Saturday, January 26, 2019
Thursday, January 24, 2019
Saturday, January 5, 2019
Hit the Slopes
The Christmas and New Year celebrations were amazing. A lot of home time, spent watching Christmas movies with Mike and Naveen. Yes, I got the presents I wanted, and it seams they too were happy with the gifts I gave. We now have our living room view back, as the tree was deconsecrated on news day. By this, I mean as I placed the last string of lights in their box, Mike picked up the tree marched to the balcony and tossed it over. The gleam in his eye told me he’d been wanting to do that act for awhile.
The Christmas holiday also brought changes to my relationship. Naveen started a new relationship outside of ours. As I don’t believe in monogamy, (a viewpoint just for me-not others) I was more than happy to encourage this behavior. Right after Thanksgiving He became a snowboarder. A six-foot-two, Indian, snowboarder. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love the outdoors, but sliding down mountains doesn’t not speak to me.
The only interference with our blissful household is that he wants to borrow my car to do this endeavor. Taking my all-wheel drive up the mountain. And hopefully, backdown again. When this happens I receive my German sport wagon back covered in grime. I clutch pearls and clench my jaw every time I lay eyes on my Deutschwagon, ice packed and mud covered.
I fear asking him to get my car cleaned. This is because I am so obsessive about my car being perfect that I don’t trust just how he may clean my wolfsbaby. When I attempted to explain the difference between a brush verses brushless car wash I just recieved an eye roll. So... clearly I’m the only one who sees the difference in quality car maintenance. Yes, I didn’t get a chance to put a solid wax on before winter. But, you just can’t send you car through a car wash with those rolling brushes. What are we? Monsters?
There needs to be a concierge service for rich dude-bro boarder...dudes. One at the base of the mountains where they can stop by after shredding it all day and have their borrowed luxury cars cleaned and pressed. Great idea for a ski town business. There ya go.
Until then, I’ll be content getting flaming hot Cheetos out of my vegan leather interior.
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Apparently I need a new Zester. There’s nothing more fun than starting a baking recipe just to find yourself digging through every kitchen drawer for a tool. I repeated this act about a month ago when I was attempting to find my meat tenderizer. So, the growls were loud when my lemmon zester was missing in action.
I spend Sunday wanting to make my first batch of Christmas cookies with Italian Lemmon Cookies. I had purchased some beautiful Meyer Lemmons to add in the dough, but it was not to be. I did attempt to chop the skins super fine, hoping that would be the same. It’s not. I now have a batch of super delicious cookies with fine bits of lemmon peel to chew.
I feel like I need to inventory my kitchen just so I know that items I own. Maybe Santa will bring me my missing tools.
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
Two things are bugging me this week. The first is my ski rack on the top of my car. It whistles. At highway speeds a high pitch squeal begins to sound above my head. "Okay, I guess I need to buy an air screen to change to air dinamics." I casually thought. Then I discovered that my VW cross bars don’t work with my Thule racks and $90 new air screen. I have spent this week attempting to find a way to attach the two without using duct tape.
The second is porn. My porn. I have unique tastes in porn; which has been satisfied for free via Tumblr. The site; however, just announced that they will be deleting all graphic content. Meaning, all the tumblr pages that I follow will go away on the 17th of December. I have spent the week grabbing as many images as I can to supply me until I can locate a new source of smut. Hundreds of gay Japanese suit porn images have been flying across my desk top. If you’re aware of a good Japanese "young businessman in suits” porn site, please be in touch. Not; however, if you’re reading this and you also happen to be one of my sisters.
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
Today was the last day of class. I have to say this is the very first time I’m sad about this. Historically, I’m counting down the days until the semester ends. Dreading the last couple of weeks. But, this semester has been completely different. My classes have been amazingly interesting; Feminist/Queer Philosophy and a history class about Denver.
This is ironic as the history class was based upon the racist KKK dickheads that controlled Denver in the early days. Followed by a class based on liberating modern voices in queer literature. In fact this morning I received this...
It didn’t hurt that I’m 100 years old and actually lived the ‘80’s/‘90’s AIDS crisis. At one point I was explaining Act Up to 20 year old girls. Like I was on the front porch of a gay retirement home in a rocking chair. But, hey, I guess I got an "A".
