Farewell Bitches!
This is it Bitches! I have been too busy to update this blog regularly and so now it is time to shut it down.
Like my previous blog, "I'm Just Glad to Be Here", Utempo became more of a chore than a diversion which was my original intention. It seemed that my life required more of my attention than my public writing.
I'm going to miss leaving stupid videos and articles for us to muse. My favorite regular feature, "What's Wrong with U.S.?" will definitely be missed. I'm going to miss telling you about American Idol and my other reality shows but I'm sure you will manage without my two cents.
There are many great LA stories missing. There are my nipple rings that came and went in 9 months. There is the bi-polar, meth-addicted former roommate. There are the many temp assignments, including the one I am on currently at a popular cable network (HBO). There are all the wonderful "adventures in casting" stories at Frank TV. There are my appearances as an actor on the same show (look for me Tuesdays in November on TBS).
There is my re-obsession with the musical Rent. The joys and travails of being lactose-intolerant. And reclaiming my 20-something body. For those of you who have known me for a while, I am referring to the healthy, lean and tone body of my late 20s vs. the delicate, Calista Flockhartish look of my early 20s.
This is fun. Don't you love hearing about the things I didn't write? Like the Men and C-list celebs (and/or A-list hairstylists) that have made up my silly love life. Life with no car in Commuter City. And, of course, there are the great friends that I have been privileged to meet and know. These are the people that make life in LA well-worth the lack of good pizza.
So, I leave it. I may start another blog but who knows. There is no future, there is no past. I live this moment as my last...no day but today.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Monday, March 31, 2008
Video - Breaking News Videos from CNN.com#/video/us/2008/03/31/ramos.ks.phelps.protest.wibw#/video/us/2008/03/31/ramos.ks.phelps.protest.wibw#/video/us/2008/03/31/ramos.ks.phelps.protest.wibw
God Hates Fag Bashers March. Several years ago, I suggested to some of my Second City colleagues that we march on Fred Phelps's church. I'm glad to see that someone organized and did it.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Kansas woman sat on toilet for two years - Los Angeles Times
I have anxieties. I have phobias. However, a
Kansas woman that sat on the toilet for two years definitely has me beat. This is one bizarre story. It isn't even her bathroom. It belongs to her boyfriend. The police are trying to figure out if they should charge the boyfriend with a crime. What? The boyfriend may deserve the enabler of the year award but is that a crime. Frankly, I'm a little jealous of her. I have thrown some world class crazy at some of my past boyfriends but I don't think any of them would have brought me meals in the loo for two years.
It is worth noting that the officer on the scene is named Whipple...Just an observation.
Kansas woman that sat on the toilet for two years definitely has me beat. This is one bizarre story. It isn't even her bathroom. It belongs to her boyfriend. The police are trying to figure out if they should charge the boyfriend with a crime. What? The boyfriend may deserve the enabler of the year award but is that a crime. Frankly, I'm a little jealous of her. I have thrown some world class crazy at some of my past boyfriends but I don't think any of them would have brought me meals in the loo for two years.
It is worth noting that the officer on the scene is named Whipple...Just an observation.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Girls love their gays!
It's hard to tell what is going to make you laugh and what isn't. This video by Chris "leave Britney alone" C makes me laugh. It is funny and I'm not sure why. It could be the wig. Or his religious fervor. Or for his plea for straight men to give him a fruit basket. It took me a second to warm into it but it really delivers and is less than two minutes long. Check it out and give the boy a fruit basket.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
#@$%!
I quit smoking. I quit acting (mostly), and I quit my ex-life partner Steve. Now I might quit cussing. This could be more difficult than nicotine. See, even when I was a Bible-toting scripture spouting church boy, I loved to use profanity/swear/cuss. Now that I have accepted my life as a the world's best backslider, I cuss even more. Even my current desktop wallpaper pic (pictured left) is a joke about profanity. I have a Master's Degree so I like to think that my vocabulary is large and expansive. It's not but I like to think that. Despite the plethora of words I could choose, a cuss word will do the trick nearly every time. Just this past weekend, my friend Greg reprimanded me for using the word "sh*t" at least a dozen times in a twenty minute conversation. My response to Greg was, "go f*ck yourself you whiny little sh*t. Now let's go to Fatburger, that sh*t is good."
The city of South Pasadena will issue a no-cussing week proclamation beginning tomorrow night. All of this profanity free living is thanks to a 14 year old kid that started the No Cussing Club. A club which I could never be a true member but I'm willing to curb the cuss for a week. A week, shit, how hard could that be?
