2 years

he's alright. i think i'll hang on to him for a little longer. or maybe forever.

dallas

work this week has been really stressful.

unsavory

ladies, pull your pants up when you're sitting at a bar...especially if you have a severe case of dumpass like this chick.

note to self:

do not jerk off with the free orange ginger body lotion at the marriott.

what's up, babs?

the other day on "the view" barbara ripped ann coulter a new one. she even called her a heartless bitch. don't fuck with barbara walters. you cannot FUCK with BARBARA WALTERS!

i want the world

I want the whole world
I want to lock it all up in my pocket
It's my bar of chocolate
Give it to me
Now!

I want today
I want tomorrow
I want to wear 'em like braids in my hair
And I don't want to share 'em

I want a party with room fulls of laughter
Ten thousand tons of ice cream
And if I don't get the things I am after
I'm going to scream!


I want the works
I want the whole works
Presents and prizes
and sweets
and surprises
Of all shapes and sizes
And now
Don't care how
I want it now
Don't care how
I want it now

all the pot in the world

couldn't make me want to eat this. if i see the add for this fucking bowl-of-white-trash-pig-slop one more time, i'm going to fucking wretch.

perfect

i'm in dallas where it's 1,000 degrees, i've got a cold, my hotel room is next to the ice machine which makes sounds akin to a helicopter landing on my forehead every 10 minutes and my rental car just started wildly smoking for no apparent reason. tomorrow is my birthday, my 25th birthday, which means i'm officially old. at least i don't have cancer yet.

**UPDATE** the customer service rep at the car rental agency was like, "can you drive it back to the airport?" and i was like, "um, no, i don't think it's a good idea to drive a smoking car down the freeway". he's like, "well, we'll cover the towing but if we can't find anything wrong with it, you'll have to pay for it". then the bitter queen came out, "well, i'm pretty sure the clouds of smoke and the drivers next to me honking and pointing at the impending explosion will vouch that there's something wrong with the car, so why don't you get on the horn and call a tow truck". *two snaps up*

brokeback makes me want to dance!

i went out pretty hard with my friends amy & travis last saturday night when essie was out of town (when the cat's away...). we ended up at the eagle a.k.a. "the dirty bird". surprisingly, they always play pretty good music there even though most of the men are hideous.

i don't know how many tequila shots into the night i was but i faintly recognized the song the dj was playing. "is this the theme to brokeback mountain?...remixed?" "uh...yeah", says travis. i couldn't freaking believe it. leave it to our vapid, roid-raged, circuit party queens to remix the fucking brokeback mountain themesong. way to convert a blood-stained cowboy shirt into a fucking pink bikini.

highway renegayd

i think the city of dallas has about 30,000 tolls. also, i think i drove through every one of them today. since i've been working all over the southwest, i've probably passed through dozens of tolls without paying. it's not that i just don't want to pay, it's just sometimes i'm not expecting them, i'm on the phone with a client, i'm rocking out to ani difranco, i don't have any change, or i simply don't feel like paying. if there's no change machine or tollbooth attendant, i'm obviously going to drive right through. so far i've done this in oklahoma city, tulsa, houston, dallas, and denver. surprisingly, i haven't gotten a ticket. i have 2 theories on the issue:

1. the municipalities of these states don't really care if you don't pay their tolls--it's strictly based on the honor system.

2. i'm in a new car, with new plates, from a rental agency every week. in boston, the first time you blow through the tolls, they send you a slap-on-the-wrist warning. if it happens again, you're toast. since it probably costs the toll company more money to research my plates, contact the rental car agency, and then forward the bill on to boston, i think they just let me slide.

another possibility is that one day i'm going to get slapped with an $80,000 fine for years of flipping off the tollbooth cameras. at this point, i'm willing to take that risk. fuck the tolls, i'm living on the edge.

le petit loser

remember what it was like to be the biggest freak in school? in my case, i was 10 feet taller than everyone else and gayer than mario cantone on the rag. tonight, i think i had what they call in french: le post-traumatic episode.

