Like a virgin, touched for the very first time

Apologies in advance, we have another skinny bitch this week. Get a load of Cate Blanchett, y'all. She's Wednesday's PIE and she is fabulous. If she never did another thing, she'd have my big gay undying admiration for her turn as Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen (watch the trailer), in the movie of the same name.How incredible was she in that? Well, she didn't stop there. Nope. She nabbed the plum role of Galadriel in the LOTR movies (who wouldn't have KILLED to be an elf in one of those?)(liar), and she rocked it. Anyway, she's the PIE because I watched Elizabeth again the other night and was transfixed. That is a great movie. By all means, catch it if you haven't. Especially if you're a big 'mo. Yeah, I can't figure exactly why, but it's one of those flicks, guys. It had been a while since I'd seen it, and I never realized that Daniel Craig (aka New Bond) was the assassin priest. That slow motion scene where he's stalking Lizzie and his clerical robes are flowing behind him? Schwing! {{Have I mentioned that I'm bringing "schwing" back?}} I also hadn't remembered that Christopher Eccleston was the Duke of Norfolk. Errrr...yum! {{You can't rush these things}} One role I did remember was Joseph Fiennes as Dudley. Hmmm. I guess it's not such a great mystery why this movie is gay iconic.Forget the boys, though, it's mostly because Cate is fabulous as the bastard turned monarch. And any queen who tosses off lines like "I will have one mistress here...and no master!" is gonna prick the queer ears. Follow that up with the pivotal transformation to the virgin scene and fuggedaboutit. We're frothy.And she's Aussie, yo. Hot.

One eye is taken for an eye

You can talk at me until you are blue in the face, but you will never convince me that people aren't affected by the phase of the moon. Especially the full moon. And especially crazy people.

How's your day going?

It's such a shame for us to part

I intentionally avoid loitering around You Tube because I know it would quickly become another time suck for me. It's stuff like this that does nothing to allay my fear. Ummm, Buffy's unaired pilot? Pull up a chair. God, I miss her so much.

Don't try to live your life in one day

I'm loathe to make one of those "no time to post" posts. After all, I had time to watch Dark Angel last night and time to pull one off after. No, no, I wasn't thinking of Jessica Alba when I yanked it. Well, maybe a little bit. I am extra busy this week, though. My "associate" is on vacation so I am one man doing the work of three. You knew he was the worker and I was the slacker, right? Despite all that, a few anniversaries rolled around this week. The blogging thing? Apparently I've been at it for about a year. I say "about" because there were a few hitches in the beginning. Like when I first realized someone was reading and I deleted everything. Eventually I put it back up and here it is a year later, and I'm still so fucking reticent to divulge lots of personal stuff. Dunno. I do think that I've made a little progress. Like lots of you know who I am, what I do, where I live, what I dream of. Change doesn't happen in a day. Well, it does, but it's the little things each day that add up. It's not castles and kings, it's the little things, my babies. It's been a year. I'm not sure there'll be another year. I LOVE these blogs, don't get me wrong, but what I really love is reading them, maybe leaving a pithy comment or two (often, tragically, trying to shift the spotlight to ME). For now, I can't express loudly or warmly enough what a treasure y'all have become to me. Some of the coolest people I know, I know through this lil' community. Is that sad? I think it's awesome.

Here's another anniversary I noticed last night. I've been doing the Fitday thing for four months now. Yes, yes, THAT again. I mention it only because it's been a boon to me and I if it can help someone else, what's a few extra lines on here? Just skim, bitch. Anyway, here's the chart of what's happened to my weight since I started. Yes, despite all that talk about abs from last year, I was steadily creeping up in weight. Now 188 on me is not bad at all. I'm 6'1", but I feel so much better now. My aim now is to gain five pounds or so, but preferably lean mass....some muscle, and if it's ass-centric muscle, the more the merrier. WAY more importantly than weight, though, is the Fitday has allowed me to track my nutrition stuff more closely. Make sure I'm getting all the nutrients I need. I decided when I started that if I had THAT down, the rest would be what it would be. And here again, each day is a brand new life. Nothing I can do about yesterday, but lots I can do about today. Little changes, most of them practically imperceptible, add up to a lot. But again, it's not about the outside, it's about taking care of the inside. Our insides are what really count, right? I almost kept a straight face on that one. Heh.Thanks to Kyle over at Freakgirl for pointing me to my boo.