I quit smoking. I quit acting (mostly), and I quit my ex-life partner Steve. Now I might quit cussing. This could be more difficult than nicotine. See, even when I was a Bible-toting scripture spouting church boy, I loved to use profanity/swear/cuss. Now that I have accepted my life as a the world's best backslider, I cuss even more. Even my current desktop wallpaper pic (pictured left) is a joke about profanity. I have a Master's Degree so I like to think that my vocabulary is large and expansive. It's not but I like to think that. Despite the plethora of words I could choose, a cuss word will do the trick nearly every time. Just this past weekend, my friend Greg reprimanded me for using the word "sh*t" at least a dozen times in a twenty minute conversation. My response to Greg was, "go f*ck yourself you whiny little sh*t. Now let's go to Fatburger, that sh*t is good."
The city of South Pasadena will issue a no-cussing week proclamation beginning tomorrow night. All of this profanity free living is thanks to a 14 year old kid that started the No Cussing Club. A club which I could never be a true member but I'm willing to curb the cuss for a week. A week, shit, how hard could that be?
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The Jeannie Tate Show - Hillary Clinton
I voted for Obama in the California Primary. Too bad I didn't see this video first. Hilarious.
Big Ups to my friends Liz Cackowski and Maggie Carey. Keep the Jeannie Tate Show rolling Ladies. They are so funny.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Hungry
This week was certainly a week of loss. I'm moving on, slightly bruised but determined. It seems that change for me can only happen in dramatic grand gestures like this past week. And I accept it for what it is.
I am pleased to say that my week ended with me gaining rather than losing.
Last night, I attended my first social function in a week. It was a screening of two films by my film Trent at the Silent Movie Theatre.
Trent and I met in Chicago when we both auditioned for Second City. We actually became friends onstage during an improv scene and ramain friends to this day.
Trent began taking film classes late last year. He has done a great job with the short film assignments he has received. He has approached each like he was preparing for Sundance rather than a class where I imagine he is the oldest and most experienced entertainment professional. I was fortunate enough to be asked to be in one of them. This is a one minute excerpt of the film I was in. It is titled Hungry.
Believe it or not, Hungry is a silent film comedy. Trent needed/wanted a moment of poignancy to balance the comedy. He asked me to play a down and out homeless character. How ironic to view this film after the week I just had. If you want to see the whole film plus another great film titled "The Smelly Janitor" (my personal favorite), then check out Trent's website: Trentertainment.com. I love his website title, because I made it up. Yes, some days, I am very clever.
Friday, February 22, 2008
It Never Rains in Southern California or Why Tony! Toni! Tone! can bite me.
It is still winter in Southern California and the rain keeps coming. This is an appropriate metaphor for my life. They say when it rains it pours. In my world, when it rains, it monsoons.
So that this post isn't an entire bitch and rant session let me lead with a few positives. I was fortunate enough last week to travel to Texas with some buddies on a corporate gig. Simply because of the travel times, smoking laws, and an oddly timed fire alarm going off at our hotel, I found myself not smoking for two full days. I realized that if I could go another day without smoking that my body would be over the nicotine withdrawal. I only had two cigarettes so I crushed them in my hands and went for it. I have now gone twelve smoke free days. I figure that not smoking will make my breath sweeter; my breathing easier; and will save me roughly $350.00 a year.
Now for the bitching. My first week of being smoke free was trying because I became a major crank. I was irritable all the time. My irritability was further complicated by my unexplained insomnia, a mass shooting at my grad school Alma mater, and my monthly full moon hornies.
It was in grad school that I first noticed that I get extremely horny about a 7-8 days before the full moon. It sort of takes over me. I just become base and excited all the time. I awake with enough wood to build an ark and I'm like one raging hormone.
MTG, the guy that I have been pining over for the last two months, didn't give me the time of day. Too bad 'cause as horny as I was, I would have rocked his world.
So, with the combination of not smoking, grief over the shooting, and the full moon hornies I was in quite the emotional state last week. It all culminated in me getting the flu. Oh yeah, this story just gets better and better. It started with a nasty cough and a sore throat. After I became severely congested, I noticed my lymph nodes felt like they were the size of golf balls. Then came the aches and pains followed by fever and headaches.
I am a man. And like most men, when I am ill I quickly revert to childhood. I become a little boy that just wants someone to take care of him. You don't have to do my laundry (although that would be great) but I would appreciate someone rubbing my head with a cool towel; feeding me liquids and chocolate ice cream (goat milk ice cream, since I am lactose intolerant); and reading me a story (it's okay if the story is from Entertainment Weekly).
