Agent XXX

Peggy

2007-10-29T14:43:00.001-04:00

My aunt is in hospice loosing an almost ten year battle with cancer. She has fought a brave and courageous fight that makes me believe she is the strongest person I’ve ever known. Cancer is bitch and what it does to its victims is horrific. She has been reduced to a shell of her former brassy loudmouth self. The woman who used to drink Miller Lite from a can and yell at Patriots on Sunday afternoon now can barely lift her own head to drink from a cup of ice water.

If the cancer weren’t enough for her to deal with she has had to keep working up until the time she was to weak to stand for health insurance. She went through rounds of Chemotherapy and radiation all while working 40 hours a week as a nurse in a nursing home because if she didn’t she couldn’t afford to pay her rent.

What kind of society lets this happen to its own hard working citizens?

Making Up

2007-10-18T09:22:00.000-04:00

The past few months have been defend by the arguments I’ve had with family and friends. I am ruled but the god of war in both my son and moon, it’s not that put a lot of stock into astrology but I just saying. Fighting with people isn’t something that I am very proud to say that I have been doing, especially when the arguments have been over things that seem very silly in retrospect.

In March I had a blow out with my friend M, because I called her a hypochondriac. To my mind this wasn’t a big deal. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The argument changed from me saying something that hurt her feelings to me feeling like I am constantly giving her leeway on things that she never affords me. I said what I thought. She thought differently and we ended up not speaking for 7 months.

As they say it’s all water under the bridge now. The hard part for me and what I am trying to learn is how do I not keep creating these types of situations while having my feelings validated. Who do I not let things reach a nuclear level with out being feeling like I was the only one to compromise and give to only get nothing in return?

Regardless of the answer to the question I am very happy to be friends with M again. It’s made my work days a much happier.

The Blog Thing

2007-10-03T08:56:00.001-04:00

This blog has been gnawing at me for the past few months. I am not sure what to do with it. There have been things that have been happened in the past few months that have been worth writing about but I just have been lazy and not wanting to do it. Now I think I am ready to give it another go.

Legislators vote to defeat same-sex marriage ban

2007-06-14T14:00:00.000-04:00

By Frank Phillips, Globe Staff

A proposed constitutional ban on same-sex marriage was defeated today by a joint session of the Legislature by a vote of 45 to 151, eliminating any chance of getting it on the ballot in November 2008. At least 50 votes were needed to advance the measure.

The vote came after House Speaker Salvatore F. DiMasi, Senate President Therese Murray, and Governor Deval Patrick conferred this morning and concluded that they have the votes to kill the proposal.

"In Massachusetts today, the freedom to marry is secure," Patrick told reporters after the vote.

The three leaders - along with gay rights activists - spent the last several days intensely lobbying a dozen or more state representatives and state senators who had previously supported the amendment but signaled that they were open to changing their positions.

Because fewer than 50 of the state's 200 lawmakers supported the amendment, it will not appear on the 2008 ballot, giving gay marriage advocates a major victory in their battle with social conservatives to keep same-sex marriage legal in Massachusetts.

Opponents of gay marriage face an increasingly tough battle to win legislative approval of any future petitions to appear on a statewide ballot. The next election available to them is 2012.

The Gay & Lesbian Advocates & Defenders, the group that spearheaded the court case that led to the Supreme Judicial Court's 2003 decision to legalize same-sex marriage, issued a statement praising the vote.

"We’re proud of our state today, and we applaud the legislature for showing that Massachusetts is strongly behind fairness," said Lee Swislow, executive director Advocates & Defenders. "The vote today was the triumph of time, experience, and understanding over fear and prejudice."

Posted by the Boston Globe City & Region Desk at 01:23 PM

My Sister and a Juliana Hatfield Moment

2007-06-05T10:38:00.001-04:00

Me: “Hey do you have Ma’s work number?”

Her: “Yeah but it’s in my cell phone so I will have to call you back.”

Me: “OK can you just do it as soon as you can because it’s about tickets to Florida.”

Her: (Screaming) “Yeah sure right after I’m done running around taking Gram to the doctor’s and George to hokey.”

“Click!” She hangs up on me.

Now I have this conversation with her about once every six months or so it seems. I call her and ask her a completely benign question only to have her completely blow up at me for bothering her on a day when she has too many commitments, none of which have anything to do with me.

Granted she was having a bad day. My grandmother has a stress fracture in her back. My sister was shuttling her around to doctors appointments, because none of the grandmother’s five children could possibly be bothered living up to there obligations when it comes to my grandmother’s care.