The Denver history class is motivating me to start a new YouTube channel. Based loosely around the traditional history narrative about a western US city, but with a marginalized voice perspective. Like what happened to Denver’s China Town? Spoiler: Racists. It’s callled the "1880 Race Riot", but really it was a "white assholes with torches"
So, yeah. This semester was actually amazing and I’m sad to see it go.
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
Every season, in my head anyway, starts with the changing of the door wreath. I’m not sure how this seems to be hardwired into me. I do know that it was something I was raised with, a sort of family tradition. One in which my sisters and I still do religiously.
It is pretty odd, this tradition growing up in a household without a lot of traditions. Apart from the ones pressed upon us by the Mormon Church doctrine. None of us children have multiple spouses, stockpile food stores for the coming apocalypse, or the very worst of them all….use white bread. It is a testament to our development that we escaped the churches brainwashing of "all food must be highly processed."
I thought about this while I placed my holiday wreath upon my door. Then I stood back to survey my fantastic wreath. The wreath, as one would expect, then gets compared to the next door neighbors. The Nguyen’s. Oh, man…. I. Hate. Them. With their stinking wreath all made of home-decorated pine cones. Each pine cone individually wrapped with colorful ric-rac trimming. Where do they get off?! Last year, after I placed my silver-glitter dipped "winter-wonder land" wreath on our entry way door, they had the nerve to come back with battery operated garland festooned about their door. I guess money can’t buy taste.
This year I have decided to not descend to their level of one-upmanship. A classic evergreen wreath, deconstructed; if you will. Maybe a bit like Mormon Christ would of carried as he roamed the mid-west.
Saturday, November 24, 2018
I posted a picture online recently. It depicts the new snowboard rack I had installed on top of my Alltrack. I really didn’t think about it, mostly because the intent was to show off my roof-rack installing skills. Yet, I would never dream of strapping a laminated plank to my feet and slide down a frozen mountain. No thank you. Soon the comments and questions came in about my snowboarding prowess. I installed the rack so that the boyfriend could take my all wheel drive up the mountain. So, even though I am now one of those Colorado dudes driving around with a roof-rack, it's not really mine.
Wednesday, November 21, 2018
Ah.... the day before Thanksgiving. That time when I completely question my culinary skills.
Every year on this day I start the day sure I have the recipes I’ve spent hours choosing, and hours of shopping for their ingredients. Then soon I began to realize that my recipes aren’t saved on my iPad, and I remember that I’m missing most of my ingredients.
Tuesday, November 13, 2018
I am currently in a multi-stage interviewing process with four separate new positions outside of my current company. Have conservative suit; will travel. The quick answer is that I am desperate to work on a team that doesn’t end their sentences with prepositions. If I get asked "where you at?" one more time…. Truthfully I am happy in my current position, (sort-of) but I need to grow, and it’s apparent this cannot happen.
For one position within a multi-state eating disorder recovery corporation, I feel I have now interviewed with every member of staff. I mean, I haven’t met ALL the janitorial staff, maybe next week. For all these interviews I figured it would be okay if I wear the same suit every time, I just switch out the tie. It is me just stopping by their headquarters every once in a while to hang out. Another is a non-profit education company. Also multiple interviews. Glenda on the first floor reception says I’m the best candidate, but if she hears anything she’ll let me know… I’m going to start bring her doughnuts.
Their problem is understandable. You cannot interview a HR Manager. Every question they give me, I am just hardwired to give the best response for the sake of the printed interview questionnaire. My dream is that a CEO will just come out and say "Look, you’re the person that should be doing the interviewing of candidates, just come out and tell me what you’re gonna do for me!" And, I’d tell them the good about me and the bad about me. I’ll put myself in payroll and send my interview suit to the drycleaner. Because it’s beginning to stink.
Until then, I interview. Again. And again. I hope to have good news for you soon.
Sunday, November 11, 2018
It boggles my mind how different one person can be in eleven years. My drives, goals, and desires have really no similarities to the thirty-five year old who started blogging. I have had six cars, three longterm relationships, many casual boyfriends, three dogs, and one blog. One blog to unite them all.