The winner takes it all

I was so excited to watch Amelie Mauresmo come through and win the Wimbledon title this morning. She has always been a supremely talented player, but physicality isn't everything in tennis. A lot of the game is played in the head. She had a reputation for letting her nerves get the best of her. I rooted for her all the harder because of it. Sometimes when you want something so badly, you shake at the prospect of actually having it. Today, she dispelled that fear. It's true that she made her Grand Slam breakthrough in Australia in January, but she did so by default when Henin-Hardenne retired with a stomach ailment. Never mind that Mauresmo was comfortably in command. This one she had to play through to the end. She had to do what I imagine would be the most difficult thing in all of tennis-- serve for a Wimbledon Championship. She did it. She did it at 27. And she did it old school, serving and volleying more than any other player at the Championships this year, man or woman. Mazel tov to Mauresmo (my lesbo)!

Listen to the music of the night

From all indications, my neighbor's kid has taken up the electric guitar. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna drive a railroad spike through my left temporal lobe now.

Before I do that, I have more aural news to report. JT's new single makes me wanna move it. Thanks to Max for the heads up.

It's written in the stars

Although you might have been hard on yourself recently, now it's time to leave your value judgments behind. You have the ability to change your mind quickly when you receive information about the instability of a situation. Not only can you do an effective about-face (or at least a change of direction), but you also can surprise others with the suddenness and completeness of this shift.

I felt like sharing my horoscope for today because it suggests I have the strength to make the changes I need. It gives me hope. Plus, well, hard on.

A distant ship's smoke on the horizon

It's been a long time for most folks, but the absence of Six Feet Under is still fresh for me. Will I ever stop watching that last segment of the final episode? I know I promised to shutup about it. My excuse is that Peter Krause has been Emmy-nominated for his amazing performance as Nate Fisher. Well, the accolades continue unabated, because now he's the FRIDAY MEAT. The writing on SFU was awesome, but Krause wrung every emotion there is out of that role, didn't he? Nate was a complex character, a wild child who always tried to make everyone else happy. As played by Krause, you either wanted to hang out with him, or do him, or be him. Or, if you're like me, all three. I love all three of these pictures of him. The first one is from Sundance . Roll out of bed and throw on a toque is a GOOD look for him. The middle one is from SFU. I was always charmed by his interaction with the girl(s) who played his TV daughter. And he just looks so J.Crew scrubbed clean All-American in this last one. Plus, I mean, he supports the Komen Foundation, too? Dreamy. On a personal tangent, I vowed that I'd never run a marathon again (SO time consuming, yo), but I've lately been considering a run to raise money for Komen, so don't be surprised if I hit you up. NOTE: The title lyric (you know ALL the titles are lyrics, right?) is from Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb. NARM!

What kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?

Father's Day had me thinking about whether I'll ever have children. I think I already mentioned a striking moment that occurred last year. I was holding my youngest niece, she was a year old at the time, when my father was asked how many grandchildren he had. He responded, pointing to the babe in my arms, "She's the seventh, and last." Threw me. Hard. I can't really argue with the point, but it struck me that he was not expecting kids from me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not even sure I want them. I wonder what kind of father I'd be. I also wonder what kind of father would turn his kid out for being gay. The title lyric from Pink (admittedly, I'm not normally a fan of the Pink/pink) is directed toward Bush. The line that precedes it is "What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?" Good questions, both. Who does that? Forget everything else he's done for a second. What does that say about this father of two daughters? The beautiful picture above really drives that point home, doesn't it? It's an ad for an important resource, The Ali Fortney Center, in New York, which provides care and shelter to GLBT youth who are turned out by their families. It seems that this is a problem on the upswing because more kids are coming out sooner, often to negative result. Are there organizations like this one in most major cities?That's youth, but there are new resources for the other end of a big queer's life, too. Gay retirement communities! How fun does that sound? I'm guessing they might get a lot of straight people who would want to live there, too. I can see the hags lining up now. RainbowVision (hee!) is in Santa Fe and had its grand opening in June. They have some sweet condos and townhomes, a cabaret (of course!), theaters and restaurants and all the amenities a geriatric fag could want. Better yet is that they are building one in Palm Springs, y'all.

ADDED: As the day has worn on, the man above has morphed into my big, black sex cop and he's holding our adopted son. OK, I'm hopeless. Fucking sue me. Oh, and I felt the need to include the other ad from the Ali Fortney Center site, because it's just too beautiful not to.

