If I were one of Santa's reindeer....

I would be Rudolph

If I were one of the seven dwarfs....

I would be sneezy

A is for...

my shiny new 14" ibook with super drive. I am too cool for school!

Denied!!

So last night I went to Ruby Skye with full confidence that I was on 'The List'. My friend and I walked up to a woman holding a clipboard and presented our ids. She politely informed us that we were not on the list. I asked if there might be another list. She replied that it is possible that the headlining DJ may bring his own list later in the night. We checked with will call, and even approached the general manager. No luck. Tickets were selling for a whopping $35 a pop, and my friend I just didn't fell like it was worth it. We called our friends who were supposed to be meeting us there, to let them know we couldn't get in, and they told us that they had just walked in five minutes ago! We debated about sucking up the charge to join our friends, but we opted to call it a night. Thanks to the nice passerby who was kind enough to offer us some blow while we were standing outside deciding what to do.

Oh yeah,

As if falling in love and seeing my first opera weren't enough for an unassuming Thursday evening, I saw Michael Jordan filming a commercial or something in a laundromat on Geary Street. Dude is BIG!

Save the Drama for Your Mama

I went to my first opera last night. It was Eugene Onegin and man was the story over the top. The set was gorgeous and the music was very relaxing though. I would definitely give opera another go if the story was a bit less 'let's duel 'til the death because you danced with my fiance'.

Last night I fell in love!

I mean I have butterflies and a deep, deep yearning. His name is Roberto del Carlo and I met him at Gimme Shoes on Grant Street, and if I can't have him I'll just DIE! Of course I'm referring to an exquisite pair of $375 Italian boots so it will remain an unrequited love for quite some time, but oh his beauty. Footwear has me love sick! I've gotten excited over shoes before, usually trendy, attention getting, coordinating although extremely uncomfortable little numbers. But these boots, these boots.......I was born to walk through life with these works of art covering my feet!

I was walking to the ladies room at the office and as I got two steps past the kitchen area I stopped dead in my tracks; and I wasn’t even sure why until a second later when my conscious caught up with my subconscious and an image of a large, pink confection type box on a counter flashed in front of my eyes. I leaned back to peek inside the kitchen area and confirm my enticing vision, and behold, my eyes had not lied. I may be disciplined enough not to act on my dangerous sweet tooth impulses, but recognizing a tempation seems to be hardwired in my DNA!

Exercise the right NOT to Accessorize!

So a friend of mine here in SF recently joined an online social network of people from her home country in Eastern Europe. Her motive wasn't dating necessarily, but she's open to consider any intriguing prospects that may show interest. Prospects that is who don't wear fanny packs! She got an email from a handsome, well traveled, pleasant sounding man; however, she said that in his profile photo he is wearing a big ol' black fanny pack. And it's not a picture from the 80's, it's from last Summer. Shallow? Oh hell no! I obligatorily asked my friend if he was cute enough to overlook the atrocity, but I think we all know that no degree of hunkiness could make up for a style blunder of this magnitude. Listen up men; it may be convenient, it may be culturally acceptable, but it damn sure ain't gonna get ya laid!

Dancing Machine

You know you want to join us at Minna on Wednesdays!

Rocky Mountain Oysters

Now I had heard this phrase before, but I don't remember learning that it was so goddamned revolting. I am officially disturbed to the core now. I was trying to find annual festivals in Montana that may be of interest to large business owners. (The businesses are large; not the business owners)

Hooch + Shopping = Mayhem

It doesn’t get any better than free booze and brownies, and 20% off everything in one of your favorite overpriced clothiers, followed by some mid-week booty shakin'. Here are Your Majesty's favorite moments from an unexpectedly swilly night out with the girls.

5) Melanie’s ‘I’m not 30 yet’ dance at the bus stop.

4) Slurring “It’s probably the booze” to a cab driver who asked me if I had allergies after I sneezed four times in a row as I teetered into a Starbuck’s on Union Street to use the bathroom while carrying a cup of gin-spiked pink lemonade.

3) Mirella’s demonstrative objection to overpriced micro-skirts.

2) Making a snide remark to a guy at the bar because he wouldn’t move to let me order.

1) Getting asked out by a guy who once told my friend “You got nice tits”. Bonus: he didn’t even ask me my name.

Twilight Zone

So I have a good friend helping me out with a project in the office today, and since the said project is monotonously mind numbing, I brought in portable cd players and headphones so we could jam out to dance music. Yesterday I had this random flash vision of my friend cutting her headphone cord. About 15 minutes ago she called my name and when I turned around she was holding the headphones in one hand, and the length of the cord in the other. She felt bad because she broke my headphones, I completely freaked out that I already saw this happen. Did I see it or make it happen?

End of the Road

So my Honey and I are splitsville. It happened a couple of weeks ago, but it's been a slow dissolve. It was amicable, but of course it still hurts. I have a lot of work to do on myself, which I'm looking forward to actually. One day at a time. *sniff sniff*

Fit for a Queen!!!

Civic Duty (ha-ha, I said Doody)

I did it! I did it! Here's proof.

A friend of mine has a residency at the fancy shmancy Headlands Center for the Arts. Here are some pix of his mind blowing work from the Open House a couple of weeks ago.

Saw these Harry Potter knock-offs in Chinatown. Looks like our junior wizard is pretty proud of his Magic Wand!

Nanny Nanny Boo Boo

I don't mean to rub it in, oh who am I kidding of course I mean to rub it in! THIS is where I stayed on Kauai this Spring. Well I am Royalty after all.

VOTE

Artists come in all shapes and sizes... And ages!

Follow Your Bliss!!

From The Best of Craigslist

How did this happen? I'm not quite sure.

I'm a good guy, some even say a great guy. Fun to be with, interesting witty.

I'm not.

I'm scared sometimes.
I feel alone sometimes.
I feel like people really don't know me.

This is why...

Days become weeks. Weeks become months. Months become years.

Six years at the same job.
It pays well.
I enjoy what I do.
I have a short commute.

Yet I still want to leave.

My entire life in New York.
I love the diversity.
I love the cuisine.
I love the 24/7 lifestyle.
I love being close to my family.

Yet I still want to leave.

I hate being tied down to material things.
I want to burn it all. I really do. I can't.

I commute, work, commute, sleep.
I commute, work, commute, sleep.
I commute, work, commute, sleep.
I commute, work, commute, sleep.
I commute, work, commute, sleep.

My days off are rarely my own.

Errands. All the things you have to do.

Grocery shopping, paying bills, washing clothes.

Take what you make in a month. After taxes.

Take out your rent.
Take out what you spend on food.
Take out what you spend on transportaion.
Take out what you spend on whatever vice you may have to keep yourself going.

Shopping, drugs, alchohol, gambling. Whatever.

Take out your phone bill.
Cable bill.
Utilities.
Cell bill.
Laundry money.
Gas.
Insurance.

Did I miss anything? Probably.

What do you have left?

Now add up time communting, working, and sleeping on a standard work day.

How many hours out of 24?

Shit, shower, shave, eat. How much left?

This is my point.

WE are ALL slaves to a system.
We are all stuck in some kind of routine.
We are not free to stimulate our minds.

We will never know who we really are beacuse we don't have time to explore it.

That is why I don't know who I am and it bothers me.

What has our life become.

Were we, as people, supposed to be living like this?

Better house, better car, better toys.

Are you happy?

Where is your time to enjoy life?

Who would you have become if you had that chance?


you are

bitter
broke
tired
poor
overworked
underpaid
unappreciated
stressed
depressed
lonley
weak
sad

should I go on? I could.

Burn it all.

