. Was beat by deadly serious Asian girl. Perpetuation of stereotypes. Had hoped to win one for the dumb, blonde white girls of the world. Not sure what word clinched my loss because it was on my fifth, or was it sixth shot? Anyway, it was a bucket full of shots in a 45 minute period. Good thing I've undergone the rigorous training of my weekly Yagermeister sessions for the past ten years. Ah well. I did come away with a Pabst Blue Ribbon trucker hat parting gift. The envy of every hipster within a three mile radius.

6AM THIS MORNING

"Matt? Really sick. Head spinning, throwing up all night. Don't think I can make it in to work today.

"You sound terrible. Get some sleep you poor thing."

"Yes, yes. Sleep. Sleep good.

Aaaaand scene. The Surge claps at my spectacular performance. I didn't even lie, either.

Am packing my baby's bags for Spain. The Spanish senoritas love them some of The Surge. Whenever the rockboy comes home from touring Spain I'm subject to all manner of fan photos, sexy women draping themselves all over my husband. Is actually quite hot. Speaking of hot, managed to sex up The Surge five times in his 24 hour leave before returning to rock land and guitar wars. Niiiice. Am officially a porn star. Plaid school girl skirt, big boots, pigtails and eyeglasses all made appearances.

Coming soon: pics! Of drunk spelling bee, you v-o-y-e-u-r-s (tricky one, that) not the sex... And that's all youse gonna get outta me in this hungover state.

Back When I Was Hot

"Why are you so angry all the time?"

"It's the overnight shift Henry, the fucking overnights."

"It's not so bad here. Listen, it's quiet. Look, no news managers. We have the candy drawer all to ourselves." He waits for me to crack a smile. "You're no fun anymore."

"I used to be though, right?"

"Yeah, back when you were hot."

"Back when I was hot? I've only been here six months. How bad could it be?"

He looks at me pointedly. "Girlfriend, have you even shaved your legs since you started the graveyard shift? You're broke. Look at you.." He trails off.

"So you aren't attracted to me?"

"I'm gay."

"I know. I'm just saying."

No response

"Don't gay guys find women attractive?"

"Some do, some don't."

"Would you say a majority of gay guys have slept with a woman? You know, to decide it isn't their cup of tea, or do they automatically just know?"

"What, am I the gay ambassador to Monica CUNTry?"

"Very clever. Yes."

"Well, some have, some haven't."

"Would you sleep with me?"

"Not in your state girlfriend. Ever hear of makeup, it's magical! A brush? Does wonders. I might have considered it, back when you were hot, maybe."

Back when I was hot.