Forcing myself to post something halfway interesting!


The two little beasts, taking a break from playing. I love Babysitting Patches. Lily has so much fun when he comes over!

I know, I know...I am horrible about posting pictures. These are obviously a couple weeks old and long overdue.


It just requires...effort. I just wish I didn't have to do the whole transfer thing and then do the selection.

Here's Daddy and you know who!

Lily is always ready for a closeup...what a sweetie.


Oh a double chin...who gives a shit. I am eating healthy and still am heavy, maybe it is HIV meds maybe I am doing something wrong, but dammit I am happy in my life and seriously that is all that matters!

I'm surprised with my attention span that I am able to sit down long enough and write a postcard.


First off, I can say that I am an utter and complete failure in my dream of being the next couture perfumery. That I am sure will bring sighs of relief to the trained noses that chose classics like Shalimar and Joy, and the other sigh will be from the alcoholics for the wasted grain vodka I used as the base: Vox. But at least is was about 5 mini's to use as the base. Not an entire normal size. What use would the normal size be for me? I don't intend on drinking it, this is just an experiment in possible collaboration where the elements just might have met.

I tried and tried to come up with something that smelled good, wholesome and oh SO summer for Liz, and I completely just cannot do it. I think, rather than following the advice I have found on the internet and using some parts of perfume kits and stick to following the kit itself. Le sigh. Oh I will try again! I'm going to try it differently, I have to get it right. I'm not out of essential oils, I'm good in that department.

I'm feeling like I have a deadline. I want my friend Liz to have her sparkle pillow and scent in time for Burning Man. if it just can't be done...we might have to call in reinforcements!

Ok, so here we go. I know it is a rare day around here that I post photos of my excursions. I got my camera 11 months ago and I haven't had to charge it on it's fist battery once.

I am posting a drop from the last 2 weeks, so here goes.

Lily obviously enjoys her visits out of the city, and considers herself a country girl at heart...s0mething I was appalled by that occured 20 minutes after we arrived (no picture, because I hadn't unpacked the camera or used it on the train. The trip down south was a stormy and rainy ride so I was unable to get any worthwhile photos on the train through the (had it been beautiful outside and sunny) countryside from my window whilst riding the rails. Here she sits with Bailey, Jenn and Justin's bachelor 9 year old man, my fave grumpy sweet guy who I have known since he was Lily's age. Those two played for hours! She made sure she charmed the pants off of everyone (which is her job no matter where she is, she never seems to take a day off, bless her!) and made herself right at home as you can see.

This is only one wall of the sewing room in the house. Keep in mind, this house is a country barn turned into a cabin home with a woodstove, and my girl Jenn has shit EVERYWHERE but somehow...it works. There is a creepy method to her chaos. Here also is the massive amounts of Fisher Price toys that she not only collects, but sells on E-Bay so she can turn around and buy Bazar de Christian Lacroix dresses...I'm serious, she is a country bumpkin with some nice designer frocks in her closet!

Yet another work station for Jenn. Can we say packrat? Yet again, she reminds us why Martha sells at K-Mart, there are cool and gorgeous (not to mention some spendy finds) and baubles galore ALL over the house!

This is my best friend from high school (though I have known her since I was 12) Jolie. We made pesto carbanara our first night at the chateau, it was raining after all...time for fatty comfort food!

Jenn's mother is quite handy with her tool belt and a saw, she even can build gazeobos (like this one she did for Jenn and Justin's wedding in summer of 2002) and look damn good in a denim miniskirt in her 50's while doing it. I always tell her she's got "a nice set of gams!"

This is baby Abby (whom we call "the Gilly) with her Phish loving father Justin and the man I have also been calling Husband since he and Jenn got married. Notice the tye dye?

Here's that little shit Smithers...didn't remember last summer when he couldn't live without me. He wouldn't let me near him, or my younger baby stole his mini thunder....but some things never change...

Still proving his manhood on poor defenseless Sammy, who is now so palsied and old that the look on his face when this happens, is just a look of utter defeat. 9 years of this abuse!




Lily obviously made herself VERY at home, with the 15 year old kitties on their bed, and pretty much any lap that was available...she even got to hang out on a special piece of furniture that is off limits to animals! What can I say, she is a charmer! She also had a hard time coming down the hand cut steps from the upstairs loft area and bedrooms. Abby also got visits from both her Grandma's, Justins mom and Jenn's mom (the one with the long one can build anything in a miniskirt and from what I hear is an excellent shot with her rifle for target practice and raises 2 horses)

Jenn had her hands full with Abby...we is such an adorable little tyke....
...and you know who.