Three days later my sister called me ask me if I was going to my Niece’s dance recital. When we spoke I asked her if I she was going to apologize for hanging up on me three days before. Yeah, it was the wrong thing to say. She told she was having a bad day that if I couldn’t accept the fact that she was having a bad day that it was just too bad for me. And at that moment she was way to busy to be bothered with my selfishness, a story I’ve heard many times before. I went on to say to her all she needed to say was, “I’m sorry I hung up on you. I was having a bad day.”

Her response was, “I’m not doing that!” Then there was more screaming about how she had a bad week. The whole world is against her and how dare I someone with no children ask her to apologize. She was will with in her right to act erratically and I should be the bigger person and just not mention it.

I’ve had enough of this bullshit. We have had fight after fight about her yelling at me for no reason then her expecting me not to say anything when she calls me however many days later and acts nothing ever happened. I am sure there will be more on this issue to come.

Yum Yum I Love to Eat

2007-05-30T16:32:00.000-04:00

The very beautiful and most talented Nicole of Travelingtreefrog.com sent out a shout out of sorts. Actually it was more like hey if you want to do this it would be great if not that fine too. She’s non-confrintaional that way, but lovely none the less.

Five places I love to eat.

Sushi Island, Wakefield, MA

My brother-in-law introduced me to this place about eight or so years ago, while I was living in LA. Whenever I came home to visit we would make a special trip for sushi. One of the most striking things about this restaurant is the number of Japanese people eating there, considering the low number of Asian people living in the area. As I was taught by a former Taiwanese coworker, the best way to gauge the authenticity of an Asian restaurant is the number of Asian people eating in it. It definitely passes that test.

The only draw back to his restaurant is it fairly small. Some nights they offer live jazz musicians for entertainment. If you aren’t feeling the vibe of who ever is playing unfortunately there isn’t a quiet corner to escape the music.

Some of my favorites are the salmon skin roll, agedashi tofu, and tempura green tea ice cream with read bean paste.

Tacos Lupita, Lynn, MA

There is a joke my father used to tell about going into an Italian restaurant. Some where you would find a picture of Frank Sinatra next to the Pope. If the restaurant was authentic the picture of Frank would be just a bit higher on the wall than the picture of the Pope, after all the Pope isn’t Italian. The same can be said for Mexican restaurants having at least one picture of the Virgin de Guadalupe. Tacos Lupita features her on their menu. This place looks like a taquria you’d expect to see downtown LA. I brought a friend from Texas there he said he felt like he stepped into a time warp.

They make an El Pastor taco that is so good I have never had any thing else from their menu. It’s the type of place that when I get ten feet from the front door my mouth starts to water.

Shabu-Zen, Boston MA

Shabu-Zen features Asian fusion hot-pots. It’s one of the hippest restaurants in Boston’s Chinatown and is almost always packed. If you show up after 7:00 pm you can expect a long wait. The feature a very modern design inside with a low bar that runs in a U shape in the middle of the restaurant and a high bar that runs along the side of the room. There are also tables available with a minimum charge of $75.

Hot-pots are a soup that you cook yourself. The standard broth as a miso type flavor to it they also have a kimchi version if like it a bit on the spicy side. Ordering here is a bit like ordering at a sushi bar. You get your individual pot and most of the food comes ala cart, expect for the meats which come with a side of noodles, veggies and a couple types of tofu. The broth in the pot is usually boiling so it cooks the thinly sliced meats very quickly.

I recommend getting the fish paste which is a mixture of ground white fish, scallions, and seasonings. The also have an extensive menu of smoothies and bubble teas. The green tea latte is delicious.

Agave Mexican Bistro Newburyport, MA

Admittedly Agave is a bit “para los gringos”, but I love it just the same. Agave is everything Tacos Lupita is not. You’d be hard press to find a person on the wait staff whose first language was anything other than English and the Virgin is no where to be found, which isn’t all bad because they are surely not going after a home cooked feeling. They are looking to attract that type of people you who love a Norman Rockwell painting perfect New England town which says, “If you aren’t driving a Volvo or a Saab then why are you here?”

First of the redeeming qualities is the salsa which they make themselves. Honestly I have thought of asking the waiter to skip the chips and to just bring me a straw. They also make guacamole fresh at your table which is a crowd pleaser. I also love the mole poblano for an entrée. Most places sever a very watery mole theirs is thick and very rich.

Pho Lynn, MA

When I first moved to LA one of my roommates was from Vietnam. His mother used to cook pho for us all of the time. However I didn’t know what was called until I moved back to MA. Every time I asked what she had cooked my roommate would either tell me, “You know it’s the same old thing” or “you’ll never be able to say it.” He was wrong on both counts.