Fuck McDonalds and Starbucks. Their products are overpriced shit.
The run mom and pop cafes and diners out of business. Fuck them.

Fuck tv.
The majority if it is mind numbing garbage.

Fuck mtv telling you what music is cool.
Go outside see a band that hasn't made it yet.
Pick up a fucking instrument.

Fuck the media for giving our mothers, sisters, and daughter eating disorders.
Fuck the media for making men insecure about their car, penis, house, hair.

What's 75% of your spam mail in your inbox. That's right.

The other 25% is for medication that we need after living the life they give us.

Push up bras, make-up, press on nails, high heels, hair color.
Fuck that.

Pride in ones appearence is one thing.

Being something you are not is something else.

You are beautiful. Stop it.
You do it because we've all been brainwashed. Wake up.

Do you know when a woman is most beautiful?
When she wakes up in the morning.

Guys, stop watching sports, start playing them.

Your missed commection is your own fault. Meet someone.

Meet someone real.

Become some one real.

Fuck material possesions.

I'm slowly getting rid of everything I own.

Eventually I'll leave New York. Probably the U.S. also.

I don't know where I'll go, what I'll do, or what I'll be.

The only thing I will have left is me. The real me. That's what I want to be.

Wine, women, and song. That's all I think I'll need.

Word of the Day

My Honey and I have an inside joke regarding words that begin with d-i-s. So I went online today to Mirriam-Webster to expand my ammunition, and found that this is actually a word!

discoing - dancing to disco music

When the back seat won't do

Love thy neighbor!

So my Honey has been staying with me for the last three months while he looked for an apartment. Well he's finally found a great place that's clean, bright, and conveniently located about 50 steps away from me! That's right, I won't have to go far for MY booty calls!

What has gotten into me?

I mean, you see and read things that are irritating all the time, but I'm actually taking the time to share with the offenders how irked I am. I was perusing the 'talent gig' section of craigslist and I see this ad:

Female Front singer WANTED for Rock Band
Drumer and Guitarist/song writer seek female lead singer for original rock band.
Age can vary, but 18-27 is desirable. Experiance is prefered, but if you have the heart and soul all the more better. We are leaving the position open to a pretty wide selection of talent so we hope to hear from all kinds that would like to fill the position.Unspireted Uncreative, and those who have stage fright need not aply,for we WILL be out in the music public eye."COMON" Yaall it's going to be fun.We all love Music all kinds, However our main goal is get back to the roots with it. Guitars throug tube amps,hammond b3, Tight rythem section amd YOU the female with the son-ofa-bitch-ofa voice. phone calls ok. Ask for Jimmy he's Amsome!! 310-***-****.

To which I posted a reply in the 'talent gig' section of craigslist:
These guys want their Rock Chick to be "spirited" but obviously not literate. What kind of a musician can't spell rhythm? And Jimmy may be "Amsome" but he can't spell worth a shit. Rock on boneheads! Smoke another bowl.

So I get an email today from one of the 'Female Front Singer' wannabees, and she writes:
I have no professional experience however I have the spirit and the soul to fuck shit up. I am into all kinds of music. I was a singer in my past life if that helps. No I am not loony tunes. Give me a call we can discuss more. I have tattoos and piercings, I am definitaly not shy I love the stage, lights, etc. I am the life of the party and an awesome entertainer I have a little fan club at the kareoke bar. And I can spell, I am rusty on reading music but I do know how I used to play the violin no I am not a geek here's a pic see if I match with the bands image...

She also includes a few skanky images of herself, oh and her email includes the phrase 'jarzeebrawd'. Well you know I just had to put her on the right track to the appropriate people. A good deed if you will. So I kindly sent her an email:
I am not the one you want to send your information to.  I was simply
replying to an ORIGINAL posting, posted by the rock band.  I have no
idea who they are, I'm not even in L.A.  Also, if you're going to add
specifically that you CAN spell, Kareoke is actually k-a-r-A-o-k-e.
Good luck to you, I hope you get in touch with the band, I've included
a link below to their posting with their email address for you.

Her reply: Thanks smart guy

My final reply, I'm a smart woman actually, and you're welcome.

I'm not in any way claiming that I can spell every word out there, but I think when you're trying to present yourself to be taken seriously, spellcheck for fuck's sake. Gosh I'm being such a Royal Pain in the Ass!!!!

Low-balling Bastards

Last year when my honey was selling some computer and music hardware on Craigslist there were a lot of replies from people offering no more than 25% of the value of the items listed. It's really quite insulting. I mean, Goddess Bless someone for putting themselves out there in the hopes of another's generosity, but yuck fou for thinking I'm an idiot.

So Your Majesty has listed her laptop for sale on Craigslist for $700 obo. I'm ready to go MAC. And you know what they say, "Once you go MAC......." Anyhoo, I got an email from a guy named Ricky who writes, "just by chance would you be willing to trade for a 5 gig ipod i need a laptop for school thank you". I do a brief ebay search and find that a 5gb ipod is worth AT MOST $150. I couldn't help myself. My reply-"Nope, no chance of that. They go for $150 MAX on ebay. Throw in about $400 and I'll think about it. Good luck.....Ricky".

I have finally posted pix from Seattle. Yes, that's a picture of the Royal Tushy, what can I say, D dared me! The Museum of Glass in Tacoma was phenom including their surprisingly delicious cafe. Mt. Ranier is one of the most glorious places I've been to yet. Peaceful, crisp, clean, good ol' country livin'.

Is the mail lady moonlighting as a dogwalker?

geschmackvoll

I was just telling a friend about how lucky I was, that in Berlin I got to eat at the most delicious vegetarian restaurant in the world! Be sure the click around and get to pictures of their desserts. They are "to die for"!

Material Girl Haiku

must express myself
i sure got into the groove
hope i live to tell

My feelers have been murdered

My honey and I have hit a bump in the road. You know I used to hear that relationships were "hard work" and I always thought that it would mean I'd be tolerating my S.O.'s behavior that bugged me. WAKE UP SISTER! "Hard work" means facing every ugly facet of how you deal with intimacy.

Very early last year I was so quick to boast about having a clean slate in the relationship dept. I was the happy bachelorette, but if I knew that if someone did engage me long enough to want to pursue, I had no baggage, I was ready. Okay, now I see I may have been ready to initiate, but to maintain.....

At this point I'm feeling feelings on every end of the spectrum. My heart aches, my pride is hurt, my ego has taken a hit, the little girl inside is scared, I'm angry at my failures, right now I'm labeling and sorting. I feel like I've worked so hard to be the opposite of my unemotional parents. I've tried so hard to tone down my anger and mood swings by vocalizing when I'm pissy instead of acting out, by cutting sugar out of my diet (ok truthfully let's say limiting my sugar), and to find out that my behavior yet again had prevented emotional and intimate progress, FUCK! I guess the positive side is that now that it's out in the open I can finally deal with it and move it aside, which is my intention, but a good friend had to break it to me that some other issue will rear it's ugly head in the future, and so on, and so on.....

Send thoughts of hugs my way

Haiku, a cry for help

much vino last night
loud early morning noises
white girl hungover

In the IRS we trust

So I did my taxes this year and I owed. Poopy. I filed a form requesting and installation plan. After two weeks I called to get the status because I hadn't heard anything via mail or phone, (very grown-up) and I was told that my request had been approved, my payments would be $25/mo, first payment due July 25th, but that my first payment needed to be for $43 as a set up fee. I sent my first payment in but forgot it had to be for $43 and sent $25. A week later I sent in a check for $18, cool, I'm caught up. I got a reminder letter today for my July 25th payment. I called and found out that because I sent in the first check so soon, it wasn't applied to my installment plan, but the balance itself. So the system hasn't seen a payment for $25, only $18, and it doesn't recognize partial payments. The woman told me that the computer system is REALLY old, and there is basically no human verification or review of the records. So I have to make a payment of $7 by the 25th to keep my account current, (and that has to be made at an IRS office because the IRS rep said if I mailed a check now it would never post to the account in the next two weeks) and then the $43 payment in August. Oh so efficient, I love it.