Then off to the city again, but I hear rumour that I will be back down there for a week taking care of Smithers and Sammy again for a week, Lily in tow. Yay! I'm gonna paint my toenails a frosty metallic baby blue and lay in the hammock!

When I got back to the city, later on in the week Lily and I went with Austin (who is getting SO big!) and his mother Amanda to Jamison Square, where they have a water waving pool area with rocks to sit on and such, and the water is drained and fresh water chlorenated. Lily had a blast. She always gets extremely hyper when she gets soaked, it is funny to watch her. Too bad she had to stay on her leash and harness. But the children were friendly with her and she was likewise...even taking her first chance at swimming.


I smile every time I see the two of them together. Amanda is still sober, is working at the integrative health center, her tcells are wonderful...Austin is STILL HIV negative. It makes me happy in these days of the pandemic, knowing that she will live to see her son grow up. He saved her life, and it is such a joy to see him. He's got MANY Uncles/Aunties in the building (all fags of course). Like Lily, he is a spoiled one.






Tee hee...she looks like such a different animal!
Just a couple weeks shy of a year old...he's quite the sweet boy!

There you have it, a long entry with many overdue pics!

xoxo ya all and happy 4th of July to those in the USA! Don't drink and drive...but remember, those "fun snaps" things (the ones that you can just pull out of a bag and drop on cement and they pop) are fun to put under the pads of a toilet seat, you can do a few of them per pad and when someone sits down on the seat...tee hee, well you can guess...I love the holidays...it's all about love and kindness!

Yay. There is a God...Perez Hilton got his ass kicked.

Alright...I know I owe you folks some pictures but I just want to continue my relaxation now that I am at home as I readjust to being back in the city. So, pictures will follow in the coming days. I am also waiting for some other pictures to be emailed to me from friends from that visit, so I have lots to post, but it will take a few days. I just don't have the patience to sit with my camera and wait for them to load, etc.

Patience has never been a virtue of mine!

It is very odd. I am actually yearning to not be home at the present time. Not because I don't appreciate and love where I live, quite the contrary! I love living in the city, but that tease being away from the daily grind of city noise was just that...a tease.

The coastal mountains were a blessing, even if it was raining a good deal of the time when I was down there. When the rain let up, the only noises I heard were dozens of different types of birds. I felt right back at home, when at 2am, the train tracks nearby had a route coming through as the axles and noises put me back to sleep.

Now I am sitting in my air conditioned apartment avoiding everyone and watching the new Friday the 13th movie, annoyed that people still are remaking classic slasher films for a quick buck. Oddly, the title of the film isn't introduced until 25 minutes into the film.

Hopefully I may be returning this summer for a couple of weeks to look after Smithers and Sammy again. I am keeping my fingers crossed.

Lily had a wonderful time and played to her hearts content with Bailey. It was entertaining watching how much of a scrapper her 13 lbs to his 80lbs in weight played against him. They were hilarious. 20 minutes after our arrival and she was already covered in mud.

Smithers didn't remember me. But I hope to be babysitting him again soon, as well as Sammy. Poor Sammy, he's getting so old and is having problems moving about. What was really cute about the dogs coming to visit with their owners, is that their cats (Billy and Bob) followed them the quarter mile down the railroad tracks to see where they were going. I love it when cats do stuff like that. Those country cats were pretty funny when I was housesitting last summer. Such sweeties, and awfully cute. BUT very much outdoor cats.

Smithers was more than happy to come and snag treats from me as I tried to bribe him into letting me hold him. Gourmet premium organic treats, and the little shit still wouldn't let me hold him. I was bummed because I was so looking forward to seeing him. This is the dog who after all always wanted to be hanging out wherever I was in the house and following me around. He even goes upstairs on his own without any help (which he never did before) because he wanted to be where I was.

Oh how short the memories of animals can be!

Sammy was happy to see me, the old fart that he is.

It was nice to just be out and away from the city and everything that comes with it: noise, pollution, and annoying neighbours.

I just felt so damned content away from the city and all the noise, as much as I like where I live it sure is nice to just go from chaos to complete silence.

Highlights of the trip would have to be, that Jolie had enough gas in her to have ended energy crises rolling blackouts in California. Thanks to our cooking, but good lord! That girl can still fart like a 12 year old.