When you are single, forget about it. There is no rubbing, feeding, or reading. It's just you, a box of Theraflu, and the ladies of The View.
Monday was a holiday and my flu symptoms were still fairly mild. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even sure I was sick. I was just very emotional. I couldn't stop crying. I even called my Mom to cry (I told you men become little boys when they are ill). Monday night was when the flu hit me full on. I went to bed at 9 pm feeling shitty.
Tuesday morning around 4 or 5 am, I felt soooooo awful. I couldn't decide if I should phone in sick or go to work. I was unemployed for three months and I was terrified about not making money. I already missed a day because of the holiday. I ended up phoning in sick because I honestly couldn't get out of bed. It was awful. My long term temp assignment for the life coach/motivational speaker/phony asshole was now in it's sixth week. He would understand if I took one day off to get better.
Wednesday morning, my fever broke (temporarily) around 5 or 6 am. I decided to spend one more day at home. Life coach/motivational speaker/phony asshole wouldn't like it but it was better than coming back too soon and making others ill. Right? Wrong. Life coach/motivational speaker/phony asshole decided that my services were no longer needed. This bastion of virtue fired me while I was in my weakest state. Nice guy, huh? To make up for it, my temp agency found me a one day assignment next week. One day?!? That won't pay the rent. I peeled myself off the couch and went back to my room for a nap. I was exhausted and annoyed.
When I awoke from my nap I was surprised to find myself LOCKED IN MY ROOM. My doorknob would not turn. My roommate was not home. I was trapped in my room. I was living in a Dali dream. I wanted to wake up. I wanted to wake up and not be ill. I wanted to wake up and have my job back. I wanted MTG, the man I have been dreaming about for the last two months, to be by my side smiling at me with a tray of bacon and french toast. I wasn't dreaming. I really was unemployed, lonely, ill, and trapped in my own bedroom.
I grabbed a screwdriver and was able to escape from my prison (A prison with 800 thread count sheets - just trying to find another positive). I napped the rest of the day on the couch.
The last two days I spent recovering my voice; nursing my still tender glands; ferociously job hunting; and begging relatives for rent money. Big ups to Patchy Scarback. Without asking, he paid my cell phone bill after he found out that I lost my job.
I know this sounds like an awful lot of stuff to happen in one week but it did. I don't feel destroyed by it either. I feel emboldened. Last year taught me that I am much stronger than I think. And for some strange reason, I still Love LA.
It is still winter in Southern California and the rain keeps coming. This is an appropriate metaphor for my life. They say when it rains it pours. In my world, when it rains, it monsoons.
So that this post isn't an entire bitch and rant session let me lead with a few positives. I was fortunate enough last week to travel to Texas with some buddies on a corporate gig. Simply because of the travel times, smoking laws, and an oddly timed fire alarm going off at our hotel, I found myself not smoking for two full days. I realized that if I could go another day without smoking that my body would be over the nicotine withdrawal. I only had two cigarettes so I crushed them in my hands and went for it. I have now gone twelve smoke free days. I figure that not smoking will make my breath sweeter; my breathing easier; and will save me roughly $350.00 a year.
Now for the bitching. My first week of being smoke free was trying because I became a major crank. I was irritable all the time. My irritability was further complicated by my unexplained insomnia, a mass shooting at my grad school Alma mater, and my monthly full moon hornies.
It was in grad school that I first noticed that I get extremely horny about a 7-8 days before the full moon. It sort of takes over me. I just become base and excited all the time. I awake with enough wood to build an ark and I'm like one raging hormone.
MTG, the guy that I have been pining over for the last two months, didn't give me the time of day. Too bad 'cause as horny as I was, I would have rocked his world.
So, with the combination of not smoking, grief over the shooting, and the full moon hornies I was in quite the emotional state last week. It all culminated in me getting the flu. Oh yeah, this story just gets better and better. It started with a nasty cough and a sore throat. After I became severely congested, I noticed my lymph nodes felt like they were the size of golf balls. Then came the aches and pains followed by fever and headaches.
I am a man. And like most men, when I am ill I quickly revert to childhood. I become a little boy that just wants someone to take care of him. You don't have to do my laundry (although that would be great) but I would appreciate someone rubbing my head with a cool towel; feeding me liquids and chocolate ice cream (goat milk ice cream, since I am lactose intolerant); and reading me a story (it's okay if the story is from Entertainment Weekly).