Best of CL

Do you pee in the shower????? Cast your vote Female - Sure Female - Gross Male - You bet Male - No Way

I was in a car that got rear ended yesterday. We were stopped at a stop light, and WHAM. It was my friend's 15th car accident, all rear endings. I was in the back seat with my friend's 10 month old. It wasn't terribly hard, no major injuries, but more than physical stress, it's really screwed with my chi. Seriously, I've been on the verge of tears since it happened and I'm in a funky haze. I'm just rattled, lethargic. Sure hope I bounce back soon, I'm supposed to fly to Chicago for D's sister's wedding on Friday. Please send happy healing thoughts my way.

Vroom Vroom

My Honey's got himself a new classy auto! Now all I need is a scarf and some really large sunglasses.

Eve's Conversation with God

"Lord, I have a problem."

"What's the problem, Eve?"

"I know that you created me and provided this beautiful garden and all of these wonderful animals, as well as that hilarious comedic snake, but I'm just not happy."

"And why is that Eve?"

"Lord, I am lonely, and I'm sick to death of apples."

"Well, Eve, in that case, I have a solution. I shall create a man for you."

"Man? What is that Lord?"

"A flawed creature, with many bad traits. He'll lie, cheat and be vain; all in all, he'll give you a hard time. But he'll be bigger, faster and will like to hunt and kill things. I'll create him in such a way that he will satisfy your physical needs. He will be witless and will revel in childish things like fighting and kicking a ball about. He won't be as smart as you, so he will also need your advice to think properly."

"Sounds great," says Eve, with ironically raised eyebrows, "but what's the catch Lord?"

"Well.....you can have him on one condition."

"And what's that Lord? "

"As I said, he'll be proud, arrogant and self-admiring..... so you'll have to let him believe that I made him first. And it will have to be our little secret........ you know, woman to woman."

What happens now?

testing, testing

Miss Perfect Martha Stewart gets busted for insider dealing and now THIS. Nothing’s sadder than a public fugure falling victim to ironic misfortune. Maybe KITT had a built in breathalyzer back in the day.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!!!

Funny Ha Ha

A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird's mouth was rude, obnoxious, and laced with profanity. John tried and tried to change the bird's attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music, and anything else he could think of to "clean up" the bird's vocabulary.

Finally, John was fed up, and he yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. John shook the parrot, and the parrot got angrier and even ruder. John, in desperation, threw up his hands, grabbed the bird, and put him in the freezer. For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then suddenly there was total quiet. Not a peep was heard for over a minute. Fearing that he'd hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer.

The parrot calmly stepped out onto John's outstretched arms and said "I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I'm sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior." John was stunned at the change in the bird's attitude. He was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, when the bird continued, "May I ask what the turkey did?"

Your Majesty's review of The Lord of the Rings. I thought is was epic until the last thirty minutes. Seeing the new King crowned, great! Big hugs from Liv Tyler, yipee! But a half an hour of sobbing hobbits?! No more misty eyes PLEASE! Why don't Frodo and Sam just do it and get it over with?! But overall an amazingly engaging experience.

WTF mate?

If you haven't already subscribed to SF Gate's Morning Fix written by the AMAZING Mark Morford, do so now! The best part of yesterday's article:

Note to scrunchy parents: I'd be far, far more worried about what, say, Kraft is selling to your kids in all those millions of boxes of toxic and openly poisonous Kraft Lunchables than about some quasi-sexy yuppie-fashion catalog they never even see. But that's just me.

Amen brother. Parents are woried about their children seeing what people look like naturally, doing something that is natural, but don't give a second thought to packin' 'em a sandwich made with green ketchup for lunch mummy dear.

Seen sewn on a pillow: "A man's home is his castle until the Queen returns"!

Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you to my generous Aunt and my amazing friends who've been loaning me money, inviting me over for dinner and treating me to lunches. Your Majesty appreciates every meal of kindness that's warmed my tummy and every poor little white girl donation. I never thought I'd be here financially, but I have angels around me who aren't letting me hit bottom. I'm thanking my lucky stars for my tribe right now!

From KML. I Lo-lo-LOVE the Strindberg skits. International Language had me snorting too. From laughing. Not from cocaine.

A fantastic test for my generation. I got a really high score. Yes, MTV was my babysitter, my mentor, my inspiration.

Getting to know you.....

I stayed at D's last night, and when I went home this morning to shower and change, I was thinking about this annoying situation I'm dealing with right now, so I dabbed a little patchouli on my wrists as aromatherapy. Now most people I know can't stand "that fucking hippie smell", but I like the earthy scent on me, it's really grounding for me. Later on I was sounding off thoughts about this situation to D and I asked him if he's learned anything about me from watching me deal with this hairy situation. I know I've learned a lot about people by observing how they handle riffs, especially with people they were once close to. D joked, "Yeah, I've learned that when you're upset you go home and put stinky patchouli on"!

My web hosting stats show that I have a faithful reader in Seychelles. Please drop me an email and tell me a little bit about yourself and how you stumbled across My Greatness from a far corner of the globe.

I went to hear Brian Eno speak about The Long Now at Ft. Mason last night. I'm such a sucker for visionary social movements. It's so true though, that our current culture isn't really concerned with making an impact beyond next week, or ambitiously, next year. Brian mentioned the beginnings of a book of 250 projects that we can embark on now to help the future 10,000 years from now. The format would be an 'issue' per page, with the issue/problem/concern listed at the top, a paragraph on the big picture of what ideally should happen, a paragraph of what we as individuals can do to start making progress, and then links to books and websites at the bottom. It's true that we cannot imagine the types of issues we'll be facing so far from now, but in taking action to remedy problems of today, we're making progress yeh? And this is totally my vision, but perhaps we'll evolve into a socitey of less self-absorbed, narrow minded beings. A girl can dream can't she? You can bet I'll be there the second Friday of every month to hear the featured speaker. Drop me an email if you want to go!

1and1 web hosting is offering FREE hosting for a year with easy transfer from your current hoster that you're not happy with otherwise why would you switch.

The Vamps are Champs!!

I was Anita Lay, part of the crowd pleasing Roller Derby Team mentioned in the article. Of course I spent most of the night with my skates slung over my shoulder because I SUCK at roller skating, but I just told people that the REF through me out of the game because of excessive force. Pat MyAss showed up at half-time, and despite her lack of uniform still joined in huddles and pretended to clothesline teammates Amanda Love, and Fonda Dicks. My personal highlight of the night was crashing against a restaurant window while diners inside squealed with excitement as we engaged in a faux knock-down drag out pile-up. The REF hurried over and blew his whistle, but before he could make a call, he lost his balance and found himself kissing the sidewalk.

I don't know how in the HELL I flew down hills and around corners on skates as a kid. My excuse, er....um reasoning for my poor dispay of roller coordination, is that the wheels on the skates were too loose. I'll have to remember the skate key next time!

Just had to share!