i guess i haven't been out at a club by myself for a few years now and being on the road from monday to whateverday has changed all of that. i've got many nights to myself, so i generally try to get out and see the sights. currently, i'm at a conference in quebec city, which is beautiful and pretty gay. after my obligations with the 50 year-old borings, i ventured out to the bars. i saw a great drag show and sort of made friends with some french canadians. ...or so i thought.

we were all on the dance floor and all of a sudden i felt like they were making fun of me. i felt like they thought i was chasing them, begging them to be my friends. i'm pretty sure, in reality, i didn't come off that way. i couldn't have. i'm so cool in boston. i can hold my own in LA or NY or even Barcelona, for that matter. it was probably all in my head. maybe it's the self-consciousness of not completely knowing the language and being in a new town, but have you ever just felt like you were the big, fat, fucking zit-faced 16 year old girl in a room full of well-groomed, french speaking hotties? ...i felt it tonight. ...like they thought i was totally lame. i wanted to just go off on my own but at the same time didn't want to let them know i was afraid of them thinking that i was afraid of them. does that make sense? madonna blaring in the background, i'm pretty sure they were all saying, "loook at ze silly ah-mahr-eeeh-KAHN". *takes drag of cigarette*

fuck you canada.

when did i start caring about fitting in? i'm usually the motherfucking bomb of the party. tonight karma totally knocked me town like 50 pegs. i didn't fit in with the 50 year-old stock brokers, i didn't fit in with the 21 year-old gays, i felt alienated and rightly so.

so now i'm cleaning out my minibar and living it up in my amazing suite in which people can only make fun of me in english and to my face.

at the risk of sounding cheesey and drunk-blogging: here's a toast to all the fags who don't fit in with other fags. to fags who also don't fit in with their paycheck signing breeders whose asses they're supposed to kiss. to fags who make their own party wherever they go. to fags who idenitfy with a sigularity, who don't succumb to a bitchy elite. to fags who follow a path lead by their *generally* non-judgemental, english-speaking hearts.



...i also just realized that i stepped in dog shit on my way home.

tranniccino

i was just served an iced coffee by a black transsexual. important note: i'm in downtown little rock, arkansas this week. what a breath of fresh air. i wanted to high five her or give her "two snaps up" but i was with a client and thought it would be inappropriate.

jesus help me

i just spent an hour and a half between appointments, sitting in a parking lot deciding whether or not to cut my hair. i want to grow it out and wear it shaggy but it's probably not going to look very professional and will give away my age. i still haven't decided.

i think i have better hair days in texas

i think it's the humidity, colorado is so dry...not that i'm complaining, denver is waaaay better than the lonestar state. i saw real, live lesbians today on the street. i can't remember the last time i've seen a real lesbian during my monday-thursday excursions to the southwest. i walked around boulder tonight just for the funk of it and the boys here are rediculous. i could sit on a street corner and cat call them for days.

i've been watching too much oprah since i got this job. my last daytime appointment usually gets out around 3:30, so i make it back to the hotel with just enough time to see her recommendations on which new khakis minimize her ginormous ass. today she had terry hatcher on. i realize she just came out as a childhood abuse victim, but that bitch is so TIRED. i could stand watching her all teary eyed for an hour. vomit.

the reason i started making t-shirts with steph

my new installation on newbury street, boston

i call it "barbies in dirt". curator: maya, age 5. location: outside of starbucks.

pride on the freeway ramp

i wish this came out better but i was trying to drive. the interior of the sign is one of those cheesy air-brushed pictures of dolphins jumping out of the ocean. is there a high density of dolphins in houston?

no nuggets in dallas

now nimble fingers that dance on numbers
will eat your children and steal your thunder,
while heavy torsos that heave and hurl
who crunch like nuts in the mouths of squirrels.

shut the fuck up. -cake

just got dissed for the first time in a rep's office. i was supposed to have 3 individual meetings. the first guy showed. the second meeting with this chick, didn't happen because she forgot i was coming in and didn't have time. the third dude has his admin call me and tell me today was no good. i confirmed all of these appointments over 2 weeks ago. fuck em.

lonestar

i'm driving around texas all week in a rented SUV against my will. i think i've completely sold out.

the big plan...