When you are single, forget about it. There is no rubbing, feeding, or reading. It's just you, a box of Theraflu, and the ladies of The View.
Monday was a holiday and my flu symptoms were still fairly mild. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even sure I was sick. I was just very emotional. I couldn't stop crying. I even called my Mom to cry (I told you men become little boys when they are ill). Monday night was when the flu hit me full on. I went to bed at 9 pm feeling shitty.
Tuesday morning around 4 or 5 am, I felt soooooo awful. I couldn't decide if I should phone in sick or go to work. I was unemployed for three months and I was terrified about not making money. I already missed a day because of the holiday. I ended up phoning in sick because I honestly couldn't get out of bed. It was awful. My long term temp assignment for the life coach/motivational speaker/phony asshole was now in it's sixth week. He would understand if I took one day off to get better.
Wednesday morning, my fever broke (temporarily) around 5 or 6 am. I decided to spend one more day at home. Life coach/motivational speaker/phony asshole wouldn't like it but it was better than coming back too soon and making others ill. Right? Wrong. Life coach/motivational speaker/phony asshole decided that my services were no longer needed. This bastion of virtue fired me while I was in my weakest state. Nice guy, huh? To make up for it, my temp agency found me a one day assignment next week. One day?!? That won't pay the rent. I peeled myself off the couch and went back to my room for a nap. I was exhausted and annoyed.
When I awoke from my nap I was surprised to find myself LOCKED IN MY ROOM. My doorknob would not turn. My roommate was not home. I was trapped in my room. I was living in a Dali dream. I wanted to wake up. I wanted to wake up and not be ill. I wanted to wake up and have my job back. I wanted MTG, the man I have been dreaming about for the last two months, to be by my side smiling at me with a tray of bacon and french toast. I wasn't dreaming. I really was unemployed, lonely, ill, and trapped in my own bedroom.
I grabbed a screwdriver and was able to escape from my prison (A prison with 800 thread count sheets - just trying to find another positive). I napped the rest of the day on the couch.
The last two days I spent recovering my voice; nursing my still tender glands; ferociously job hunting; and begging relatives for rent money. Big ups to Patchy Scarback. Without asking, he paid my cell phone bill after he found out that I lost my job.
I know this sounds like an awful lot of stuff to happen in one week but it did. I don't feel destroyed by it either. I feel emboldened. Last year taught me that I am much stronger than I think. And for some strange reason, I still Love LA.
From the Craigslist Treasure Chest
I love Craigslist. It is where I found my current apartment. It is how I found more than one job opportunity. And the personal ads amuse me to no end. Here are two real ads found in the Los Angeles Craigslist M4M missed connections section over the last week.
I think i misplaced my wedding ring - m4m - 40
Date: 2008-02-21, 2:24PM PST
I am pretty sure it slipped off when I was fingering you the other day. If you hear a ding ding ding next time you take a crap, please reach in and get it. I need to get it back before the wife notices it missing. BTW, what a nice ass you have. Let's do it again sometime, but this time I can wear my big old class ring. You might enjoy that one even more.
HOT GUY IN LINE - m4m - 35
Date: 2008-02-16, 1:14PM PST
TALL MUSCLED BLACK GUY STANDING IN LINE AT THE POLICE STATION GETTING ARRESTED,YOU LOOKED OVER AT ME WHEN THEY PULLED OUT MY FOODSTAMPS OUT OF MY TIMBERLANDS,,I WILL BE OUT IN 6 MONTHS WILL YOU WAIT FOR ME?
I love Craigslist. It is where I found my current apartment. It is how I found more than one job opportunity. And the personal ads amuse me to no end. Here are two real ads found in the Los Angeles Craigslist M4M missed connections section over the last week.
I think i misplaced my wedding ring - m4m - 40
Date: 2008-02-21, 2:24PM PST
I am pretty sure it slipped off when I was fingering you the other day. If you hear a ding ding ding next time you take a crap, please reach in and get it. I need to get it back before the wife notices it missing. BTW, what a nice ass you have. Let's do it again sometime, but this time I can wear my big old class ring. You might enjoy that one even more.
HOT GUY IN LINE - m4m - 35
Date: 2008-02-16, 1:14PM PST
TALL MUSCLED BLACK GUY STANDING IN LINE AT THE POLICE STATION GETTING ARRESTED,YOU LOOKED OVER AT ME WHEN THEY PULLED OUT MY FOODSTAMPS OUT OF MY TIMBERLANDS,,I WILL BE OUT IN 6 MONTHS WILL YOU WAIT FOR ME?