Pho Lynn is a small restaurant in a transitional area with an annoying tile floor that makes it possible to hear the conversations on the opposite of the restaurant. It’s run by a little Vietnamese who will treat you like she has known you your entire life from the moment you first see her and you’ll fell like you’ve know her that long when she scolds you for not eating all of your vegetables.

The best features of this place are the sauces that the proprietress makes herself. My favorite is a mayonnaise tastes like it is mixed with vinegar and fish sauce. I asked her was in it but she wouldn’t tell me.

Never Good Enough

2007-03-12T17:07:00.000-04:00

Today in the men’s room at my office I walk out of a stall to wash my hands. At the same time a coworker walks away from the urinal to wash his hands. We arrive that sinks at the same time. We start to wash our hands.

When I think I am done I look over at my coworker who must be performing surgery with the way he is washing. He makes me feel guilty. I keep washing after all I did come out of a stall and he was only at that urinal. There is no way I am leaving with him thinking I left the restroom with unclean hands.

I look over at him. He looks at me then down. He scrubs faster. I scrub faster. He gets more soap. I get more soap. This goes on for at least two minutes. My fingers start to prune.

Then I break. I concede and reach for a paper towel. I walk back into the office with a heavy head my hands will never be as clean as his.

Whatever?

2007-01-31T08:59:00.000-05:00

If you are older then 13 you have no right to be saying whatever. Today on a business call talking to a woman who was at least 50, she said "whatever" at least 3 times.

"You know you can just call back or whatever."

Seriouly lady if you can't communitcate above a 7th grade level I won't be calling you back at all.

One Fish, Two Fish

2007-01-17T14:35:00.000-05:00

Cardinal Roger Mahoney is a voice of reason in the Catholic Church. Mahoney created quite a bit of controversy by actually recognizing gay Catholics. His Ministry with Lesbian and Gay Catholics was starting in 1986.

“MLGC has as its primary goal "to foster a spirit of community and fellowship among gay Catholics so that they can offer and receive mutual support in living our their lives of faith with the Church." (Archbishop Roger Mahony, (2-2-86).”

Most of the more liberal Catholic Churches in his archdiocese have gay and lesbian groups. For the 20th anniversary of the group the Cardinal has issued a pin that has combined a rainbow flag with the ancient Christian symbol of a fish.

Needless to say the more conservative wing of the church is very unhappy about this and is screaming to the Vatican to get Mahoney stopped. So far the screams have gone unanswered. Finally there is a high profile person within the church who is willing to put their neck out to help cause change.

A Link to the Los Angeles Archdiocese information about the pins is below.

http://www.archdiocese.la/ministry/mlgc/index.php

Daddy, I Wanna Go Home.

2007-01-16T16:33:00.000-05:00

I have only a small group of friends who I love dearly. Most of my friends are people I have known for years some since childhood. In most cases I know my friends entire families as well. In stark contrast as with most things in our relationship E knows every gay person in greater New England, the Eastern Provinces of Canada, and parts of Toronto.

This means that any time we go out we may be joined by any number of his 30 closest friends. Now, I am learning to be a go with the flow kind of guy which is has been a new experience for me to say the least, but it hasn’t been with out a few bumps in the road. When you break down E’s friends they fall into two categories one he named the “preppy bears” and the other I named the “dirty bears”.

The “preppy bears” are more clean cut, interesting, well informed and interesting. They don’t take the whole bear thing all that seriously and are fun to spend an evening hanging out with. The “dirty bears” are well dirty. The de facto leader of this group is a major thorn in my side who told E he shouldn’t be dating me because he didn’t sleep with enough people in between relationships. I have made a promise to E that I wouldn’t start an argument with the “dirty bear” leader unless I was directly provoked.

The preppy group has an annual group trip to Montreal. This year E has invited me as his guest. Montreal with E sounds like it would be a good time, Montreal with E and 10 of his closest friends all staying in the same guesthouse, not so fun. I don’t want to be the stick in the mud and I want E to have fun with his friends I just have a feeling this is going to turn into one of those whinny five year olds who’s parents are dragging them around Disney World to makes sure they get their moneys worth when the kid would have been just as happy watching the Little Mermaid on DVD for 400th time.

What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Right?

Innocence Mission - Black Sheep Wall

2007-01-11T21:49:00.000-05:00

I Should Know Better

2007-01-11T15:25:00.000-05:00

“I am thinking about going to see Volver tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“The new Pedro Almodovar movie with Penelope Cruz, do you like foreign films?”