This has been an amazing day for good news. The first call of good news I got this moring was from my sweet grandmother in Illinois. The doctor that se sees for epilepsy is retiring and she's been having a terrible time getting someone to refer her to a new one. For the last two weeks I myself have been making calls from here on on her behalf with little progress. She called this morning to say she got a call from a counselor who has helped her in the past and is more than willing to assist her in finding a new doctor. What a relief. Later my friend Amy called to say she was going to be able to make it to the premimre of 24 tonight, she's great company, I was hoping she could make it. Then I got a call from a hospital in Va saying that they eventaully did find records that I'm trying to locate from my kidney surgery when I was 12 years-old. When I called the other day, I wasn't in their data base at all and I was beginning to worry. After that I got an email regarding some production work that was scheduled for late Oct. I thought maybe it had been cancelled since I hadn't heard back from my emails, but thankfully it's just been postponed so hopefully I 'll be making some money soon. THEN, I got the call officially offering me the aprtment I wanted in Piedmont! I hope everyone else is having a super day as well!

'Tis the Season to be Rockin'!

I saw a commercial for this album when I was housesitting for a friend and at first I thought it was a mock ad because I was watching The Comedy Channel. Nope, it's real, so let's have some fun shall we?

Your Majesty says nothing brings about Good Will towards all men and women during the holidays like the thunder of an electric guitar. Who wouldn't feel warm and fuzzy listening to 'O Holy Night' in the style of Poison or Skid Row? Click on 'multimedia' and take a listen.

from the website:

Trans-Siberian Orchestra was formed in 1996 by Paul O'Neill who immediately approached long time friends and collaborators Robert Kinkel and Jon Oliva to form the core of the writing team.
While producing and writing for a number of years with various rock groups Paul was always looking for ways to make the music have greater and greater emotional impact. He tried to write the music that was so melodic it didn't need lyrics. And lyrics that were so poetic that they didn't need music but once you put the two of them together, the sum of the parts would be greater than the whole, and you couldn't imagine them apart. Once he'd done this, he was still looking for a way to take it to even greater heights and he realized that putting the songs within the context of a story would give it a third dimension that would make that additional emotional impact possible.

QR
Wow, that's deep man. Sounds like the writer of this nauseating bio may have been a little too close to the Humboldt County Christmas trees if you know what I mean.

Hence, he started writing not just albums, but rock operas.

QR
Who in the hell uses HENCE anymore????

He realized then, that there was an inherent problem recording rock operas within the standard rock and roll band makeup. Rock operas by their nature need the voices to change as the characters change. Rock bands normally only have one (or if you're lucky) two great vocalists to work with, therefore limiting how far you can go. You're forced to make the music fit the band, as opposed to allowing the music to go wherever it needs to.

QR
More likely he realized that rock operas are so 25 years ago! I love rock operas, don't get me wrong, but it's going to take a killer movement to bring the rock opera back and these pussies just 'aint it.


With Trans-Siberian Orchestra, first the music is created with no artificial limitations, and then we seek out within the classical, rock, Broadway and R & B worlds, the very best singers and musicians to bring each song to life. This also in many ways forces us to operate on a higher level. This environment has the additional benefit of causing a cross pollenization of musical ideas, creating hybrid forms of music that normally never would have occurred, such as an R&B singer doing a classical style melody and bringing gospel touches to it that causes it to glitter in ways that even the creators could not have predicted. Another very important aspect in the creation of the band, is that there could be no limits on the members; we mix all races and ages.

QR
Any performer they brought in would force them to operate on a higher level because they are the bottom dwellers in the world of music. Cross pollenization? Hybrid? We're supposed to be talking about "emotional" music here fellas not a scientific day in the life of flowers and insects for crying out loud. And who is this person to say that an R&B singer adding gospel touches is something that wouldn't normally have occured? Has this person never heard a black man/woman sing?

The young get to mine the experience of the old musicians, while they can't help to be inspired by the enthusiasm of people just entering the business. This has created a vast constantly changing musical group that even we do not know what it is going to do next.

Once when asked what Trans-Siberian Orchestra was about, Paul O'Neill replied, "It's about creating great art. When asked to define what great art was, Paul said, "The purpose of art is to create an emotional response in the person that is exposed to that art. And there are three categories of art; bad art, good art and great art. Bad art will elicit no emotional response in the person that is exposed to it, i.e.; a song you hear in an elevator and it does nothing to you, a picture on a wall that gives you the same emotional response as if the wall had been blank, a movie that chews up time. Good art will make you feel an emotion that you have felt before; you see a picture of a forest and you remember the last time you went fishing with your dad, you hear a song about love and you remember the last time you were in love. Great art will make you feel an emotion you have never felt before; seeing the pieta, the world famous sculpture by Michelangelo, can cause someone to feel the pain of losing a child even if they've never had one. And when you're trying for these emotions the easiest one to trigger is anger.

QR
Finally a point I can agree with. The bad, the good, and the great. We can all testify we've been touched by a piece of music without words that makes us giddy or conjures nostalgia. But why, oh why, did this man have to insinuate that his band is trying to make an impact that of Michealangelo? And what scary tangent is about to come out of the last statement "And when you're trying for these emotions the easiest one to trigger is anger"?

Anyone can do it. Go into the street, throw a rock at someone, you will make them angry. The emotions of love, empathy and laughter are much harder to trigger, but since they operate on a deeper level, they bring a much greater reward.

QR
I guess there's bound to be some underlying hostility when you're immersed in the world of heavy metal eh? I mean, that's what makes kids do bad things right?


I don't know why I chose to give these guys such a hard time, it's just too easy. Watch, this time next year I'll be singing the praises of the TSO and justice will be served.

Get Out Of Jail Free

Last week I opened a letter from the Treasury Dept. telling me that they're disputing my 2001 Federal tax return. Apparently I claimed $37,000 and my employer (ironically I'm going to start temping for the scum sucking bottom feeders this week so I won't completely bite the hand that feeds me) claimed that I made $52,000. This created a balance of $2,525 that I was to owe to Uncle Sam. Plus I had missed the cut-off date to call or mail for an appeal by a long, long time. This letter came on a day when I couldn't be more pessimistic about my financial and house hunting situation. PMS had a strangle hold on my emotions and I just knew this was punishment for something. But to my surprise when I called and spoke to Cliff, he informed me that it was the employer's error. They had changed payroll services in the middle of the year and both payroll companies reported the earnings. Cliff said it was my lucky day. Cliff has no idea how right he was!

I love BOOBAH!!

Metrosexuals Come Out

June 22, 2003
By WARREN ST. JOHN


BY his own admission, 30-year-old Karru Martinson is not
what you'd call a manly man. He uses a $40 face cream,
wears Bruno Magli shoes and custom-tailored shirts. His
hair is always just so, thanks to three brands of shampoo
and the precise application of three hair grooming
products: Textureline Smoothing Serum, got2b styling glue
and Suave Rave hairspray.

Mr. Martinson likes wine bars and enjoys shopping with his
gal pals, who have come to trust his eye for color, his
knack for seeing when a bag clashes with an outfit, and his
understanding of why some women have 47 pairs of black
shoes. ("Because they can!" he said.) He said his guy
friends have long thought his consumer and grooming habits
a little . . . different. But Mr. Martinson, who lives in
Manhattan and works in finance, said he's not that
different.

"From a personal perspective there was never any doubt what
my sexual orientation was," he said. "I'm straight as an
arrow."

So it was with a mixture of relief and mild embarrassment
that Mr. Martinson was recently asked by a friend in
marketing to be part of a focus group of "metrosexuals" -
straight urban men willing, even eager, to embrace their
feminine sides.