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
I love this photo. It was taken by one of my newest friends, Alan Mercer. Alan is a great photographer. If you don't believe me, just look how great he made me look in this photo next to the great sex bomb Mamie Van Doren. This phot was taken at a party at Leisureland in Palm Springs, CA. The event was the launch of Mamie's wine. I blogged about back in December. If you want to know more than stop being lazy in look in my archives.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
LA - Still Loving It
Four weeks and one day into the new year and things seem to be ok. I have been working for the last three weeks for a life coach/media consultant/motivational speaker/guru. SK is a charismatic and dynamic man (and if you check out the website, you will notice that he has very animated arms. I spend most of my days making "soft sales" calls. I hate it. The only person that has permission to call me on the phone and ask me to buy anything is my drug dealer. And even he wouldn't dare. BTW, I haven't called him in weeks and wonder if he is worried about me. So, it is difficult for me to call people, even though that are already interested and try to see if I can schedule an appointment for SK and his coaching team's service. I am, however, a professional and I do it. I call. I smile. I work. I collect my pay. I'm still holding out for an admin job in the entertainment industry. Yes, I want to be a writer still but I need to pay my bills.
Fame
My roommate threw a DVD movie party this past Saturday. He invited over forty people to our small place and about thirty RSVP'd that they would come. I had already seen the flicks he was showing plus I get a little claustrophobic so I phoned my friend Muffy to see what she was up to that night. She invited me to an art opening in Burbank. We braved the rain (which I thought would never end) and made our way to this beautiful gallery.
The artist, a well trained painter, is probably best known for roles in two of my favorite 80's comedies, I'm Gonna Get You Sucka (as John Slade) and Revenge of the Nerds (as the great UN Jefferson).
The art was well done and I liked a few pieces but didn't have the $7000 to buy a piece. Still, I enjoyed the experience and the great jazz guitarist that played the event. I spent a great deal of time listening to the guitarist as he played a Brazilian piece that I am very fond of hearing. I wasn't attracted to the guitarist but his music was mesmerizing. I was entranced as I watched his fingers strum and caress the neck of the guitar like...OMG, I'm getting hot remembering. I met a fellow music lover, currently the tour manager for the Universoul Circus, and we discussed the mastery of the guitarist. When the tour manager, who talked while food dropped from his mouth, left the area I decided to find Muffy. As I made my way towards the front of the gallery, a stunning blond woman brushed me and said excuse me. How surprised was I to find that this woman was none other than Sharon Stone.
While the musician played I had blocked out the rest of party. Many people had arrived while I was lost in the rhythm. People that included Angela Bassett, Courtney B. Vance, Tavis Smiley, Blair Underwood, Vanessa Bell Calloway, and many more. It was like some strange dream. This was the party that I thought everyone in LA went to all the time, no paparazzi, no red carpet, just red wine and A-listers.
I pulled myself from my bubble and begin circulating the room. I wasn't star-fucking or gazing. I was genuinely intrigued by this strange fishbowl I found myself circling. Every now and then, a random celebrity would stop me and comment on my hilarious T-shirt (a brown cotton tee with a watermelon wedge and the words "White People Love It).
When the festivities ended, Muffy, her posse, and myself headed to a friends house where we continued drinking wine and dancing until 3 am. Well, they partied on and I left at 3 am. It was a good night. A Hollywood kind of night.
Four weeks and one day into the new year and things seem to be ok. I have been working for the last three weeks for a life coach/media consultant/motivational speaker/guru. SK is a charismatic and dynamic man (and if you check out the website, you will notice that he has very animated arms. I spend most of my days making "soft sales" calls. I hate it. The only person that has permission to call me on the phone and ask me to buy anything is my drug dealer. And even he wouldn't dare. BTW, I haven't called him in weeks and wonder if he is worried about me. So, it is difficult for me to call people, even though that are already interested and try to see if I can schedule an appointment for SK and his coaching team's service. I am, however, a professional and I do it. I call. I smile. I work. I collect my pay. I'm still holding out for an admin job in the entertainment industry. Yes, I want to be a writer still but I need to pay my bills.
Fame
My roommate threw a DVD movie party this past Saturday. He invited over forty people to our small place and about thirty RSVP'd that they would come. I had already seen the flicks he was showing plus I get a little claustrophobic so I phoned my friend Muffy to see what she was up to that night. She invited me to an art opening in Burbank. We braved the rain (which I thought would never end) and made our way to this beautiful gallery.