...is just to keep spinning, cuz the big bang is only just beginning and sometimes it's all we can do just to hang on. -ani

i've been sort of "out-of-blogging-commission" for the past couple of weeks mostly due to the fact that i've been interviewing in a series of hard and harder-core interviews for an external sales position which i finally landed about 2 weeks ago. i've been pitching and scheduling and making travel arrangements like a mad man. now that i'm actually in the field, i should have more time to make comments on my ever-changing surroundings.

this week i'm in oklahoma. have you ever been? let me sum it up for you: wal-mart. church. school. wal-mart. church. school. in that order. on every block. people here love their wal-marts and they love their jesus. if it weren't for the fact that they are so fucking friendly, i'd say it's almost downright satanic. i've come to realize that people only understand that which exists in their realm of exposure. i have nothing against the citizens of oklahoma, but i do pity the younger generation who seems to be sheltered and heavily influenced by their church leaders. the congregation is their realm of influence which makes me *slightly* more sympathetic to their perceived homophobia and fundamentalism...not that i would ever find homophobia and bigotry acceptable, but it's easy for us bi-coastal, "educated" liberals to cast the first stone.

i reconnected with my great aunt, mrs. frida hicks, last night. sister of my grandmother. descendant of the biggerstaffs. archivist, wife, mother, grandmother, storyteller. she lives about 15 miles from my hotel here in oklahoma city. it's been a good 8 years since i last saw her. we had a casual dinner at a restaurant owned by one of her fellow congregation members and then went back to her house to chat. small talk came easy. although she tried to avoid bringing up the subject of her ailing husband, i could tell that she's been distraught over his bout with alzheimers. he's hardly recognizable to her anymore after 40 some-odd years of marriage. searching for consoling words without tagging on the "i'm so sorry" cliches, i commented on what a good wife she's been to him. although she denies her good-nature, she admits, "well, i made a promise". that'll slug you square in the chest.

aunt frida spent a good portion of the past decade researching our lineage. she has traced our direct line all the way back to 17th century europe, markedly, the 30 year war in germany. she has our family's records from the census of 1790, birth records cris-crossing the continent, and land-ownership documents spanning two and a half centuries. we spent the good portion of last night discussing our ancestors.

i asked frida why she had such an interest in our family tree, she said that she was intrigued by all of the characters that emerge when you study old records and letters; you start to see a story materialize and therein lies the formation of history. frida told me that since her life had always been so average, she found that the quirky and sometimes unusual lives of our foremothers and forefathers filled a void in her identity. all things being equal, i find frida to be fascinating and insightful--far from average. she can remember a relative's name or birthday as though it had been written on her grocery list the day before. she catalogues each person. she could converse about cousin jim two towns away or sergeant hicks who served in the civil war. frida will talk about each person as though they had been at her home for a cookout last sunday. she's traveled the country in search our distant past and uncovered plethoras of intricate relationships and connections that most americans neglect in regards to their family heritage. so many of us identify as "half german/half irish", "half english/half french" when in fact your history happened here, right under your feet. i couldn't help but be proud of frida's research, her archives in the city library, and the part she's played in telling the story of our family's piece of american history. my only regret is that i can't stay here longer to help her cope with the slow decay of her husband's mental capacity. in this town of "wal-mart. church. school." frida was a breath of fresh air and a reminder to me that the wisdom and knowledge of the elderly is not to be forsaken and to know your roots is to know yourself.

p.s. i share the name of my great-great grandfather, creston e. biggerstaff, as noted in the second photo.