Gimme the truth, even if it hurts me

I caught a couple movies this weekend. Superman Returns? I thought it was excellent. Brandon Routh was spot on. The special effects were phenomenal. The airliner scene alone is worth the price of admission. They laid out hundreds of millions on this one and it shows on the screen. I give it an enthusiastic recommendation as one of the better, but certainly not the best, of the recent crop of comics inspired movies. Oh, and it has Parker Posey in it, so how bad can it be? Don't answer that.The movie that I not only recommend, but that I NEED you to see is An Inconvenient Truth. This is a riveting documentary and if you're at all like me, you think you have a handle on global warming, but you probably don't. You NEED to see this film, guys. Is that sounding condescending or preachy? If so, I apologize in advance, but this is way more CRISIS LEVEL and IMMINENT than I had imagined. It's not just Al Gore saying so. It's basically every scientist knowledgable in this field saying so. The only people denying it are people whose salary depends on it being denied. It may not mean catastrophe in my lifetime, but I care about my nieces and nephews leading a full life and it looks like that's not a given. And that's not an exaggeration. Dudes, I'm not prone to being sucked in by propaganda or scare tactics. And though I do admit that I tend to like my men wooden, Al Gore is NOT all that. If you think I might have been taken, please see it and then show me the error of my ways. If you already know all this, I hope you are doing something to make a change. I've started today. I am gonna work as hard as I can to stay frightened and aware and make real changes in my own life to make a difference. It's not all gloom and doom in the movie, either. It seems like the world is waking up to this crisis. The Kyoto Protocol, which seeks to reduce greenhouse gases, has been ratified by all the industrial nations, except two. The U.S. and Australia. Shame. And it's no surprise that the US is BY FAR the largest contributor of carbon into the environment. I've added an easy sidebar link to a site that shows you what you can do NOW to make a real change. Start by seeing the movie, OK?

What kind of girl do you take me for?

I know I'll have at least one detractor, but this week's PIE is HAWT, y'all! But be reminded, the PIE is not really about the pretty or even the sexy, although Miss Nelly does epitomize a quality that I most enjoy in women, namely, manliness. One of my friends said he first knew I was gay when I waxed rhapsodic about Penelope Cruz. The main reason Nelly is wearing the banner this week is that her new CD, Loose, which I picked up old school-stizz, aggravatingly shrink-wrapped from a real live store, is the SHIT. Oh, I just realized. You know when I say Nelly, I mean Furtado, right?That boy rapper with the verchacta Band-aid is so nancy, but so not the PIE. Anyway, loving Miss Furtado's album. Loving everything about it. Thinking of being it for Halloween. (Holla, Jack! ::sigh:: I miss Will and Grace.) I profess my love despite the fact that I'm not a huge fan of every damn song needing a guest rapper intro/bridge/outro, and La Furtado certainly suffers from an acute case of that malady. And then there is this lil' snippet where Nelly takes hold of the rap reigns herself in the mega-hit, Promiscuous:

Roses are red
Some diamonds are blue
Chivalry is dead
But you're still kinda cute

Ummm, sometimes things are so, so bad that they loop back around to good, you know? Like Richard Simmons is one anklet away from being straight? Similar phenomenon. LOVE. IT. And her. Grab a fork, kids.

A little shy and sad of eye

It hasn't really been a long holiday weekend for moi, but it had that "shoulda been" feeling to it. I worked a half day on Saturday and a full day on Monday, then had Tuesday off. I feel off kilter. Yesterday had a definite Sunday vibe about it, only where was the thick paper? Where was that vestigial pang of guilt about skipping church for something like ten years running? Where was the pre-shower manscape and whank? Oh wait. That last part was just like Sunday. Only the shaving part was just a touch-up since it'd only been two days since Sunday. But hey, that meant extended whank time. PS? My toes, even curled (especially curled?), still looked fab from the pedi.