Yes, I spend to much time writing papers about third wave Feminists and too little time blogging; I guess I should just post my term papers. But, I feel that will actually make my blog even less readable. And it is pretty damn un-read as it is.
Let's just cheer that I am having a eleven year anniversary as a blogger. Not many humans can actually say this. Mostly because blogging died about six years ago.
Saturday, October 6, 2018
When thinking about saying goodbye to my Wrangler, I had trouble walking away. It was like being in a relationship where you only see the thrills even though you know they're treating you wrong. Yes, the fuel pump had to be replaced multiple times; but it was sexy sitting in a trailhead's parking lot. Sure, the oil seemed to disappear every three weeks, but I could drive over any shopping center's curbing. Which is truly the best measure of the American males' ego. There comes a time; however, when even in the most dysfunctional of relationships you eventually wake up to the fact that you are putting more effort into it than you could possibly get back.
My main motivation in replacing my Jeep is how sexy-cool a new car would compare in its level of coolness in trailhead parking lots. This is why I chose the VW Alltrack. It just oozes off roady snobbiness. Yet snowflake uniqueness.
Saturday, September 29, 2018
I was overly excited to finally take a class on feminist philosophers. Meaning the study of philosophy via a feminist lens. Like the collective works of Hypatia of Alexandria and Ayn Rand. I didn’t really read the fine-print the (philosophy verses philosophers) part of the title. However, I am very delighted with the surprise. The readings of proto-utilitarianism ideals, mixed with gender equality getting their foundation in the 1700’s is quite cool to see unfold throughout time.
Also, this is the first class that I am actually connecting with and feel comfortable interacting. In the typical class I am the large bear squeezed into a desk/chair, A Chesk, if you will, usually twenty years older than the other students. While in this class I am still over twenty years older than my classmates, they actually have smart, and witty opinions to share. The tiny gay boy, eighteen years old, that sits next to me has his own YouTube channel dedicated to make-up and making one’s own gender neutral clothing. He literally says literally every-other word, but he’s engaging and asks incredible questions.
Another reason why this class is great is that it’s held in the Philosophy Department’s conference room. No chesks, just a long table with sixteen open, and interested individuals. The only hiccup is Clara. Clara is the self-appointed political correctness thought police. She attempts to remind us that trans individuals need to have open gender-role labels. When turning this to me, it was followed by me explaining that the dude I was referencing at the time had self-disclosed male pronouns, and his own trans experience did not need to be defended. Clara admittedly doesn’t know any trans individuals, but wants to make sure we get the pronouns right. Good for her.
All-in-all I am happy for this class. It makes me want to change my major, again, to gender studies. Then I’ll be able to say that I am thirty years older than my classmates as I will never actually graduate.
Thursday, September 27, 2018
Friday, September 21, 2018
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
After the big delete, I find that I am exploring for my news again. I am going down nerdy rabbit-holes of nerd stuffs. Back in 2008 I had pages and pages of blogs and obscure content I followed. Did you know that Tumbr is still around??? Wow. Stunned.
Mike the roommate, who will always keep it real with me, says it’s because I get a rush of self-satisfaction (holier-than-thou) by being able to say, ”I… I don’t DO Facebook.” And, he is right about that. It feeds that special snowflake hipster that lives in side of me. He is a bitch. The old man in me says it’s nice to not bother with all that family and friend drama. Both sides are excited about exploring the web and not having it tailored and edited for me.
Wednesday, May 16, 2018
Monday, May 7, 2018
Friday, May 4, 2018
Thursday, May 3, 2018
Saturday, April 21, 2018
Yet, as the warm glow softens the loss felt by the passing of such an impactful mothering presence; you begin to question this loyalty to memory. Was she not the lady that ripped her red AIDS ribbon from her blouse before joining her husband on the podium at the Republican National Convention? Agreeing, that yes “Barbara Bush was a generous and smart and amazing racist who, along with her husband, raised a war criminal.”*
As the people around me are speaking of the life and legacy of a woman who brought safety, warmth, and enrichment into their lives. I struggle to not think of the warmongering. I search my mind for any time that is not a war on terror. When my Christian name was not replaced with "that Dirty Democrat." When handing over the book, "Loving Someone Gay" it is tossed into the trash. How do you remember a dedicated racist? A person who used racism as an artist uses paint upon a canvas. The art of racism instilled so deeply in her children, it would take years of new coursework to learn tolerance and compassion?