Gas aside, I really enjoyed having her with me for the visit. I felt bad though, because she has such a hard time sleeping in a place without blackout curtains (me too sometimes). We both shared an extreme disdain for the dipshit on the train ride home, who was one of those quasi-intellectual types that talked non stop of his love for foreign languages and dialects of Germany and the proper way to pronounce the word Hebrew. Having to sit across the aisle from that asshole was annoying for a 2 hour train ride, as he just would not shut up about his wonderful mind and his education. In both German and French, I piped up with rude comments to him that he didn't hear, as I didn't wish to get in a confrontation (I did have Lily with me after all, one must set an example as a parent) with him, and then he had the gall to complain that my earpods to my iPod were too loud.

The nerve of that rat bastard! I couldn't even listen to the Prodigy in peace!

On a lighter note, my tcells are the highest they have ever been since my HIV diagnosis: 679!

Still under construction...

I'm so annoyed with PETA. Can I say that their freaking out over Obama killing a fly is just tops? Where were the moments of concern when they were found out to have put many unwanted animals asleep, and they bitch about a fucking fly? Radical vegans and their stupid agenda do nothing but annoy me. Sorry, the world isn't going to convert to not eating meat at all just because they get off on eating tofu 24/7.

Some activist groups do nothing but annoy me!

Anywhoo, Kissy and his daughter Lily are off to the coast. She's catching a train with myself and Jolie and off we go!

Pictures to follow!

Sorry for the mess

Diary of a Lost Boy will be back to normal soon

Under Construction!!!

I always enjoy looking at a beautifully done fashion ad. This is vintage Versace, with Audrey Marnay.

Oh the things in life that I find highly entertaining.

Usually it is always at someone else’s expense.

This time, it’s me, and only in my twisted mind, can I find such hilarity.

In a previous blog entry, I mentioned that I am participating in a medication for people that are HIV positive. The medicine that I am to be trying is an anti-biotic that has already been approved by the FDA for people with Alzheimer’s disease that has shown some success in staving off certain infections of cognitive problems of people’s brains and now they are wanting to see how it will work for HIV+ people within a certain t-cell range to ward off possible future AIDS related dementia. I have an undetectable viral load, and at last count my blood work (from the screening process for this drug) showed that my t-cells have stayed exactly the same, in the 460’s. I also have some mercury levels in my blood….dammit, all that fish!

So these screening tests are to find impairment in reflexes and reactions of the brain. I passed, obviously having some impairment.

Could it be from the HIV? Who knows!

Could it be all the years of my drug use? I don’t think there maybe isn’t a mild contribution from those wild and fun days. There is always a price eventually that one pays from something you do to your body. Alzheimer’s disease claimed two people on my Grandfather’s side of the family (my Oma, his mother and his sister, my Great Aunt Annie) and schizophrenia claimed my father’s mother (who I never knew. The background of my father’s family is little to nothing in knowledge, hence the miserable person my dad was when alive) but thankfully, I am out of the age range where as a male I would develop anything having to do with schizophrenia.

I didn’t think that there was anything wrong with me, but I guess according to these tests there is some sort of impairment. When the doctor called to say that I was accepted into the study because I had some impairment....

Well, I squawked into the phone “What? I’m retarded?” and then let out one of my earth shattering cackles as I was told when my next step in the study as far as medical tests go and when the appointment is.

Looks like I am going to have a busy next couple weeks. I have a meeting with a neurologist next week and then the following week, I am getting a spinal tap.

A spinal tap! Ya know, honestly all I can say is that the financial compensation for participating in the study itself is good but for some of these physical invasive tests that they do can be uncomfortable you get a nice comfortable bonus.

I wonder if in my spinal fluid they’ll see under a microscope all of the little pictures that were on the confetti size pieces of paper that the LSD I have taken throughout the years has been dropped on. (I especially have fond memories of the Felix the Cat and rainbow fractal blotters of my teen years…le sigh, the memories! I can honestly say, I never had a bad LSD trip. I had a blast…but that is another entry in of itself)

So, after I found out I was “special” and came back into my apartment to giggle some more and smoke a joint is when life handed me lemonade in the form of my iPod (on shuffle) and as I puffed away on the sweet green herb I was joined by the Fergie and the Black Eyed Peas, singing “Let’s Get Retarded”.

I’m glad I am not incontinent.

Like I said, I am glad that I will be getting all medical care associated with this drug trial taken care of by the drug company, but a spinal tap? They better throw in some massive painkillers for me because I know I will have quite the headache for the next day or so.

But oh well. My results will be used to help other people, and I like that aspect. I have all the time in the world, and this study will be for a year.

Now I guess I can put “Retarded Guinea Pig” on my resume.

All things aside, I was so pleased to get a package in the mail from Jen that contained a bunch of my old Vogue magazines from the 90s.

I fear my walls will never be the same!