Convinced that these open-minded young men hold the secrets
of tomorrow's consumer trends, the advertising giant Euro
RSCG, with 233 offices worldwide, wanted to better
understand their buying habits. So in a private room at the
Manhattan restaurant Eleven Madison Park recently, Mr.
Martinson answered the marketers' questions and schmoozed
with 11 like-minded straight guys who were into Diesel
jeans, interior design, yoga and Mini Coopers, and who
would never think of ordering a vodka tonic without
specifying Grey Goose or Ketel One.

Before the focus group met, Mr. Martinson said he was
suspicious that such a thing as a metrosexual existed.
Afterward, he said, "I'm fully aware that I have those
characteristics."

America may be on the verge of a metrosexual moment. On
July 15, Bravo will present a makeover show, "Queer Eye for
the Straight Guy," in which a team of five gay men
"transform a style-deficient and culture-deprived straight
man from drab to fab," according to the network. Condé Nast
is developing a shopping magazine for men, modeled after
Lucky, its successful women's magazine, which is largely a
text-free catalog of clothes and shoes.

There is no end to the curious new vanity products for
young men, from a Maxim-magazine-branded hair coloring
system to Axe, Unilever's all-over body deodorant for guys.
And men are going in for self-improvement strategies
traditionally associated with women. For example, the
number of plastic surgery procedures on men in the United
States has increased threefold since 1997, to 807,000,
according to the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic
Surgery.

"Their heightened sense of aesthetics is very, very
pronounced," Marian Salzman, chief strategy officer at Euro
RSCG, who organized the gathering at Eleven Madison Park,
said of metrosexuals. "They're the style makers. It doesn't
mean your average Joe American is going to copy everything
they do," she added. "But unless you study these guys you
don't know where Joe American is heading."

Paradoxically, the term metrosexual, which is now being
embraced by marketers, was coined in the mid-90's to mock
everything marketers stand for. The gay writer Mark Simpson
used the word to satirize what he saw as consumerism's toll
on traditional masculinity. Men didn't go to shopping
malls, buy glossy magazines or load up on grooming
products, Mr. Simpson argued, so consumer culture promoted
the idea of a sensitive guy - who went to malls, bought
magazines and spent freely to improve his personal
appearance.

Within a few years, the term was picked up by British
advertisers and newspapers. In 2001, Britain's Channel Four
brought out a show about sensitive guys called
value="263884">"Metrosexuality." And in
recent years the European media found a metrosexual icon in
David Beckham, the English soccer star, who paints his
fingernails, braids his hair and poses for gay magazines,
all while maintaining a manly profile on the pitch. Along
with terms like "PoMosexual," `just gay enough" and
"flaming heterosexuals," the word metrosexual is now
gaining currency among American marketers who are fumbling
for a term to describe this new type of feminized man.

America has a long tradition of sensitive guys. Alan Alda,
John Lennon, even Al Gore all heard the arguments of the
feminist movement and empathized. Likewise, there's a
history of dashing men like Cary Grant and Humphrey Bogart
who managed to affect a personal style with plenty of hair
goop but without compromising their virility. Even Harrison
Ford, whose favorite accessory was once a hammer, now poses
proudly wearing an earring.

But what separates the modern-day metrosexual from his
touchy-feely forebears is a care-free attitude toward the
inevitable suspicion that a man who dresses well, has good
manners, understands thread counts or has opinions on
women's fashion is gay.

"If someone's going to judge me on what kind of moisturizer
I have on my shelf, whatever," said Marc d'Avignon, 28, a
graduate student living in the East Village, who describes
himself as "horrendously addicted to Diesel jeans" and
living amid a chemistry lab's worth of Kiehl's lotions.

"It doesn't bother me at all. Call it homosexual, feminine,
hip, not hip - I don't care. I like drawing from all sorts
of sources to create my own persona."

While some metrosexuals may simply be indulging in pursuits
they had avoided for fear of being suspected as gay - like
getting a pedicure or wearing brighter colors - others
consciously appropriate tropes of gay culture the way white
suburban teenagers have long cribbed from hip-hop culture,
as a way of distinguishing themselves from the pack. Having
others question their sexuality is all part of the game.

"Wanting them to wonder and having them wonder is a
wonderful thing," said Daniel Peres, the editor in chief of
Details, a kind of metrosexual bible. "It gives you an air
of mystery: could he be? It makes you stand out."

Standing out requires staying on top of which products are
hip and which are not. Marketers refer to such
style-obsessed shoppers as prosumers, or urban influentials
- educated customers who are picky or just vain enough to
spend more money or to make an extra effort in pursuit of
their personal look. A man who wants to buy Clinique for
Men, for example, has to want the stuff so badly that he
will walk up to the women's cosmetics counter in a
department store, where Clinique for Men is sold. A man who
wants Diesel jeans has to be willing to pay $135 a pair. A
man who insists on Grey Goose has to get comfortable with
paying $14 for a martini.

"The guy who drinks Grey Goose is willing to pay extra,"
said Lee Einsidler, executive vice president of Sydney
Frank Importing, which owns Grey Goose. "He does it in all
things in his life. He doesn't buy green beans, he buys
haricots verts."

Other retailers hope to entice the man on the fence to get
in touch with his metrosexual side. Oliver Sweatman, the
chief executive of Sharps, a new line of grooming products
aimed at young urban men, said that to lure manly men to
buy his new-age shaving gels - which contain Roman
chamomile, gotu kola and green tea - the packaging is a
careful mixture of old and new imagery. The fonts recall
the masculinity of an old barber shop, but a funny picture
of a goat on the label implies, he said, something out of
the ordinary.

In an effort to out closeted metrosexuals, Ms. Salzman and
her marketing team at Euro RSCG are working at perfecting
polling methods that will identify "metrosexual markers."
One, she noted, is that metrosexuals like telling their
friends about their new finds.

Mr. Martinson, the Bruno Magli-wearing metrosexual, agreed.
"I'm not in marketing," he said, "But when you take a step
back, and say, `Hey, I e-mailed my friends about a great
vodka or a great Off Broadway show,' in essence I am a
marketer and I'm doing it for free."

Most metrosexuals, though, see their approach to life as
serving their own interests in the most important marketing
contest of all: the battle for babes. Their pitch to women:
you're getting the best of both worlds.

Some women seem to buy it. Alycia Oaklander, a 29-year-old
fashion publicist from Manhattan, fell for John Kilpatrick,
a Washington Redskins season ticket holder who loves
Budweiser and grilling hot dogs, in part because of his
passion for shopping and women's fashion shows. On their
first dates, Mr. Kilpatrick brought Champagne, cooked
elaborate meals and talked the talk about Ms. Oaklander's
shoes. They were married yesterday.

"He loves sports and all the guy stuff," Ms. Oaklander
said. "But on the other hand he loves to cook and he loves
design. It balances out."

The proliferation of metrosexuals is even having an impact
in gay circles. Peter Paige, a gay actor who plays the
character Emmett on the Showtime series "Queer as Folk,"
frequently complains in interviews that he's having a
harder time than ever telling straight men from gays.

"They're all low-slung jeans and working out with six packs
and more hair product than I've ever used in my life, and
they smell better than your mother on Easter," he said. Mr.
Paige said there was at least one significant difference
between hitting on metrosexuals and their less evolved
predecessors. "Before, you used to get punched," he said.
"Now it's all, `Gee thanks, I'm straight but I'm really
flattered.' "

There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright.........