“Yeah, I liked Fargo and European Vacation.”

2007

2007-01-08T11:35:00.001-05:00

So we’re here and it’s 2007. I think I am having the beginning of a midlife crisis. Life just isn’t where I would like it be. I’m not sure how to make the changes I need to in order to make it better, but I am going to try.

First on the list is going to cutting out Dunkin Donuts. This is going to be particularly difficult. I know it does nothing but make my middle bigger while clogging my arteries it’s just so hard to get up the extra few minutes to make a proper breakfast. I think what I should do is just stock my office with breakfast food. That should make the transition a bit easier.

Secondly more exercise. I know I have said this before but this time I need to do something. At a doctor’s appointment in November I was diagnosed with pre-hypertension. Not the end of the world but instead of my doctor telling me to loose weight which has been the recommended course of action in the past she put me on medication. After being on the medication for a little less than a moth I stopped taking it. The medicine made me fell like a woman in menopause. All of the sudden my face would get extremely hot, start to sweat, and my heart would race. That isn’t something I’m willing to live with and of course loosing weight is just a good idea in general.

Thirdly, find a new place to live. The suburbs just suck. The only good thing about living in the town I live in is there are better places to bike. These places are only marginally better than places in the city and they are places only a short car ride away for any more urban area.

Forth and final, Cut it down to one job. I just need to find a way to do it. The extra money is nice but it’s slowly killing me. It’s affecting my relationship which isn’t want I want to happen and ultimately it’s not making me happy.

So there you have it some plans for 2007. I am usually not one for resolutions, but maybe I was wrong about that.

Mary Francis Flynn Curley

2006-12-07T14:25:00.001-05:00

Today is my Grandmother’s 80th birthday. It’s amazing to think what she’s seen in her lifetime, the great depression, WWII, all that big hair!! By the time she was my age her life was pretty much set. She was living the house my grandfather built she had 4 of her five children and was just eight years from having her first of her 11 grandchildren.

The best thing about my Grandmother is she isn’t knitting baking type of Granny, she’s a party girl. She is loud, brash, and has a wicked sense of humor and I love every bit of it

Over the summer she and a friend had gone to the local 99 for lunch. The waitress came to take her drink order. My grandmother ordered a 7 and 7. Apparently the waitress wasn’t used to little old ladies drinking whiskey in the middle of the day.

“Don’t you think that will be a little heavy for you?”

Had it been about 10 years ago my Grandmother probably would have backhanded the poor girl in the back of the head like she did to me the day I asked her if she could cook when I was 7. However my Grandmother took the highroad.

“Don’t worry I’ve been doing this for a long time I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”

“Scotty can you imagine her saying that to me? It was after noon for christsakes and it’s not like I was driving. And I don’t mind telling you that girl had a few miles on her.”

Tag, I'm It

2006-12-07T13:16:00.000-05:00

I was tagged for the MEME by The Persian. The rules have something to do with listing 6 things that are weird about you or make you weird to other people. There also something about stating the rules clearly which I am obviously failing to do. I have a cold and don’t feel well so this is as much excitement that I can muster. Jim don’t take it personally.

1. I am obsessed with stray hairs in my eyebrows. If I look up and see an eyebrow hair that is not in place or growing astray I have to either cut it or pluck it immediately.

2. I am really sensitive to sounds. There are certain noises I find so annoying that I will start to have an anxiety attack if I have to listen to them any longer than a minuet. They include a ticking clock, gum being cracked, wheezing, fingernail clippers, and a pen being clicked.

3. I am allergic to apples, but I can eat them if they are cooked. This is something that I don’t think is weird, however everyone I tell usually says some thing like, “How can you be allergic to apples?” Which will prompt the response, “How the fuck would I know?”

4. I love the smell of nail polish remover. When I was little I would sit and talk to my mother when she “doing” her nails just so I could smell the remover.

5. I don’t like being touched while I’m sleeping. Every time I’ve had a new boyfriend I have asked them not to touch me while I’m sleeping because I have a habit of elbowing people in my sleep. This isn’t a conscious action. No matter how many times I explain to partner they always forget, that is until they elbowed it the gut.

6. I will eat tripe, octopus, squid, intestine, but the thought of eating boiled potatoes makes me feel sick.

I think I am supposed to virtually tag six other people, ah yeah I’m not gonna do that that either.

I'm Sorry

2006-11-29T20:24:00.000-05:00

I know I haven't posted in a while. There hasn't been much going on that I feel has been worth posting. Everything seems to be getting on pretty well, so I don't have much to talk about.