I guess that one of the girls in this video from Russian pop band NikitA, is the anniversary playmate for Playboy's 55th anniversary, which I guess caused quite a stir amidst the girlfriends Hugh Hefner has, namely Holly Madison. I have to admit I was impressed with the fetish aspect of the video (vinyl, whips, pony play...how the fuck do I know all this useless information? Hanging around perverts does that to you!). I also really liked the make-up used in the video. Inspiration for the next model I choose.

I wish it all looked that interesting, this whole business of gambling!

Addiction is something that I feel like my life will forever be touched by, no matter what it is.

I have a friend who finally had a melt down, because her gambling is out of control. She’s textbook, completely when it comes to what they would say is a compulsive gambler.

Having me as her friend of course isn’t going to be easy because I refuse to mince words on my feelings of how her addiction has hurt our friendship. Time obviously takes a toll on me as it builds and builds; the sheer frustration of it all. I cannot begin to put into words how I am feeling about it, other than I really am not feeling sorry for her, per say but more sorry for her family. She had a meltdown finally which I will look at with a double take, as to see if she is buying time for sympathy or if she fully realizes that she is in danger of literally losing everything: family, home, possessions, etc because of her fucking addiction to a machine. It has put enormous strain on her friendships and relationships with her partner.

“But you went through rehab, you should know about all the 12 steps…” and what not I get when I voice my irritation to people who have also gone to rehab.

I don’t think it helps matters any when I declare that giving myself up to a higher power had nothing to do with my recovery from drug use, to say that it was so would be me being a hypocrite like all those bible thumpers out there who pick and choose from scriptures what it is that they will rail against and accept as truth while damning everyone else.

Plain and simple, I didn’t meditate or use prayer or a conversation with God to lift me from the “clutches” of addiction. To me, it would have been me just refusing to accept again that I had wronged someone and that I needed to lean on someone else (rather than stand on my own two feet) to quit using drugs.

That isn’t to say that there isn’t a basis of good advice in a 12 step program, quite the contrary I found that (to a point) listening to people share their stories in the beginning of my recovery was somewhat helpful. I attend one NA meeting a week, because it is required of me to do so where I live and because there are people at that meeting that I look forward to seeing every week. But they do know that it is pointless to call on me to share my story or what not because I do not hold back when I say that NA had nothing to do with saving my life. How can you tell a bunch of drones that per usual, I did it my own way and here I am: alive, breathing, sober and not attending 50 meetings a week, without getting looks of sheer horror from people that I have the audacity to not only say so, but that maybe there are other options out there than a 12 step meeting?

Though I would like to say that I am perfect, I know that I am not. The last 2 years (and I have been sober 2 years and almost one month) have been such a growth for me spiritually that I think a very different person has emerged, but there are still things that get under my skin and sadly that has a lot to do with drug and alcohol use. I would be perfectly content in a room full of people on E, so long as I could make sure they were drinking their water and enjoying the lollipops I gave them. How can you tell someone in the midst of their brain drowning in a rush of serotonin that they are addicted? Not true, but just remember that you can enjoy the fruits of the lotus so long as you don’t abuse it (in my opinion) and for me personally I would indulge too much. That is why I cannot do street drugs in any format. One pill will for me will literally be the skateboard that takes me to the pharmacy to pick up syringes to shoot up meth (oddly enough, I never could do it myself…I’d have to find someone else to do it but I NEVER shared needles…I have always been about harm reduction. A person can be stupid without being a total idiot…if that makes sense!)

Alcohol is one of those things that I can honestly enjoy for what it is. If I have been outdoors all day in the heat, nothing beats a beer with lemon or lime. It’s the crispness and quenching it does for me. But that is it. Pizza is the same. I like to have some kind of ale with a slice; it just isn’t the same without it. But, that is where it stops. I honestly cannot think of when the last time was when I was drunk. I can honestly say I would be one of those people who enjoy a drink for the taste, and even then it is rare that I do consume an alcoholic beverage.

Really, I can’t. I’d rather light a joint, put on some music and write to my hearts content than know that I will wake up with a hangover.

But my friend and her gambling…what to do? This is a tough one.

How does one do an intervention without making it “personal”?

This is me we are talking about and holding back is not one of my strengths, no matter how much I have personally evolved. Hammering home the reality is exactly what she needs, and she is too stubborn to want to hear it.

I am in no mood to don kid gloves.

I am not out for her blood or flesh, but I do not believe that at this point “pussy-footing” around is going to do her any good. She needs to be fully aware of what she has to lose and quite honestly I do not enjoy the fact that as part of her intervention that I have to be firm in my convictions and tell her so.

Sigh.