What there was of my holiday emphasized the relaxing. Some good friends have a lake house nearby and I spent most of Saturday and Sunday lounging around on their deck, mixed in with a little time on their boat and jet skis (FYI: in Russian, they are "jetskis"). We had a nice relaxing time there. Good food, good friends, benign conversation. When I wasn't there, it seemed like I was running, Forrest-style. I did 4.5 miles on Friday, 5.5 miles on Sunday and 6 miles Tuesday morning. The pace? Brisk. The feeling? Effortless. Those kind of runs crop up every once in a great while and when they do, they are to be savored. If you're a runner, you get that. The run yesterday was at 7.5 minutes/mile pace, normally an effort for me, and it felt like I could go forever. Two of these holiday runs were on an old canal towpath that connects my little burg to the next one. It looks exactly like this:Does it get more patently rural Midwest than that? On the Sunday morning run, I never saw another soul, save the rabbits and herons and groundhogs and bullfrogs, along the entire path. Bliss. Part of the credit for the effortless runs has gotta be the shoes. Holla, Mars! I just picked up the Nike Air Max 360s and I am truly, madly, deeply in love with them.I know there are serious runners who sneer at Nike, but those are the same people who sneer at Starbucks and Microsoft and every other ginormous corporation. Didn't you get the memo? Being knee-jerk anti-establishment is SO passe'. Anyway, I have a narrow foot (though long, size 11, and you know what they say about men with big feet) and Nike running shoes tend to run narrow. They fit me snug (aka like a dream). And with the full length Max Air sole, they are like running on clouds. Bonus is that I got them for a steal on eBay. Oh, and they're blue, my fave. ::sighs contentedly:: Now if I can just resist buying those Nike iTunes shoes when they come 'round.

Whose broad stripes and bright stars

I hope the U.S. Americans amongst you had a wonderful holiday weekend, celebrating the Independence Day by mixing explosive fireworks and copious alcohol, as is tradition. Me? I love a QUEEN, so I've always had mixed feelings about the day. This does make one wish to wrap onself in the flag though:Thanks for the photo goes to one of my fave gay Buddhists from Down Under, Bodhi. Do you find it odd that I love more than one gay Buddhist from Down Under? I don't either.

How does it feel like to let forever be?

Here at Pipedreams, it's not only about beefcake and bon mots, people. We're here to serve as well, and in light of that we offer this link to a number of simple, informative online tests that assess your health. They are very easy, kinda fun, and may help you get a handle on your current physical and mental state. Mine were mostly good. Mostly. Damned if that niggling mood disorder didn't wreak havoc with my G.P.A. once again. Devil! Anyway, have at it.

As part of my ongoing quest to optimize my fitness, it's HAIRCUT DAY today. What? A day at the spa is as good as therapy. Oh, and I'll finally be getting that pedicure I tried to schedule last month. I get off on denial, so it'll be that much better for the wait.

Added: I thought I'd pass along a little update from my Salon Day. My first pedicure? Divine. Or, to borrow a word from my new taste and style sensei: divoon! And I know it's already the weekend Down Under and the Aussies have left the building, but Bodhi, the nail specialist was the most delightful 21 y.o. man/boy with highlights, jewelry and tattoos in the most pleasing combination. Think Justin's violin playing sweetie from Season 2.

Burn, burn like a wicker cabinet

If you’ve been hanging around here very long you’ve noticed that normally I prefer my MEAT marbled. I may not love chunk to the degree this guy does, but I like a lil’ fat on it. Oh, and I also like it aged and....errrr....oh fuck it, I like it older and a bit hairy and hyper-masculine. ::sigh:: Sorry, but these MEAT metaphors are wearing me out, y’all. So it’s MEAT FRIDAY again, and...... I’m gonna go against everything I just said. Again (see yesterday's models). Like those runway models, this guy is younger and he’s hairless and he’s very pretty. In honor of seeing Superman Returns this weekend, I had considered Mr. Brandon Routh. But instead, we’re feasting on a supporting cast member. He’s James Marsden and he’s the MEAT. I love him in the X-Men movies. Is it weird that I really get off on the idea of Cyclops burning me to a cinder?James is currently working on Enchanted, a Disney movie that combines live action and CGI stuff. That’s not normally a formula that would excite me, but the cast also includes Susan Sarandon, Patrick Dempsey, and Idina Menzel (!). Oh, and I know a girl who’s been hired to sing for it. Yay!

So sexy it hurts

Yes, I realize it's not Friday. I'm teetering on the precipice of manic-depression, but I'm not crazy. Who says we can only look at pretty men on Meat Friday? Oh. I guess I kind of did. Well, I'm tired of playing by the rules of someone else's game. Oh wait. I just said it was my game. Call me crazy, then. I'd be in good company. My saintly grandma did two stints in the nut hatch and she came out a better woman each time. I have the pottery and woven crafts to prove it. RIP, Lizzy.These pics are from the recent Spring 2007 show of DSquared2, designed by the hotty Canadian twin Caten brothers. Honestly, one word is sexier than the next in that phrase, isn't it? You know I love a man in a suit. I also love a man out of a suit, a man in shorts, and a man in minimalist swimwear. Of course these bodies do not occur in nature. Duh. That's the best part. A special note should be made of this guy's fabulous shoes.Methinks someone is so ahead of the curve. We'll close with the money shot, which actually started the show. ::ring, ring:: "Hello, Marketing? Yeah, that target you were looking for? Bulls-eye."link via Queerty

I'm not meant to live alone

If you've been around here long, you've heard me go on ad nauseum about selling my house and making a new start far, far away from here. You won't be surprised to hear that you're not the only one who has to listen to it. I tell anyone I can pin down for a few minutes. So last night my phone rang. It was a cold call from a friend of a friend of a client who heard I might want to sell my house. They are moving here within the next few weeks and really want to look at my place. So I guess this is where we see if I really mean business, huh?