I am sure thing will change when that happens I will be back.

E Meet the Family, Family Meet E

2006-11-14T11:56:00.000-05:00

I keep promising that I am going to blog more, but I don't seem to find the time. Actually it's more like I find me self sitting in front of my computer looking "art" pictures of the male form.

So what's been happening with me? Well first let me say it's very nice of you to ask. Last week the E came to dinner at my sister's house with my family to celebrate my mother's birthday. It was the first time any of them had met.

Things at dinner went well, as I expected they would. E however was less optimistic about the outcome and was a bit nervous. That was due partly to the fact that I told when a person is new to the family they are always asked to say grace before dinner, so it might be a good idea that he have something prepared. Not only is he Buddhist, but also he knows nothing about Christianity the prospect of having to say grace immediately sent him into a panic. I completely forgot to tell him that it was a joke until he sent me an instant message with what he planned to say. Yes, I'm a bad boyfriend.

Most the evening the E kept himself busy doing what ever my sister told him to do. He was very happy keeping a watchful eye over the boiling pasta and chopping tomatoes for a salad. With twice the older sisters as me he isbegin be beign told what to do.

There was only one uncomfortable moment, when my grandmother asked him if he liked hockey. He looked unsure how to answer her, like he was thinking if he said yes she would have been said something rude or even worse invited him over for my grandmother's two favorite things a Bruins game and a highball. He told her the truth that he didn't know any thing about hockey and he wouldn't be able to hold his liquor the same way she could. Unfazed she turned to my father to tell him that she would prefer it if next Sunday he would keep his homily a bit shorter Mass is only supposed to be 45 minutes for the third time.

Bless Me Father for I Have Sinned

2006-11-08T11:02:00.000-05:00

I didn't vote.

Of course I feel awful about it. What happened was I didn't register in time for the election, not that it's an excuse I know. During the primary I called my town hall to find out if I could vote even if I'd "forgotten" to register when I moved last, they told me no. I called the last town I lived in they told me no as well.

I was planning to go register so I could vote in the election but the day I planned to do it the boyfriend decided to take the day of so we could hang out and since I have the attention span of a house fly I forgot to do it that day. Two days later I leaned I'd missed the window.

So here before you all I religious me right to complain about the government until the next election cycle.

I'm truly sorry.

David Bowie - I'm Afraid of Americans

2006-11-05T21:01:00.000-05:00

World Vegan Day

2006-11-01T16:33:00.000-05:00

Ok I get it you don’t like to eat meat. Now will you shut the fuck up about it?

Below is a comment I posted on a blog discussing the “heath” benefits of veganism.

On that note I'll take my filet rare enough that it's sitting in a pool of it’s own blood when it's served.

As I'm sure you are aware there are many other things that go into over all health than just eating meat or not. I would suspect that when you became a vegetarian you became much more aware of what you were putting into your body to make up for the fact you were no longer eating meat that lead to the health benefits and not giving up meat alone as your post suggests.

Most the people I have met who have been vegetarian were self-righteous and used their vegetarianism as a tool so they could feel morally superior to others, just as the religious right does (not that I’m standing on a cyber soapbox to preach to the masses).

Furthermore I have read some literature PETA produced about dairy farming that was both erroneous and misleading. PETA uses the same scare tactics and distortion of facts about eating meat that the Bush Administration uses about terrorism.

Every time I’m not blinded by my shampoo, I thank a bunny.

After Pat’s Birthday

2006-10-25T16:10:00.000-04:00

I copied this from truthdig.com after co-worker suggested I read it. It's was written but the brother of Pat Tillman who left a career in the NFL to join the military after the 9/11 attacks.

By Kevin Tillman

Editor’s note: Kevin Tillman joined the Army with his brother Pat in 2002, and they served together in Iraq and Afghanistan. Pat was killed in Afghanistan on April 22, 2004. Kevin, who was discharged in 2005, has written a powerful, must-read document.

It is Pat’s birthday on November 6, and elections are the day after. It gets me thinking about a conversation I had with Pat before we joined the military. He spoke about the risks with signing the papers. How once we committed, we were at the mercy of the American leadership and the American people. How we could be thrown in a direction not of our volition. How fighting as a soldier would leave us without a voice… until we got out.