Oh what to do.

I guess I would just like for my life to not be involved with people who are battling some sort of addiction. I don’t want the misery of it. The last 2 years of my weeding out everything that is unhealthy hasn’t been easy, but I don’t want to constantly have to be around people who addicted to something.

I hear people grumbling that it bothers them as smokers that in the state of Oregon that you cannot smoke in bars anymore.

Kudos! I loved living in San Francisco and going to a bar that didn’t have a thick cloud of smoke surrounding it.

Tsk tsk. Is there ever going to be a happy middle ground for me? How does one be supportive in a situation like this without coming off as being mean?

I don’t know what to do.

I’m lost.

Timeless...

I never get sick of looking at pictures of Louise Brooks!

One of my all time favourite pastimes/habits/joys in life is yelling at people when I am utterly annoyed.

Thanks to modern medicine and the wonders of Zoloft, those moments are extremely rare anymore these days.

When my personality is allowed to roam the streets as I go about my daily business, all I can say is that it literally is a crapshoot as to how I am going to react to situations. Well, certain situations.

I absolutely HATE going to the mall. Malls are just enclosed boredom to me, and I only go for a handful of reasons which are wholly justified: M.A.C, Sephora, and a pet store, that has been liquidating their warehouse and sells everything from 25-75% off (I go there for whitening shampoo for Lily and the only “bones” I let her have, made of only baked mashed spuds and chicken stock) and nearly every time I go out I end up buying her some kind of toy. Plus, it is a good way for her to get socialized with people especially children (not that she needs any help in that department…she is wonderful with infants and toddlers). But of course there are plenty of annoying kiosks for cell phone companies with men in ties (having to wear a tie to work in a mall should be a clue that something is seriously wrong with your employer) trying to annoy me. That is where my iPod, blasting Goldfrapp or Roisin Murphy comes in handy, and I can walk (Lily in tow) right past them without being annoyed.

The only times I get annoyed with people, is when I am downtown and I am constantly stopped by people from all these non-profits that are either environmental groups or wanting me to save a child in some foreign country. This is why I always have my iPod on and don’t even make eye contact with them. But when they do manage to snag me, I inform them “I’d feel a lot better knowing you weren’t also out here to make a living trying to sign me up, that you are doing this for ‘the people’.” And walk away.

(I know that when I buy anything from the Viva Glam collection at M.A.C that not only am I getting a fabulous lipstick, but I know that 100% of the retail price goes to the M.A.C AIDS fund. You know me folks, I plug that product like that old woman Madge from the Palmolive dish soap commercials!)

Or my sheer delight in yelling at rude grocery store clerks because they bitch about Lily. Plain and simple, she falls under the “service dog” American’s with Disabilities Act clause.

I remind them that their shopping carts have more bacteria than an abscess not to mention fecal matter and then wonder aloud “Should I call Fox’s KPTV here in Portland and see if they have done a study on that for broadcast?” as I grab my groceries and giggle out the store.

That always shuts them up.

She does provide a service. She keeps me company, and she brings smiles to the faces of everyone that she meets who don’t have a stick up their asses. Plain and simple, my little baby has a job to do and 50% of that job is being cute. The other 50% is personality and she passes with flying colours hands down.

I may be the happiest and most content that I have ever been in my life, but honestly it’s nice to know I still have some “bitch” left in me when I need to invoke it.

Maybe if I am lucky, a Jehovah’s Witness will come by today so I can ask them if they want some birthday cake (I might have to bake a cake in that case so if they do decide to accept the “poison” of a birthday celebration they have something to go along with their tea).

Decisions, decisions…

The jewish mother has returned...I am going to be quite the fanatic in what this dog gets as far as food, treats, and treatments for bugs go. She had 2 different types of worms, one from fleas and one from eating raw meat...the raw meat was given to her by a neighbour (of course without my consent) and I chewed him out when it happened. Sure enough, she got a worm from that meat. I am going to be starting a new blog soon about natural and safe treatments, and food reviews for dogs.

Now I finally have a career.

Le sigh le sigh....................................

So, here it is nearly 6am and I have already slept for 8 hours after falling asleep from a nap.

Lately, my insomnia that has been driving me nuts has also been giving me these shitty owl-like hours that cause me an endless source of irritation. On top of that I have to take Lily to the vet as she hasn’t really had a solid stool in a week and I have tried everything, though she has no temperature and has been drinking her water normally and even seems to have more energy than ever and hogging down food…I just need to go and have her looked at this morning, so I guess things happen for a reason and she is literally my child after all.