The artist, a well trained painter, is probably best known for roles in two of my favorite 80's comedies, I'm Gonna Get You Sucka (as John Slade) and Revenge of the Nerds (as the great UN Jefferson).
The art was well done and I liked a few pieces but didn't have the $7000 to buy a piece. Still, I enjoyed the experience and the great jazz guitarist that played the event. I spent a great deal of time listening to the guitarist as he played a Brazilian piece that I am very fond of hearing. I wasn't attracted to the guitarist but his music was mesmerizing. I was entranced as I watched his fingers strum and caress the neck of the guitar like...OMG, I'm getting hot remembering. I met a fellow music lover, currently the tour manager for the Universoul Circus, and we discussed the mastery of the guitarist. When the tour manager, who talked while food dropped from his mouth, left the area I decided to find Muffy. As I made my way towards the front of the gallery, a stunning blond woman brushed me and said excuse me. How surprised was I to find that this woman was none other than Sharon Stone.
While the musician played I had blocked out the rest of party. Many people had arrived while I was lost in the rhythm. People that included Angela Bassett, Courtney B. Vance, Tavis Smiley, Blair Underwood, Vanessa Bell Calloway, and many more. It was like some strange dream. This was the party that I thought everyone in LA went to all the time, no paparazzi, no red carpet, just red wine and A-listers.
I pulled myself from my bubble and begin circulating the room. I wasn't star-fucking or gazing. I was genuinely intrigued by this strange fishbowl I found myself circling. Every now and then, a random celebrity would stop me and comment on my hilarious T-shirt (a brown cotton tee with a watermelon wedge and the words "White People Love It).
When the festivities ended, Muffy, her posse, and myself headed to a friends house where we continued drinking wine and dancing until 3 am. Well, they partied on and I left at 3 am. It was a good night. A Hollywood kind of night.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
2008:So Far So Good
I haven't blogged this year (until now) but I have been working a mile a minute on my screenplay. Some cosmic shift has made me super productive and creative these days. I am not complaining. I'm just going to ride it out. New Year's Eve came and went. I had a good one. I didn't get drunk. I danced most of the night. I loved it. I danced with two young girls that were at the party. Children make the best dance partners. They just know how to be free. They don't care about looking good. They just want to move. I love that because I feel the same way when I am dancing. I went through a funk near the end of October culminating in a full blown breakdown early November just before my birthday. I am so grateful to be entering 2008 dancing.
I didn't make any resolutions. I never do. I do have some goals for this year. I want to be a better at managing my life. I want to make time for work, friends, self-edification, and love. I want to dance and sing more but this time for myself and not for my supper. I want to finish my screenplay so that when the strike is over, I can join the ranks of my other brothers and sisters in the WGA. I want to be a better friend, brother, roommate, son, etc. Basically, I want my relationship skills to grow in the new year. Did I mention dancing? Of course I did.
This playlist, inspired by my friend Paul in Chicago, was created in 2007 but it still makes me smile in 2008. Paul's birthday is October 11 (National Coming Out Day). In his honor I created the following playlist that I call Defying Faggotry. The version below is the Gold version which was partially inspired by my good Brooklyn friend Patchy.
I haven't blogged this year (until now) but I have been working a mile a minute on my screenplay. Some cosmic shift has made me super productive and creative these days. I am not complaining. I'm just going to ride it out. New Year's Eve came and went. I had a good one. I didn't get drunk. I danced most of the night. I loved it. I danced with two young girls that were at the party. Children make the best dance partners. They just know how to be free. They don't care about looking good. They just want to move. I love that because I feel the same way when I am dancing. I went through a funk near the end of October culminating in a full blown breakdown early November just before my birthday. I am so grateful to be entering 2008 dancing.
I didn't make any resolutions. I never do. I do have some goals for this year. I want to be a better at managing my life. I want to make time for work, friends, self-edification, and love. I want to dance and sing more but this time for myself and not for my supper. I want to finish my screenplay so that when the strike is over, I can join the ranks of my other brothers and sisters in the WGA. I want to be a better friend, brother, roommate, son, etc. Basically, I want my relationship skills to grow in the new year. Did I mention dancing? Of course I did.
This playlist, inspired by my friend Paul in Chicago, was created in 2007 but it still makes me smile in 2008. Paul's birthday is October 11 (National Coming Out Day). In his honor I created the following playlist that I call Defying Faggotry. The version below is the Gold version which was partially inspired by my good Brooklyn friend Patchy.
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