Much has happened since we handed over our voice:

Somehow we were sent to invade a nation because it was a direct threat to the American people, or to the world, or harbored terrorists, or was involved in the September 11 attacks, or received weapons-grade uranium from Niger, or had mobile weapons labs, or WMD, or had a need to be liberated, or we needed to establish a democracy, or stop an insurgency, or stop a civil war we created that can’t be called a civil war even though it is. Something like that.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is. Somehow our elected leaders were subverting international law and humanity by setting up secret prisons around the world, secretly kidnapping people, secretly holding them indefinitely, secretly not charging them with anything, secretly torturing them. Somehow that overt policy of torture became the fault of a few “bad apples” in the military.

Somehow back at home, support for the soldiers meant having a five-year-old kindergartener scribble a picture with crayons and send it overseas, or slapping stickers on cars, or lobbying Congress for an extra pad in a helmet. It’s interesting that a soldier on his third or fourth tour should care about a drawing from a five-year-old; or a faded sticker on a car as his friends die around him; or an extra pad in a helmet, as if it will protect him when an IED throws his vehicle 50 feet into the air as his body comes apart and his skin melts to the seat.

Somehow the more soldiers that die, the more legitimate the illegal invasion becomes.

Somehow American leadership, whose only credit is lying to its people and illegally invading a nation, has been allowed to steal the courage, virtue and honor of its soldiers on the ground.

Somehow those afraid to fight an illegal invasion decades ago are allowed to send soldiers to die for an illegal invasion they started.

Somehow faking character, virtue and strength is tolerated.

Somehow profiting from tragedy and horror is tolerated.

Somehow the death of tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people is tolerated.

Somehow subversion of the Bill of Rights and The Constitution is tolerated.

Somehow suspension of Habeas Corpus is supposed to keep this country safe.

Somehow torture is tolerated.

Somehow lying is tolerated.

Somehow reason is being discarded for faith, dogma, and nonsense.

Somehow American leadership managed to create a more dangerous world.

Somehow a narrative is more important than reality.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is.

Somehow the most reasonable, trusted and respected country in the world has become one of the most irrational, belligerent, feared, and distrusted countries in the world.

Somehow being politically informed, diligent, and skeptical has been replaced by apathy through active ignorance.

Somehow the same incompetent, narcissistic, virtueless, vacuous, malicious criminals are still in charge of this country.

Somehow this is tolerated.

Somehow nobody is accountable for this.

In a democracy, the policy of the leaders is the policy of the people. So don’t be shocked when our grandkids bury much of this generation as traitors to the nation, to the world and to humanity. Most likely, they will come to know that “somehow” was nurtured by fear, insecurity and indifference, leaving the country vulnerable to unchecked, unchallenged parasites.

Luckily this country is still a democracy. People still have a voice. People still can take action. It can start after Pat’s birthday.

Brother and Friend of Pat Tillman,

Kevin Tillman

Bridge Over Troubled Water

2006-10-20T12:16:00.000-04:00

We about to have some church up in here. There is something about this type of gospel music that I have always loved. It is of course Whitney Houston and CeCe Winans

100 Random Things About Me.

2006-10-17T15:04:00.000-04:00

1. My hair started to turn gray when I was 19. Everyday I am getting closer to the Cooper Anderson look.

2. I have one sibling, a sister who is 11 months older than I am.

3. I have foster brother named Luis who I only see on holidays. His is gay as well. The answer to your question is no and you should be ashamed of yourself for asking.

4. I hate being asked how tall I am and don’t understand why it’s a point of interest for other people. It’s not like I had any say in the matter.

5. I don’t like children, not all children just most of them, especial the dirty ones.

6. I’ve never owned any pets.

7. I’m allergic to cats.

8. When I was a child I started to learn Spanish from PBS, but was told not to speak it.

9. My shoe size is 11.

10. My favorite color is black. Our neighbor told my mother that there was some study were some psychologist said that children who prefer the color black have a mental problem.

11. My sister and I used to refer to that neighbor as Mrs. Kravits.

12. I am double jointed in my left thumb.

13. I’ve always wanted to learn to play piano but I never did.

14. I’ve known all of my grandparents and my mother’s maternal grandparents as well.

15. I’m far more judgmental than I’d like to be.

16. I was at one time in love with a woman. My parents who were desperate to have Catholic and Irish grandchildren tried to get me marry her.

17. I think hairy bums are hot.

18. I’d like to learn to speak Mandarin Chinese.

19. I think there is nothing better than the feeling of loving someone who loves you back.

20. I’ve cried at almost every episode of the Biggest Loser, which probably makes me an even bigger loser.

21. I always thought there was something more to Aqua-man and Aqua-lad’s relationship that the cartoon lead me to believe.

