Friday, March 15, 2002

Ok...I haven't even begun to read all the other Bloggers takes on the Diane Sawyer interview with Rosie last night so my jist of it is as untainted and as personal at this point as it's gonna be.

Maybe I'm just a sucker, but at several points during the two-hour broadcast I just wanted to cry - especially during any of the interviews with the Lofton Family and their kids.

My mother was an orphan - beyond the proverbial baby in the basket - she "literally" was the baby in the basket (along with a paternal twin sister who she was immediately seperated from and did not meet again til her early 20's) left at the door of an orphanage in Washington state. My mother was a byproduct of the foster care system of the 40s and the 50s, passed from home to home. Some nice, some abusive, some just cold. She a beautiful (literally - this woman was a HOTTIE), talented, intelligent, good-natured and kind young lady was - never adopted, never someones daughter, someones sister - she was denied that love and I can still see to this day - in her words and her actions - how it haunts her.

When representative Ball from Florida spoke - it was not only infuriating, not only ridiculous, but absolutely depressing. This man doesn't strike me as stupid, that's the depressing part (I have always naively believed that intelligent people are able to see the Right Wing Bullshit Rhetoric for what it is - HATE) - but foolish - so mired down in conservative, black-and-white, rules are rules, let me use religion as my crutch for having no real opinions of my own. Even conceding that what the Lofton's had done was "commendable", but still wanting to wash those actions clean for the sake of his rules and his horrifyingly stereotypical description of what a Mother & Father are like and represent that would have sent any Woman Rights follower looking for a gun.

I am NOT a role model for gays. Yes I have a great job, I'm funny, I'm educated, play well with others, fall into that so-called and poorly described "straight-acting" category...but lets face it, I hit the GENRE statistic - I've slept around, I use drugs for recreation, I attend circuit parties, I've played in the bath houses and the bookstores - this does not change the fact that I still think I'm a HELLUVA guy to know - but I'm no role model.

I want kids, but NOT yet, I spent my early years a very serious young man trying to be a gay man my family and friends would be proud of, then I traveled and learned about life outside the US, then I went to college late, and now SLOWLY I am settling down. I have found the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, we have gotten a dog, we are looking for a home to call OURS.


But there are so many of you out there who aren't - I think of Aaron and of Beau. These guys seem like they would make AMAZING fathers.

And you know one day I'll leave my selfish phase and I'll want to hear that pitter-patter of a little boy or girl, to teach them how to draw, make up songs, play in the grass, get dirty...

and I just want to know that when I get there...

that I can.

Wednesday, March 13, 2002


I had a HUGE treat last night when my best friend since college - Victoria - made a surprise visit to Phoenix from La Jolla. LOTS of wine, our FAVORITE restaurant and our FAVORITE men made it really easy to ignore how shitty the waiter was and how expensive the check was.

Tuesday, March 12, 2002

At first it was a strange warm feeling stirring inside my stomach - DAMN is that the Chili from last night ??, but then the sensation washed over me all warm and fuzzy (no I wasn't on X, that was Saturday night - BYE-BYE CroBar - SING IT! another bar bites the dust, and another one does, and another one does, another bar bites the dust HEY! ) - I felt it creep through my Big Star Jeans - filling my new - really awesome Steve Hammond brown suede, green leather, bowling striped sneakers and then zinging straight through every available blood vessel like a starship rocketing to my heart. Awesome amounts of blood pumping - nearly causing a cardiovascular overload I haven't experienced since I watched all Real World Seattle episodes back-to-back on a marathon weekend (SLAP that SICK bitch you CLOSET HOMO!)....

I have arrived....
I am a flutter...
hmmmm....the interesting referral/key word search phrase of the day seems to be:


Now one would normally think that this would be an immediate link to, well, you know who...but it just left me thinking how many other possible - alternative - sites it could pull up, suddenly I'm picturing naked bunnies, smoking cigs, wearing harnesses - seductively daring you to "Fuck Like A Rabbit", Overstuffed Teddy Bears forced into unnatural positions against the better grace of God, FAO Schwartz and natural fiber and worst of all - Ziefried & Roy wearing diamond studded-cock rings, purring and lisping sexual innuendo to a frightened, caged cheetah while prancing around in white, mink coats.

...I guess I now know why my mother also said an overactive imagination is a very bad thing indeed.