I can almost accept that she was a throwback to an earlier and almost genteel era of America. But, it is also the time when the "N" word was used with joyous passion. I can accept the warm and nostalgic retelling of a life in which the person weaving the narrative had a much different experience to mine. They must have never experienced the warmongering. The removal of the red ribbon. Or, simply, they have and are better at understanding that when an individual dies, you only speak of the good things.
So, rest in peace. Your legacy is secure.
* Randa Jarrar
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
There are countless ways to choose a drag name. Some of the formulas include the name of the street you grew up on, mixed with your first pet’s name. I truly believe the proper way to attach a name to that fierce inner drag persona you have is to use google.
More preciously google your local animal shelter and pull up the “Adoptable Cats” page. I’m not sure who is in charge of naming the plethora homeless kitties, but they are witty little people. So, all you need to do is can down the kolumns of kitties. The left side is your first name. The right your last...
Who knows, maybe you could adopt a cat, that matches your sickening new stage name. Welcome to the stage!! Linda Midge!!!!!!!!
In Denver, Colorado you can start here...
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
The Professor of this class has stated he will stay away of the popular stories of 1600s and 1700s. Because If I have to hear one more lecture of the Restoration of the English Monarchy, I may puke. I kid, I kid. A bit. This class should be all French/Dutchiness.
The other class is Modern Philosophy. Which I thought was gonna be all Ayn Rand and debating Quasi-Realism to prove that I don't exist. But no Atlas Shrugging for me. Nope. Starting out we will be finding out that we think, therefore we...be. Sorry, René Descartes. It's fine, but your haircut bothers me. Seriously who wears bangs?? Outside of Zooey Deschanel.
Both of these classes are in the older buildings on campus which means the class rooms are small and they sport those desks attached to chairs. This makes me feel like a circus bear stuck on a bicycle. I cram my large frame into the tiny chair and attempt to blend in with the muggle-sized co-students. This is a small price to pay however, to learn of Swedish war victories.
Wednesday, January 10, 2018
This immediately made me want to make this sound as a new ring tone. Having my phone loudly ring "black-alert" with the computer background noise, was super-cool. This to replace my traditional, Star Trek "red-alert" ring tone.
I, being super proud of finding this ring tone online, then having to download conversion apps, wanted to show off my new ring tone to the boyfriend last night. Filled with pride, I launched my new BLACK-ALERT sound. Sure he was going to be proud of my nerdiness and also connect it to the new Star Trek Discovery show. "Baby, you want your phone to announce black alert?" He paused to let that sink in. It did not sink into my brain. "Baby. Your phone is going to scream, 'black' alert?!"
Oh God.... I didn't even....
I guess I wont have a Star Trek black alert ring tone.
Thursday, January 4, 2018
It is that time of year again. no, not Gymuary. Although that phenomenon is in full force. Is it just me, or is it every January that the "Circuit Bros" attempt to take over? They begin to lay dumbbells and water bottles on every bench they quite possibly use in all of 2018. You can walk into the free-weight section at your local gym, and feel that the rapture happened as there are nothing but a sea of towels, water bottles, and tiny dumb bells scattered around the area. God wants the fit. Apparently.
For me, this time of year happens twice a year. About two weeks before the next semester of school. I log into my school's bookstore website and see what books I need. Then I go to Amazon and see what I can buy cheaper online. 99.9% of the time, I get lazy, forget to order through Amazon and still end up at the University bookstore to buy my used/abused copies of needed books.
This Spring, I am taking Early Modern Europe History, and Modern Philosophy. The books for the history class are Fractured Europe, Luis XIV, The Thirty Years War, and ironically a book called Enlightenment. All of these are "required reading." I totally dig early European history, so I am super excited; because, that is the kind of nerd I am.
The Modern Philosophy class has no books listed yet. Other than the famous The Tao of Pooh which I read cover-to-cover at least twenty times in my 20s. Until I left it on the seat of my best-friend's Fiero when it was repossessed. (The car-- not the book). So..... Literally I am going to re-read Winnie the Pooh in University. I wonder if I should ask Burt to replace my copy of Pooh that was lost in his Pontiac Fiero?