Sunday afternoon my honey was driving me through Glenview so that I could jot down phone numbers of apartments for rent when we heard a rumbling from the back of the car. We had blown a tire, so D called Geico at about 3:15 and they asuured us that someone would be out within 45 minutes. I decided to make good use of the time by calling and inquiring about a few apartments I'd noted earlier. At 4:15 D called again and they told us that they would page the driver and the driver would get back to us within 10 minutes. At 4:30 D called back and they informed us that the driver was new and had gotten lost, she was now in Berkeley instead of Oakland. For the next hour D called about every 15 minutes to let them know that we STILL had not been taken care of and they kept telling him that someone would be contacting him shortly although no one ever did. We tried to pass the time with a smile by playing word association games, watching and giggling as at least six 'scavengers' drove into the posh neighborhood and rifled through the discarded house goods left on the curb, and walking up and down the block. By 5:30 we couldn't muster anymore silver lining. I had to pee really bad, the sun was going down and it was getting chilly, we were hungry, we started to bug each other, I voiced my frustration that we couldn't take care of the tire ourselves in the first place, D voiced the explanation that the jack that came with the car is too flimsy and the necessary jack is too heavy for him to lug around in the rust lined trunk......and then Geico told us that they were going to dispatch another towing company and they assured us AGAIN that someone would be with us within 45 minutes. We found out that their dispatch offices are in Texas and Georgia, and it's from there that they contact local towing companies, all the way in California, and try to navigate them to where help is needed. At 6:45 our savior made his way up the hill to the rescue. It took Fernando of Chevron towing in Oakland approximately 6 minutes to have us repaired and ready to head home. We left laughing and shook it off because at least it was a gorgeous sunny day, it was a very well kept neighborhood, and it was quality time together. Awwwww.

MY favorite part are the "six FREE birth announcements'.

Dear soon to be seriously concerned and completely freaked out friends and family:
Please join me in celebrating the arrival of my exorbitantly deranged purchase as an attempt to fill the void in my pathetic mid-west housewife life. Yes, little Emily is just one of Fed-Ex's little miracles, and thanks to the generosity of the Ashton-Drake Galleries, if Emily doesn't make me the envy of all my backwoods neighbors, if I find that staying in and dusting Emily cuts into my Bingo Hall time, or for any other asinine reason, I have 365 days to return her for a full 100% refund, INCLUDING SHIPPING!

All my best,
Call Me Crazy


Thanks a million for the fodder Pacifica Mama!

You can tell a lot about someone by what they carry in their pockets, handbag, or backpack. What does it say when your boyfriend withdrawls from his computer bag a white satin bra, a sealed plastic disposable speculum, and a paperback copy of Inga Muscio's CUNT?

Ciao Dolce!

Another piece of news from this Summer, even more astounding than the boyfriend factor, Your Majesty ended her love affair with sugar. I'll give you a moment to read that again to confirm 'yes you read that right'. I swear to god it was like coming off of crack. Those of you who know me well have seen me comsume an entire dozen doughnuts for b-fast, you know that I sprinkled sugar on any pasta dish with red sauce, and you can testify that a pint of ice cream was a 'little something' to tide me over . Those of you who don't know me as well missed witnessing me emptying sugar packets straight into my mouth when you used the restroom, and you probably didn't realize that EVERY time you saw me I was with confection or candybar in hand. Years ago I was told I had reactive hypoglycemia, the sweet poison's hold was deep, deeper than a doctor report predicting future life threatening illness. So two months ago I decided that just because I was used to the emotional rollercoaster, it didn't make it right. I started by not giving in to every craving for excess and processed sugar like alcohol, cookies, creme brulee, rice krispy treats, all the usual bait that used to lure me in. I was unbearable for weeks. I shook, I was frazzled, and I was blue. But as with anything you're distancing yourself from, time is the greatest healer. I went to Whales for a ten day Vipassana where there was no sugar added to our meals and honey was our only option for sweetening tea. At first I didn't use more than a dollop a day, and by the seventh day I wasn't using at all. For the next couple of weeks I found myself saying that I needed something sweet after a meal but the truth was I didn't, it was just a habit of saying it. Today, I can walk into a candy store and not leave a puddle of drool at the counter. I can pass a Dunkin Donuts without leaving nose prints on the front window. I'm allowing myself sweet treats about once a week and natural sugars are okay in moderation, and now because my body is more in balance, I can't have more than a bite or two before my teeth ache. I read labels and you would cringe to know how much sugar main stream food and beverages contain. I won't get on my soap box unless you ask me to, but just know I love all of my friends and family and I strongly suggest at least reading some books on it or do a little net surfing on the dangers.

Vrey Inetrsetnig!

Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

Back to Reality

Well I'm back in the Bay Area, San Pablo Ave. in Berkeley to be exact. I've decided to make the East Bay my home this go 'round because it's closer to my boyfriend (yeah that's right, I can say that all casual like now), cheaper, and more residential feeling. Can we say nesting? I've been stressing over the job, house, car search. I feel ungrateful saying this but, although it's seems exciting, it's really exhausting. Luckily I have the best boyfriend in the universe. I'm staying with him until I get my ducks in a row and he's spoiling me rotten. I arrived to brand new, uber thick and fluffy Restoration Hardware bath towels that I mentioned I loved using at his Mother's house. He's been taking me around to look at apartments for rent and cars for sale, AND he's been during my pre-menstrual readjusting phase. I should call him Saint D. I know everything will fall into place, I just put too much pressure on myself and I don't want to wear out my welcome. Obviously I have a Summers worth of adventures to post here, but I must compose a resume right now. I'll be posting on a regular basis again so I look forward to my web stats rising once again!

Religious Humor

So to summarize.......

"I'd have to say that I've discovered I'm more of a vacationer than a traveler really". - Reese Williams

A Tip From Me To You

Never blow a big bubblegum bubble while riding your bike in the summer; acts like flypaper.

All You Need To Know About Amsterdam

Cyclists rule the roads.

A coffeeshop is where you smoke weed or hash, a cafe is where you go to get drunk and a bar is where you meet for conversation and tea/cocktails etc.

Always scan the ground as you walk for dog shit.

The streets change names about every block.

INSPIRED is living amongst artists and finally trying my hand at it. I bought a 49euro Van Gough acrylic paint set, and spent almost a week naked, listening to a Harry Potter book on tape, playing with brushes, tubes and cups of water. I had a blast.

FILTHY is a bathroom so vile, you don't even want to poo in it. I know it's a strange posting for my first in almost a month, and you may have been hoping for tales of adventure and pix of far off places, but believe me, where I'm living right now is very, very off.

Ciao from Venice! I only have a minute but I wanted to drop a quick post to say this city is BELLA!!!! I had no idea it's actually 117 tiny islands. My favorite art is glass art so I'm in heaven right now! I just saw a pizza with cut up hot dogs and french fries on it. It's hot as hell but I love it. The gellato is divine. We're staying in a sweet farmhouse in the middle of a vineyard, it's too cute. I discovered Italy has fireflies! Milan was great for shopping but very smelly. Gotta run!

Highlights

A couple of weeks ago while on Kauai

Progress Report

I got my first sand rash from bodysurfing yesterday morning. The waves can't be more than waist high but it's fun to say "Dude I totally got thrashed in the surf today". It's hard to believe I've only been here two weeks; the pace is so slow that if I didn't have a calendar I'd swear it's been months. Where else do counter people take lengthy phone calls or balance their checkbook while waiting on you, it a riot. Hostel living isn't what I imagined at all. I thought everyone would just kept to themselves, or there would be polite chat in the common areas, but it's like a dorm. One friend I made there said it's like a soap opera meets Survivor. It's so true. Who's sleeping in who's bunk, who's making all the noise late at night and early in the morning, who's hanging out getting pissed and stoned in the common area, too funny. I've met several cool people from the Bay Area, wave chasers, drifters, planned travelers, they're all here. I had a balancing didjeridoo massage a couple of days ago, really opened up my voice and crown energy, I've been in planning mode for rwo weeks. I didn't embark on my travels to find myself, I wanted to experience other cultures (I know Hawaii is still the US people but it was a very nice jumping off point don't you think) and I'm finding traveling alone is tough, especially as a woman. I feel alienated being surrounded day in and day out by people who I can't trust, who I don't have inside jokes with, who I can't hug. I'll be with D in Europe soon though and there'll be plenty of hugging going on there, IF you know what I mean, heh heh! And don't even get me started with the affairs of my heart. I never in a million years could have guessed that I would leave paradise after only a few weeks to spend seven solid weeks with my new love interest. Guess that's the beauty of my journey, the unknown. Of course when I'm pre-menstrual like I am this week, uncertainty is my nemesis.