Ain't she sweet?

Here's another pretty for you. I have a pair of these greeting me every day by the garage doors when I get home from work. I used to fret about being too precious and girly with these pots, being the mui macho single stud that I am, but then decided this style fits so well with the house and garden and neighborhood that I should just embrace my yin/English cottage bad self. Yin is the female side, right? Oh yeah, that's right. Yang rhymes with whang. Where was I? Oh, my house is kinda traditional ranch-y from the front, so these fit, and kind of glass and patios California-style from the back, so I do more simple things back there. Anyway, sweet, no?
ADDED: Speaking of sweet, I was just watering those roses I showed you a few days ago, when I looked up and saw this little guy (click to enlarge the cuteness).I think he's a baby turtle dove. Normally, I'm not a big fan of them (to me they are a spare step below pigeons/rats on the Nuisance Fauna Scale), but I must admit the wee version is adorable. All together now: "Awwwww!"

Love how she shimmers, the way she shines

Normally I am very open to you expressing your opinions about my likes and dislikes. I welcome it. Well, today is a little different. I still welcome your feedback, but....ummmmm.....tread lightly, bitches. This is my queen. The apple (PIE) of my eye. She's Steffi Graf and she is a goddess walking amongst us. Don't get me wrong, I realize she's not the most gorgeous thing to trod the earth, or even a tennis court for that matter, but she is and always was full of class, dignity, grit, tenacity, spirit, and joy. And just try to tell me you wouldn't kill for those legs. She has tennis accomplishments that are unparallelled.She won 22 Grand Slam singles titles, which is just insane. 22. Six French, four Australian, seven Wimbledon and five US championships. Not only that, but she won the Grand Slam, which is winning all four major tournaments in the same calendar year. Only one other woman in the history of the sport has done that. She gilded that Grand Slam by winning the Olympics that same year so they had to make up a name for it: the Golden Slam. She retired while she was still near the top of her game, and unlike so many sports stars, she stayed retired. She receded from a public life, married fellow tennis legend, Andre Agassi, and she seems to be involved in some commendable charitable work. Oh, and she's a mommy of two. LOVE. HER. I think the cuteness in her lap makes this week's serving PIE ala mode.

No burden is he to bear

Have you read about the latest gay study? Apparently, the more older brothers you have, the more likely you are to be gay. Significantly, the statistics held for biological brothers raised apart, but not for genetically unrelated brothers raised together. It's another argument that queers are born and not raised. It's something we know, but I think the validation is a good thing. You? Do you feel it's helpful or necessary? How about we do our own little informal study? If you're gay, what was your sib situation? I'll start. I have one older brother, but the study indicates that they counted gestations (to include pregnancies ending early or with stillbirth, if the sex of the baby was known) and not just births, so in that case I have two. The reason they did this is because they feel that a mother's immune system may play a part in creating the gay. It recognizes a male fetus as "foreign" and may react to it more strongly with each exposure/gestation, possibly affecting the fetus' brain chemistry or development. If you care to share your family situation, get comment-y, yo.

I'm thinking maybe six feet ain't so far down

OK, this is the last time you'll have to hear about it. I finally (finally!) finished the last season of Six Feet Under last weekend. I had planned to parse it out over a few weeks, thereby extending the farewell, and the enjoyment. Heh. I watched it in 3-4 days. I know that for those who watched it as broadcast it's been almost a year now, but humor me a little, won't you? See how I pretended that this whole damn blog isn't an exercise in humoring me? I'll just say it, guys. This was the best, most satisfying series finale I've ever seen. And that for a series that is easily in my Top Five All-Time (and mightily wrestling for the number one spot). The finale was wonderful--joyful, sad, tragic, quirky, human, fantastical....fitting. And it allowed me to bawl without apology because this was real stuff (unlike when I get manipulated to tears by those bastards at Extreme Home Makeover...which I refuse to watch anymore...I feel soiled after). I loved every episode of the final season, but a post about those would go on and on. A few highlights from the finale:

• Ruth and George come to a prickly understanding. Ruth is unconsolable, but George asks to hold her and he sighs deeply as she lets him. Maybe it wasn't love anymore, but it was something they both needed. Is it wrong that I'd settle for that right now? And don't you think Frances Conroy has a bit of genius? The whole SFU cast is amazing, but she did some crazy shit and yet it was unerringly believable.
  