I might as well change my last name to Feldman, as I am such the stereotypical Jewish mother. I watch her like a hawk! I’m going to ask for extra hours at my little jobs I do, so I can buy her some pet health insurance. In these days with the economy, you cannot let certain things slip by the wayside.

Luckily during this study of medications that I am participating in, I am getting blood draws nearly once a week where complete cd4 and viral load tests are done as the test medication levels and my HIV meds as well, so we shall see how my meds are working and if my numbers have spiked, hence the energy level decline and my extra hours of sleep. I’m not depressed or anything, but we should look into it.

This weekend, was a rather mellow one for me as I got to spend an entire day with Michelle and entertain her and keep her from being sad.

Her marriage isn’t exactly going very well, ever since someone broke into her house and they have yet to find the culprits (of which witnesses say were teenagers). Robbed of her medical marijuana and her entertainment system (flat screen and Wii as well as DVD player) she and her husband haven’t been getting along. Her husband is extremely intelligent (book smart and an incredible carpenter) yet very much a 29 year old 11 year old (he is a fascinating read though, I cannot put him down…seriously a page turner…remind me to write down some dish on him someday) and hasn’t really been able to discuss his feelings of hurt and the issue of his safe haven and space being so invaded like that. So, for the last 3 weeks Michelle and he have been fighting, something that is painful in their 8 year marriage.

He left this weekend to do some work with his church, and help build their church camp and Michelle (still being a hopeful optimist…which is healthy) hopes that maybe some time side by side with his pastor to go over his feelings just might straighten him out. So, being alone and blue she spent the day at my house as Trina isn’t feeling well.

Reinforcements were called: a facial, playing in my make-up bag, smoking reefer and enjoying healthy snacks, and she got to see “The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” for the first time. We also watched “Notes on a Scandal” which was good, but wasn’t as rewarding as her laughing, smiling, and bouncing around to the multi-generational soundtrack to Priscilla, complete with ABBA and Gloria Gaynor belting “I Will Survive” as drag queens pranced about in divine Academy Award winning costumes (the year the costumers won had a budget of: and were up against films that had budgets of millions) in the campfire moonlight of the outback. She also laughed her ass off when the queen named Felicia did an operatic Aria on top of a high heel shoe atop a bus flying down the freeway with a ling shimmering silver train behind her. The very first time I saw that scene, I was on LSD…that was 16 years ago…and to this day it still uplifts my spirits in a way that is so very, very healthy.

I’m still smiling about it now. Nothing better than a down and out dame hanging out with her best gay as he provides fun distractions to cheer her up and cheer her. I still am feeling so giddy about it, as not only in action but watching those queens stomp about. What is also fun about that film as at random times throughout the film, these glitter flickers just do random “drive bys” to remind you of the sparkles.

Here is the clip.

Time is now, 4:30am and I am beaming with bittersweet happiness. I am watching Sean Penn give the best performance I have ever seen in the film “Milk” about Harvey Milk, the first man ever elected to a city government who was homosexual. Filmed on the exact street I lived on when I first got to San Francisco (I lived on that very historic block between Market and 18^th) and in scenes I am even able to see my bedroom window from the 5 room flat my ex boyfriend Scott and I both shared.

Growing up in a small town in Oregon, as a boy who didn’t fit in (well, for awhile….I entered that school my freshman year, a social misfit and walked out a cheerleader…in fact I am going to email the school to see if they will scan that yearbook picture…that needs to be posted here) I was extremely lucky to be entering a high school who had many openly gay people on both staff and faculty. The French teachers, both I must declare as the Honorable: Madame Cheri Taylor and Monsieur Ron Notto. The librarian, was an outspoken –Enya and Joni Mitchell- chocolate lover woman named Judy Johns, who became my confidant and good friend.

Judy was the first person I came out to, at the age of 14 my freshman year. No one else, would know for another 2 years though they suspected it.

“I know you are bored by American History, but you are very inspired by the Renaissance…there is also something else you must know about.” And she walked me to an entire bookshelf column devoted to Gay and Lesbian history. A bookshelf I had walked by many times but as something in class research didn’t ever give me cause to even glance at.

“I encourage you to find some things of interest, but you must include historical and Gay and Lesbian rights movements of the latter 1960’s to now. One day you will thank me for it later.” And she gave me a wink and a square of Ghirardelli chocolate.

All of it, was so relevant (still is) to my development because it was still very fresh. I was born 5 years after the Stonewall riots in New York occurred and was around 9 years old when I learned what a homosexual was and it was about both activism and sheer ignorance on both sides of the coin: AIDS.