22. If I was could be a super hero I’d want to the Green Lantern. Yes, it’s because of the jewelry.

23. I’m too tall to sleep on anything smaller than a queen size bed.

24. I hate tomatoes, but love things made with tomatoes.

25. When I blush my whole head turns ad red as a stoplight.

26. I am extremely ticklish.

27. I hate to be tickled.

28. I can type about 80 wpm.

29. I am more attracted to dark skinned men.

30. I’ve been sun burnt so badly that I’ve needed to be hospitalized.

31. History was my favorite subject in high school.

32. I have a very short temper.

33. love white cake with white frosting.

34. I lived in Los Angeles for 5 years.

35. If there is a sexual innuendo to be made I will make it, regardless of who I’m talking or how it will be received.

36. I don’t understand people why people buy DVD’s to watch the same movie over and over again.

37. My favorite flavor of ice cream is Ben and Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk.

38. I’ve never been arrested.

39. I almost got arrested for being a minor in possession of alcohol, but because the arresting officer was the relative of a friend he just confiscated our liquor and let us go.

40. The smell of coleslaw makes me gag.

41. I have a very bad habit of taking on other peoples accents when I am speak to them. It’s completely unintentional and I have to make a special effort not to do it.

42. Devoutly religious people scare me.

43. I’ve had sex in the administrative offices of a certain Ivy League University.

44. My confirmation name is Michael after St. Michael.

45. I have a co-worker who has a St. Michael tattoo. When I asked him about it he told me it was because he likes the idea of good conquering evil. I feel in love with him immediately.

46. I have two bottles of fish sauce on my kitchen counter.

47. I hate being asked if I’m Italian.

48. I think James Gandolfini is sexy.

49. I am the most impatient person I know.

50. I think being a good listener is my best quality.

51. I’d choose love over money every single time.

52. I don’t believe Jesus was divine and I don’t think it matters.

53. I don’t read as much as I’d like.

54. I am far to easily distracted.

55. I don’t feel like I am making as much money as I should and it’s a constant source of frustration.

56. I love sex, but hate mastrubation.

57. I’m a great kisser. I know every one says this but I have references.

58. I love to iron.

59. I miss the Eucalyptus tree that was outside my window when I lived in West Hollywood.

60. I make fun of townies.

61. I will never forget that Bill Clinton fucked us too with the Defense of Marriage Act and the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy. Sorry, Hillary I will not be voting for you if you run. (Steve you can read that one again.)

62. When I came out to my sister she said, “Congratulations” referring to a quote from Ellen (paraphrasing) “It’s not like you get a cake that says Congratulations You’re Gay. Except for maybe in West Hollywood.” Neither of us had heard of West Hollywood at the time.

63. If you ask me if you look fat in your outfit I will tell you the truth.

64. I broke both of wrists at the same time.

65. I broke my left arm two summers later.

66. I know more about Catholicism than most people who practice it even thought I don’t.

67. When I was born I think my parents were expecting some else.

68. The two most important things I own are my grandfather’s fireman’s helmet and my great grandmother’s rosary beads.

69. I learned not to talk back to my grandmother the hard way.

70. I hate cheese cake, but love ricotta pie.

71. I wish I had more time to do charity work.

72. I wish I cared less about what people think.

73. I have body image issues.

74. I have a love hate relationship with Massachusetts. Today it's hate.

75. I love it when a friend says something that proves they know you better than you expected.

76. I love marathon telephone conversations that only end because my jaw becomes sore from talking.

77. I wish all of my friends lived closer to me.

78. I hate word games.

79. If I could wake up straight tomorrow, I wouldn’t.

80. When I lived in LA I found it easier to relate to people who were “Latin” then other white people.

81. I used to have a reoccurring dream about Donnie and Marie Osmond.

82. I know far too much useless information such as the reason why two pairs of jeans labeled the same size vary in fit so much is because of the way the denim is cut. The fabric is stacked and cut by machine, when machine moves the fabric tends to slip causing the discrepancy in fit. Fascinating, no?

83. I spend hours a week listening to NPR.

84. I love chocolate.

85. I have been in more sweatshops than I care to remember.

86. I’m a horrible procrastinator.

87. I have the same name as a major chemical company and the stock exchange, it’s only three letters long and people still ask me how to spell it.

88. I once had to break up a fight in a gay bar. That is the only time I’ve seen a fight in a gay bar.

89. Most of my friends are women.

90. I try to be polite as possible if people I don’t find attractive hit on me.

91. I wish that it wasn’t next to impossible to see independent movies in this city.

92. I once wore my bathrobe to the mall. My sister loves to tell people this story even thought it happened 20 years ago.