Having trouble uploading pix here today, I'll try again tomorrow.

Your Majesty has run into a wee bit of writer's block in paradise. I've posted pix on my photos page for all to view heaven on earth. I stayed in a ridiculously big vacation rental with eight fun peeps last week, and I've been at The Kapa'a Beach House hostel since they left. Well, actually I stayed two nights at a skeezy Hostel International for two nights until I joined forces with an Iranian wave chaser named Ali. Now we bunk at The Beach House which is really more like a tree house! I've climbed behind water falls, viewed "The Grand Canyon of the Pacific", tried snorkeling, I get to shower outside in the sun or under the stars, I eat mangos and papayas for b-fast, this is living my friends. All the radio staions play popular songs, but re-done by Hawaiians. The island has a very small town feel and everyone knows everything about everyone and I'm the talk of the town being that I'm a girl and the men outnumber the women five to one. Sorry locals, my heart is in Berkeley.
I'm leaving in the next week or so to meet my favorite man in Europe. We'll be in Milan for two weeks and Berlin for four weeks. We're hoping to check out Copenhagen (for Legoland) and Greece while we're there. I don't know my plans after that but I'd like to get to Amsterdam and New Zealand.
Wish I could go into more detail but the internet cafe isn't cheap. Until next time this is your ruler saying Aloha and Mahalo!

Kauai Baby!

My lack of posting is not due to a lack of material, believe me! Here's a link to some pictures from my first week taken by a friend to tide you over until I can get my laptop to the internet cafe and upload mine. Mahalo and much love to my eight amazing friends who were the perfect transition into a new phase of life for me!

Forgive me readers for I have sinned. It's been eleven days since my last posting. I have been insanely busy packing, coordinating, and canoodling with a man. Murphy's Law that I'd discover someone I adore just two weeks before I depart into the unknown. Actually, I should feel enriched for having the fortune of spending time with such a wonderful spirit. I leave Friday morning, but rest assured I'll be posting from internet cafes when possible. Blessed Be to the enchanted San Francisco. Until next time.....

Here's Robert's take on our L.A. adventure. Ah the memories!

I don't celebrate Easter, but I did miss not getting a basket this year. My roomie sent me this link today, it's better than any basket I could've received!

Perfection Surprise

I have several scenarios in my head of what would make for a perfect day, but Friday proved to be unexpectedly sublime. I went down to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk with my roomie and a friend of his who was visiting from Mexico. We rode nauseating rides, ate greasy carnival food, played in the arcade until we had accumulated 550 tickets (which we gave to a little boy because none of the prizes interested us), and got fake tattoos. We got home around 6pm and started getting ready for The Faint at the Fillmore. They were outstanding! The sound was clear, and the crowd was colorful and energetic. After the show we ventured out to the steamy atmosphere of The Hustler Club where I received my first, second, and third lapdance. Most of the girls were bland but two were remarkable. Check out Lexie and Madison next time you're there, these smokin' little ladies wiggle like nobody's biz.

Believe It or Not!

Sunday afternoon yours truly was playing in 9 FEET of water. My sweet, patient, caring friend took me out to Strawberry Canyon Rec Center in Berkeley and spent 90 minutes in a pool with my freaky, water phobic ass. I learned how to move my legs better while swimming, I was more relaxed in treading water, AND I put my head under water without holding my nose. I'm still need lots of work on the whole holding my breath and blowing out through my nose stuff, but I am really proud of my little advancement. Next item on my packing list; a snorkel set!

High Schoolesque Adventure

I went down to L.A. this weekend to see a friend of a friend’s band perform at the Hard Rock Café. I felt like a teenager again, piling in a van to go see a local band, mixing my booze with a bottled beverage, sneaking around a neighborhood at four in the morning, and lots, and lots, and lots of laughs!

Her Majesty’s Top 10 From Kiss the Girl in L.A.

#10 Being a Trendsetter
Saturday I was severely sleep deprived, but decided to stay and extra day for the spontaneous adventure. I left the hotel for brunch while in my jammies, and later on visited the Getty Museum and had dinner still in my jammies. Don't be surprised when this new trend goes global.

#9 Our Moving Violation
You find ways of amusing yourself on a six-hour road trip. While the Beastie Boys were blasting, the boys in the van started head banging, which escalated into slamming into each other, and from there became bodies leaping over seats, bodies being pushed over seats, choke holds, and multiple middle fingers aimed at the video camera.

#8 Getting Back to Basics
In an effort to keep weekend costs to a minimum, my friend and I bought a fifth of tequila and walked around a neighborhood close to the venue, mixing the hooch with lemon-lime mineral water rather than buying over-priced cocktails at the bar. I had flashbacks of sneaking out of my room in tenth grade and drinking Southern Comfort at the bus stop.

#7 The Desperate Dressing Room Impromptu
We ran into traffic on the way in to L.A. so we were denied the luxury of stopping by the hotel before the show to get beautiful. In overalls with a dew rag on my head, this white girl needed to primp! My friend and I popped in to the bathroom of the near by Bed Bath and Beyond and spent about an hour styling our hair, painting our faces, and selecting our wardrobe. Can we now add resourceful to our resumes?

#6 The Heartfelt Offer
A guy at Hard Rock was wearing a t-shirt that read “I’ll do what your last boyfriend wouldn’t”. My tipsy self scrambled over and whispered what my last boyfriend, The Brit’s, objection was. He offered to take me to his truck, and later offered his brother’s services as well. I declined but thanked him for the sentiment.

#5 Sign of the Times
We stopped at a Foster’s Freeze on the way home and although our frozen treats were sugary satisfaction, the mood of the van was left sour after seeing the flyer that was taped to the drive-through window. It was a promotion for David Coverdale announcing his performance in a Wal*mart parking lot the previous afternoon. To add to the humiliation, under his name in parenthesis they squeezed in (singer of Whitesnake). His manager is the devil!

#4 The Clever Play on Words
We were in the van talking about the stiffness that one gets from too much computer use and someone thought it was called corpol tunnel. Immediately Robert launches into character. He starts shouting with a perfect drill sergeant tone, “I am Corporal Tunnel! I am going to put you in a world of pain! Click the mouse! Repeat! Repeat! Repeat!”

#3 Terrorizing Suburbia
So after the band performed Friday night we went back and partied in the hotel room for a while. Around 3:30 Jack asked if I want to go for a walk and we ended up wandering around a suburban neighborhood in search of something to claim as a souvenir. I was hoping to find a groovy little lawn gnome. The best we could do was a two foot, American flag patterned pin wheel. Over the weekend it made it’s way to the top of our mini van, into the hotel pool, and finally resting in the median about a block away from it's original yard.