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
Mike, my single and available roommate, and I share quite the great house. We think so, anyway. Great views, great kitchen. The only downside is that there is only a one-car garage. This, of course is not a point of contention as we have simply decided to swap out the garage on a monthly basis. On the first of the month, the other guy gets to start parking their vehicle in the tight garage. This morning was the first full day for my Jeep to be snug inside, whilst Mikes Sportage had to bare the freezing temps. At precisely 5:14AM I heard Mikes super-fancy toothbrush spring to life through our bathrooms’ common wall. I am not sure why his electric toothbrush is so frickin' loud, But maybe the more money you spend on a toothbrush the louder it is to instill a sense that it is doing a great job.
Since I knew that in seven minutes time, Mike would come bounding out of his bedroom, insert toast into his mouth and make for the door, I thought I would treat him. Grabbing his keys I made my way to my bedroom window. I saw Mike's car sitting out in the cold, shivering in its first night in the frost and snow. I pressed the Remote Start fob on his key chain.... excited about how happy my best friend will be when he is greeted to a warm car.
Well, his fob is different than mine... I kept pressing it over and over. The car just sat there; un-started.
I examined the key fob....."G-enie" was the logo upon it. "Funny, Genie makes garage door openers AND remote starts?" This is when I glanced over and noticed that the garage door was making yet another round of its fiftieth open and down sequence. Turns out Mike does not have a remote start on this car. I carefully returned his keys to the kitchen bar and continued my morning routine perplexed what happened to his remote start... thingy.
Turns out he has not installed a remote start on this car yet. Since he buys cars so often, serves him right to have a cold car.
Saturday, December 30, 2017
It took forever to get my grades from the Fall semester. To be honest, I did horridly on one of my my finial papers. I’m not just saying that, like a sixteen year old after theater tryouts. I really just plagiarized and patronized poor Karl Marx. This is a new level of classes. The whole semister was depended upon only three major papers. No “class participation” no “extra credit” just my questionable writing skills to make the grade. But still...
Thursday, December 28, 2017
I have been thinking about buying a new car. Although it seems I just bought my Jeep Wrangler, it’s been four years. It boggles my mind to type that four years have passed since my Jeep was brand new. I love my Jeep, but the itch for a new vehicle grows larger with each passing day. I mean, I would keep my knobby tired, super cool friend forever. But, change is also good. What is catching my eye, you ask? Well, something that is the furtherest thing from a Jeep; a VW Wagon. The Alltrack, actually. But, yes. It’s a station/estate wagon. About half the size of the Wrangler.
For some odd reason station/estate wagons appeal to me. The sport ones anyway. There’s this cool. I don’t care what you think vibe. Kind of like a Jeep. Just in a different direction. Other than the Douche Bro. aspect people attribute to a Jeep in traffic.
I guess I should go test-drive the Alltrack again and make sure I can live the next four years sitting so low in traffic. And whether I can give up that butch feeling that comes over me when I enter Chessmen Park in a 4X4.
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
I broke down and bought a new phone. No, not the IphoneX. There’s something unsettling about the face recognition thing. But, that is a delusional blog post for another day. I really had to buy a new iPhone because of the huge mistake I made upon buying my old phone. A 6S+ with a tiny amount of storage. Dumb I know. This meant not being able to have any apps on my phone, like the Blogger app. After a daily pop-up stating I couldn’t take a picture because my storage was low, I went to the Apple store. Now I’m all about the 8+. With the largest storage they offer.
The hardest part was the giving up on Michael Phelps.
See... back during the London 2012 Olympics, I saw American swimmer, Micheal Phelps for the first time. Every time he casually entered the swimming facility, he was sporting Sol Republic head phones. I ran out and bought a pair. I’ve been wearing them ever since. But..... the new phone doesn’t have a headphone jack for the cord; It’s all Bluetooth. Yes, there’s the adapter. But, it’s not the same. Also yes, during the Rio Olymics, Phelps wore wireless headphones. But, the impression was already made.
It’s time so say goodbye to my Sol Republic headphones. The era has passed. Goodbye old friends. I’ll sport wireless Bluetooth and think of the glory days.