Harvey Milk, Andy Warhol, Halston, Basquiat, Susan Sontag, Keith Haring and Andy’s “Reflections of a Rock Lobster” became subjects that no library in Corvallis, Oregon could satisfy: the public Library, my high-school library, and even the Oregon State University libraries couldn’t quench that thirst for knowledge on gay rights. Then of course, from that self imposed (and glad about it) on going study I learned everything from the term “camp” to the films of John Waters and the director of “Milk” itself, fellow Oregonian Gus van Sant.

Sean Penn captured the spirit of Harvey like no one else ever could. Surprising, because when he was married to Madonna he was an unpredictable prick, who was prone to violence, heavy drinking, and wasn’t exactly always nice to gay people despite knowing gay actor Paul Lynd when he was a child.

“My Own Private Idaho” was the first film I ever saw of Gus’. I remember lying to my parents to my friend Angie and I could go see it. I was 14. So, after my life of decadence and my search for self acceptance I honestly wish that the film had been made when I was living in San Francisco, leaving in 2004. When I stepped out of my front door, at Castro street (right above and next to the Bar on Castro and across the street from the Ben and Jerry’s, the historic Castro theatre, and the now defunct store “All American Boy”…in fact, my bedroom was right above the dance-floor of that annoying bar. I can still to this day spit out the predictable annoyingly gay music and playlists the DJ forced me to endure…no wonder I became a meth addict…I couldn’t sleep!) I could look to my right and see Harvey Milk’s old camera shop (now a café called Harvey’s) just down the street on the corner of 18^th and Castro. Or to my right, at the MUNI stop on Market and Castro which is Harvey Milk Plaza, the site of his many rallying speeches and a place I would sit at and reflect and soak in the beautiful summer days and drink in a historical part of the gay movement.

I had made it to that spot and honestly, it was fate. I still cannot believe that by stroke of luck, I ended up there…no matter the later end result.

And though I later experienced the beginning phase of darkest recesses of my life, I wish that I had been there as one of the hundreds and hundreds of extras to see and participate in the personification of Harvey (Idol #1 –tied) via Sean, with Gus (Idol #1-tied…for that 14 year old gay boy in a small Oregon town) behind the camera filming those historical speeches reenacted down to the last detail, and of the filming of the candle light vigil down Market Street, to the downtown city hall to film the night Harvey and Mayor George Moscone were murdered by Dan White.

All of those years of reading, and scouring for documentaries, and eventually living in a very historical neighbourhood to the homophile movement. This honestly has to be one of the most beautiful movies I have ever seen.

Getting to see the historical footage that I have never seen before…wow…I haven’t been this excited about a movie in a long time….total eye candy for the activist nature in me that I don’t talk about a lot on this blog (something I have decided to do in the coming weeks…this is me after all, so it will be entertaining) and reenactments of footage of the legendary public debates that I have seen of the actual Harvey Milk. Gus really did justice to this film. He has restored my faith as a director that has been lost for years due to his mainstream flirtations, and brought back Harvey’s still relevant message.

It is a fucking shame that the film “Factory Girl” about mentally ill but brilliant 60’s icon Edie Sedgwick didn’t get the same treatment.

The only thing missing was the infamous Cockettes (though, an actor portraying drag singer Sylvester who had been a Cockette was there) didn’t do some random high kick through some random scene (which used to happen in the Old van Sant movies…there was always an element that was so random that would happen…but this movie is so beautifully uncanny and straight forward…must be Priscilla tugging at me…I guess I am popping that in next!).

San Francisco will always be a bittersweet experience for me. Though I was a functioning addict at the time, and not for the entire time I lived there…there is a beauty of that place that no place else has ever really lifted, made laugh, reflected, hurt and would eventually break my heart, pieces of which are still there…

And sometimes miss.

Trying to find some inspiration these days...and not succeeding!

I find that I am still at odds with my cosmetic artistry.

I miss being able to be around a plethora of people who inspire me and (without knowing it) guiding my eye to see them on my terms. I almost feel like that aspect of my character is tainted because of drug use, due to the fact that sometimes me going out in public requires half a milligram of xanax. I am out of practice and spend a nice amount of money at Sephora from time to time. There, it just sits…the new eye-shadows and pencils and new brushes. I am so colour focused right now that when I get into that store, I don’t spend my money wisely on getting bases, concealers, primers, water proof body make-up and such.

Sarah and I have been meaning to get together and create but our photographer left town, and after the sprits of ammonia fumes awoke me from my sideways faint due to what I can only refer to as the “Owl Girl Incident”….well...I haven’t been the same since.