#2 The Tuber Puns
On our way home Sunday we stopped in the middle of nowhere for lunch. This place could have just as easily been found in the mid-west. The tabletop surface was covered with pictures of firearms and the waitresses still donned big bangs. After looking at the menu Jamie blurts out that ‘country potatoes’ sounds like a good name for a band. Jack sang, “Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be french fries”. I added in a Southern accent, “Howdy we’re the Country Potatoes. We’re from Idaho and I’m Russ. Join us in welcoming our bassist, he’s new, and never mind our pothead drummer he’s probably baked”. We were howling!

#1 Mobile Directing
The seating arrangement for the ride home was me sitting in the last seat of the van with Jack, Robert in the middle seat with Shawn, Jamie in the passenger seat, and his girlfriend Danielle driving. Robert had a great idea for a skit so we sat the camera on the dashboard facing back, and hit record. It starts with the focus on Jack and I smooching in the back. Seconds later Danielle and Jamie lean in for a quick peck. Shawn and Robert note the little smooch. They then turn around and look at us kissing, and face forward again. Simultaneously Shawn and Robert make eye contact with each other and lean in for a passionate kiss. Robert noted the caption should read 'Kiss the girl ?'

Okay the real #1 is the show of course. Our boys rocked the cafe hard! They had the most fans, the closest to the stage fans, and they're music was simply the best!
Pictures are on your Majesty's photo page and we should have the edited footage of the trip in the near future. Until then this is Your Majesty saying rock out and roll on!

Like, I can't believe the Kelly Osborne concert was cancelled last night. If they cancel Lisa Marie Presley when she comes I'll just die!

I am The Queen of Time Wasters

Request to have the wool removed from over my eyes please.

I should be packing for the big move but instead........

Friendly Concern

In reference to my Hawaii adventure, I was reminded to NOT pick up any Tiki Idols I may find washed ashore. Will DO! The last thing this non-swimmer needs is a water related mishap.

p.s. to "These Are The People"

I was just down at my corner market and the owner told me that the police escorted the junkie out of the laundromat with a heroin filled needle in her arm, and then told her they didn't want to see her around there anymore, as they drove away.

I'm beginning to feel an aching in my solar plexus when I think about not hanging out with my friends on a regular basis. A friend told me last night that I'll feel much better when I'm on the plane, taking off for my adventure. I just need to express how much love I have for my tribe right now. I only hope that I've been as good a friend as I know mine have been for me.

These Are The People In Your Neighborhood.......

You know it's time to move when you're doing your laundry at the local mat and you have to call the police to remove the junkie who's shooting up five feet away from you. This mangy looking woman staggered in and leaned over the garbage can and I thought she was just rummaging through the trash. Several minutes passed and she was still there but her back was to me so I didn't see what she was doing. The owner of the laundromat came in and walked around to where she could see what the druggie was doing, and motioned for me to walk outside. We called the SFPD who arrived about ten minutes later. The silver lining is that neighbors around the mat kept popping in and asking me if I was okay while I pulled my clothes out of the dryer, and asked if I wanted them to wait with me for the police. That's community.

Meow

Between the catty stares from women at a concert last night, and the cat calls from men while out running errands this morning, it's confirmed that stick straight hair suits me well. And now a word from our sponsor. The Farouk Ceramic Hairstyling Iron. Who cares that it costs over a hundred bucks, you'll look like a million! Curls are SO last week.

Bjork's Competition

I finally got to see Sigur Ros last night at the Paramount theatre in Oakland. An opulent venue and a captivating show. I've never sat for an entire music performance yet I was filled with this beautiful vibration that left a permanent grin on my face. I think I sat on the edge of my seat with my chin in my hands for almost the entire set. Those Icelandic men know how to stir the soul!

Satisfying Sunday

Sunday morning I joined my roomie for his interview with Bravo for their new reality series Gay Date. Fifteen men competing for a date with one man. My roomie was the only one who brought his "hag", they got a kick out of that. At one point the interviewer introduced himself as Peter, the guy he was shaking hands with said his name was Paul, and someone shouted out "And we're all Mary'! We ran into a few other gay boys we knew while we were there, it's a small gay world.

For lunch we picked up Brothers In Law barbecue which we've never treated ourselves to, and ate sloppy ribs on our roof deck overlooking the city. We commented that it didn't get any better than this. I was right. I've had digestion issues ever since eating that damn dirty pig!

Sunday afternoon we walked down to El Rio for live Salsa music and kick-ass margaritas. Now it's usually a pretty much gay crowd, but Sunday it sounded like a thousand tires leaking air. There were a surprising amount of fashion blunders this warm and sunny afternoon. One friend commented that he thought as soon as a man sucks dick is tendency to wear bad things went right out the window. We joked that maybe a few didn't stick one in all the way, perhaps they just licked it a little. Here are the top three fashion no-nos.
#3 Fresh off the Yacht - Late forties, very handsome, slick back gray hair, navy blue polo shirt, khaki shorts, and loafers with no socks on! I wanted to call him Biff and ask him where Muffy was.
#2 Hasn't purchased clothes since the early nineties - Late thirties, plain looking, dull blondish hair, a washed entirely too much to be worn in public white t-shirt, denim shorts that hung just a little too far below the knee, and white socks pulled up to his calves with white sneakers. Someone give that man a calendar!
#1 The International Male - Mid-thirties, plain looking, badly dyed blonde hair, a wheat colored sweater vest with only his abnormally overgrown muscles bulging from underneath, jeans and flip-flops. Sweetie, leave the house to buy your clothes from now on!

These are merely observations people. I think hair, make-up and clothes are all free reign because they can be changed. You know that I would never make fun of a fundamental characteristic. Not out loud anyway!

Royal Treatment

Last Friday night I went to a friend's house and he made dinner for me. We gorged ourselves sick on foire gras, cheese and bread, a scrumptuous green salad with seared scallops, pasta with mushrooms, and the sweetest homemade pecan pie this side of the Mississippi. I had a whole PIE made for me, how you like me now?

Smack of Reality

Yesterday I traded my Bose Wave Radio/Cd player and a hundred bucks for a brand new MP3 player. While making the deal I knew it was a good thing, and I was stoked to start ripping cds to the little device. The minute I closed the door behind the guy, I was hit with buyer's remorse. I kept thinking of how the Bose would have been perfect to have in case I did settle somewhere new, and how maybe it wasn't a fair trade. My roomie tried to do the right thing by reassuring me I got a deal. I told him I needed to pout for a while. Moments later it became clear what the real issue was. This was the first tangible sign that I was moving on. I had physically parted with this thing, that at one time, was a hallmark moment for me because I had purchased something of great quality for my new life in the big city four years ago. I cried for about ten minutes. How am I going to say farewell to friends when I can't even bear to let go of a silly cd player? If you're not hurting you're not growing right?
On the positive side, I got a terrific backpack from a friend last night, long-term traveler loan. Thanks Elle!

Did you know that taquitos are "The Quintessential Beefy Stick"? She wasn't even stoned like the rest of us when she said it!

I was watching "Sex Lies and Videotape" yesterday and James Spader's character said that "Men learn to love who they're having sex with and women become more and more attracted to the men that they're in love with". What do you think? I think I must be living my life as a man! Until The Brit a couple of years ago I more often than not dated men I was more physically attracted to than emotionally or romantically. Just recently I was told that I quote movies like a dude. And have you seen the size of my hands and feet?!
No really, I attribute the intense physical draw to part of growing up. Why I've turned away from many strictly physical potentials in recent years because I knew I wanted more. So does that prove once again that men never grow up? Oh no, she went there! Seriously, I am completely aware of the differences between men and women and I embrace them!

Shower Wall Scriptures

"You are what/who you eat"

"I gave the gift of breath to the North bound compass, and it used the pretty ribbon to tie a thousand riddles"

"Try not to use your teeth when you eat my ass"