• David and Keith come to a prickly understanding with each other and their kids. Only with these two, you can really feel the love, and David wouldn't be an easy guy to love, would he (I)? They understand each other's fears better (as a couple and a family) and come to some acceptance. But they are still kids and parents, rude and flawed and real.
• Claire's boyfriend. Ummm....YUM! Who else wants to snack on some Ted? I keep coming back to that scene when Ted takes his naked walk to bed and then he and Claire pose and play with the camera. Divine. The lighting, the white sheets, the quick cuts showing the camera shots of their faces-- I loved it.
  
• Brenda's baby is healthy. She, like David, overcomes her demons. I always assumed that the ghosts in this series were actually manifestations of the fears of the haunted. I re-watched this episode with Alan Ball's commentary and was really interested to hear him say that explicitly. Oh, and baby-wise, I love that they started this final episode with a birth instead of a death.
• David's demon being himself and when he's exorcised it, he wakes to see Nate with the sweetest smile ever.
  
• The closing Breathe Me segment with Claire driving and the montage of the future and each family member's death was brilliant. I couldn't have loved it more. Just perfect. I cried and laughed and cried again in the span of a few moments. Did I already say it was perfect? Oh, and one of David and Keith's boys is gay and has a cute Asian boyfriend. Yay!
  

I've loved, loved, loved other television shows, sure. I've lamented a show's end and missed the characters like I'm missing friends. Yep. But nothing like this. I've never before had such a strong connection to fictional characters (Television characters, anyway. Books are another story). Call me crazy, but I've been mourning their loss the last few days. I can't quite believe I'll get no more peeks into their lives. At the same time, this finale makes me glad I won't. Fitting, satisfying and oddly, comforting. Now I may just have to begin again. Cue Season One. I promise not to talk about it.

Then I'm glad to be back in my own little corner

You are a Social Liberal (73% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (23% permissive) You are best described as a: Strong Democrat Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

link via the lovely and talented J Go

To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny

Here are a few blooms from around Casa ME. I often dream of purging all this and getting a tiny apartment in a vibrant city. Would I miss the gardening? I don't know. I don't think so. I'd adapt. I'd fill up my life with other things. I think. Devil! Damn my indecisiveness. Below are the shrub roses I planted a couple years ago. They are just coming into their own, but this pic misses the peak blooms. They were GORGEOUS last week. Still perty, no? The coreopsis pictured above is spreading like mad underneath my bathroom window. To get the full splendour, you should join me for some champagne and a soak in the garden tub. They look best in the late afternoon sun. So it could be after. Oh, and did you see Mr. Buzzy who flew in just as I snappped the pic?
 

ADDED: That's my yard in the picture, but the house is the neighbor's.

Take me through the darkness to the break of day

There's a Latin phrase used in legal circles: res ipsa loquitur. It means "the thing speaks for itself". I think it applies here.But you know me and you know I have to throw my two cents in. My two cents amounts to three words: Queer. Jewish. Ballerina. 'Nuf said, right? Belly up to the buffet, boys and girls. It's FRIDAY. He's Genre coverboy Micky Friedmann (aka the MEAT).

If you need me, let me know

I've had a traumatic week. Guys, I left my neti pot in Detroit. Not as lyrical as leaving one's heart in San Francisco, but surely as poignant. If you're not an afficionado of the nasal douching, you don't know how huge this is. And it's totally irresponsible (are you sitting?), but I did not have a back-up pot. I know. Reckless! But with today's mail, comes sweet relief. He came. Look at that spout, will you? Just the angle to hit my spot. Also, stainless steel for easy and hygienic clean-up, and who would argue against easy and hygienic being the twin totems when it comes to clean-up? I can hardly wait to break him in.My other current love, in lieu of some olive-skinned confection in jeans and barefeet, is the coffee you see before you. Seriously, as I sit here typing, just thinking about deeply inhaling that fresh bag has me tumescent. No, really, I had to re-adjust the laptop. I've used it for both espresso and for drip coffee, and it never disappoints me. It's warm and rich and nutty....full-bodied....complex and hearty....versatile and well-rounded. Ummm, if you'll excuse me for a moment.