I couldn’t and cannot get inspired and I think that funk caught up with me today when I bought this obnoxious eye-shadow pallet from Sugar cosmetics nearly a year ago and here it sits…unopened.

Sarah is also out of town. When she gets back, we have to make up some head shots of someone with our name in the credits and a business card to qualify for a discount on M.A.C cosmetics at 30%.

But again, there is that whole “Kissyfur’s Next Top Model” issue that I need to overcome, along with my fear of my craft.

I guess that artists go through periods in their work, as to what it is that they will do in terms of expression. It just makes me think of being indoors with an air-conditioner. Need I say more? I just want to be outside in the sun and for once get a tan and not a crisp winter or fall day.

Ever since sobriety I have really enjoyed being outdoors. This weather has been a godsend and the cool evenings are just right for Lily and I to go on our daily “walkies”.

I also am just not feeling energetic, and I think that has a lot to do with this rabbit food diet that I have been on. I don’t know if it is because I am not disciplined? Honestly, I am tired of eating vegan yogurts and only fresh veggies made into salsas or what not. I need more than nuts and tempeh. Eat gerbil food if you like, but my hat is off to you and I am glad you have that drive.

I’m having a melt down and tomorrow I am marching straight to the store and taking advantage of the salmon they are having on sale right now.

I can’t do this hamster food anymore! The fresh veggies will remain as my reach for snacks, I have enjoyed that aspect and the vegan low calorie sauce I made to dip them in, so I guess something good came out of it.

Lily and I are getting a workout climbing all the hills when out on our late evening walks. I cherish walking her because it is dark outside and my iPod is blasting something fun. Now she’s all curled up and I am smoking a blunt

I started my study yesterday, for a drug in clinical trials that is to offset a side effect from HIV medications. I am kind of conflicted about it, because I am having a hippie issue with it. It is made from the bark of a tree from the rain forest.

Ok. I can be selfish because I whine when I cannot escape the toilet from my HIV meds and weigh that against what the world needs for oxygen. I am conflicted because even though I have never been to South America, I will honestly say that I am annoyed at all the clear cut areas on what used to be scenic Oregon drives. I cannot begin to seethe about how the areas that were demolished that ruined natural water sources for families living out there and trashing the value of their own property as a result.

Who wants to be on the toilet all the time?

Who wants to gaze at the “replanting” that was done on previous clear-cut and now that the trees have grown the make up and colours of the mountains are significantly altered during the autumn months and do not reflect the memories of my childhood.

I am feeling conflicted because I didn’t know when I signed up for the study until I went in for my appointment if the source from which the test is coming from, is sustainable and after a series of tests on blood, fecal, urine, and wellness I walked out financially compensated, and will continue to be compensated for 28 weeks of study. I do not know as of this moment if I am taking the unapproved drug or if I have a placebo. During that time, whenever I see the nurse and doctor throughout the study (and I have to) I will have to go over my diaries with them and then I will walk out yet again, financially compensated.

Interesting that my city doesn’t qualify for some of the HIV/AIDS money from Ryan White funds on certain levels and services are being slashed across the board, but these “guinea pig” projects seem to be the only thing being done of interest right now, and it is a corporate interest and not the government, but the government will benefit from the trial of course, they have shady dealings with the pharmaceutical companies.

Alright.

The moment that you ALL of have been waiting for has arrived. (and I apologize for the delay in bringing you evidence).

I am not going to draw it out, as it has been drawn out long enough.

Your favourite opportunist blogger, got to meet...

The one...

The only...

Nellie Oleson, from "Little House on the Prairie".

Alison Arngim aka Nellie, was in town for a fundraiser for the HIV Day Center here in Portland, a place I volunteer for once in awhile when there is some activity. She performed her standup routine "Confessions of a Prairie Bitch" at a nightclub here, where 100% of the proceeds went to help the HIV Day Center. She had a private gathering for the clients, and they got to meet her as did yours truly.

I'll spend more on her in another entry, but I will share a pic of her and I...one that, I am sorry is as cropped as it is, because it had 2 clients in it that I am not able to show due to the confidentiality rules I have to abide by, so you only get to see a sliver of me next to her with my bitchy grin...So, I gladly call it, a "Tale of 1 and 1/2 Bitches". I will post others later and fill you in on everything else, but due to what I was up to this afternoon and lack of sleep for the past several days, all I want to do is curl up with my Lily and sleep.

Here is the pic, I will post others later.

Ok folks...I do have photographic evidence...BUT you will have to wait until I have had a crap and a nap, because my insomnia was in high gear last night as it has been for the last 2 weeks and I have had only 1 hour of sleep so I am going to slumber, and will be posting them later when I wake up.