93. When I was a teenager during lent my mother though instead of giving something up for lent we should go to church everyday. It sucked.

94. When I lived in LA I learned that Americans have no knowledge of the geography their own country. New York is not part of New England and Massachusetts isn’t next to, close by or even a reasonable distance from Tennessee to be considered close.

95. When I lived in LA I missed the smell of fall in New England. Only people who weren’t from New England didn’t understand how a season could have a smell.

96. I also love the smell of nail polish remover.

97. I’ve done crystal meth once. It was the scariest experience of my life.

98. I played one season of little league baseball. The league was thankful it wasn’t two seasons.

99. I wish I had more time and better weather for biking.

100. I’ve been surprised that things in my life I’ve worked hardest to distance myself from were the frist things I reached for when I’ve faced adversity.

The Cure - Hot Hot Hot

2006-10-14T23:18:00.000-04:00

When this video came out in 1988 I was 17. In the morning before I went to school I would style my hair like Robert Smith's and sneak out of the house. When I got home from school I would have wash it out before my father got home so he wouldn't see it. No one ever questioned all the cans of Aqua Net.

Break Up to Make Up

2006-10-12T13:34:00.000-04:00

I am usually not so indecisive when it comes to dating people. Usually I either like you or I don’t. In the past if I decided I didn’t want to date you there was nothing you could say or do that would change my mind. For some reason things have worked out to be a bit different this time. So Chinese Boyfriend (as my Indonesian friend calls him) and I are back together and things are good. And I am happy. I think.

He grew up in Taipei and moved to the Yonkers, NY when he was 11, which makes for an odd accent. Odd in an enduring way not a “there all gonna laugh at you” sort of way.

It’s going to be interesting to see how I am going to integrate our relationship into my family. His family lives in New York, they’re fragmented and not close so it will be less of an issue with them. However mine is a bit different. There is only one other time I brought a boyfriend home to meet my family. His name is Javier my sister kept calling him Jose. After about the fourth time of me correcting her she said she was going to start calling him Fred, like it was his fault that she is an idiot. I am sure it will make for some interesting posts.

Bob Mould - See A Little Light

2006-10-07T14:16:00.000-04:00

I really love this song. It expresses what I've felt far to often.

Sorry I've Been Away

2006-10-07T13:47:00.000-04:00

I've been a bit to busy to put to much effort into the blog, not that there is much effort that goes in to this blog. Hopefully I will be more inspired soon.

Surfing YouTube So You Don't Have To

2006-09-29T12:37:00.000-04:00

Lilies - Cranes

2006-09-29T12:26:00.000-04:00

An Anniversary

2006-09-25T17:09:00.000-04:00

Yesterday my first friend told me he’s HIV+. I am very lucky in the fact that were about one generation after the one that was most devastated by AIDS.

He has been positive for almost five years and has only been sick once. Like most people who are positive and don’t know it he found out he had HIV after getting sick. At the time he was so sick his doctor told him he should make some “arrangements”. That was around Christmas 2001.

He and I used to date when I live in LA. Our relationship didn’t last more than seven months. He had been tested so he knows he wasn’t positive when we were dating and thinks he knows how he got infected. Over the years we have remained friends, even tough we only see each other every other year we talk regularly.

After he told me and assured me he has only been sick that once in 2001 I didn’t know what to say. Selfishly I felt a little hurt that he didn’t tell me when this happened almost five years ago, but he reminded that I was keeping my distance from him at the time. He had lied to me about the death of a guy he was dating that lived out of state, when he finally came clean about it I didn’t take it so well. He tried to tell me while he was here in the spring but it just didn’t happen. With the five-year anniversary coming up he wanted to tell more people.

Looking back on it the things he said to me when we started talking again take on a different meaning. I was training for the 2002 AIDS Ride and got stuck at Zuma Beach in Malibu 25 miles form my car that was parked in Santa Monica. A spoke on my back wheel broke warping the tired making it impossible to ride the bike that far. I called him to ask him if he would come and me pick me up and take me back to my car. When he got there we loaded my car back into the back of this Trooper.

“I am glad we’re still friends and help each other out,” he told me.

“Yeah me too.”

Fortune Cookie

2006-09-25T13:27:00.000-04:00

"Every exit is an entrance to new experiences."

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Know Your Rights - The Clash

2006-09-24T21:40:00.000-04:00

Something for Both of Us

2006-09-19T20:41:00.000-04:00

My father's proudest moment.

My proudest moment.

Jesus really does love me.

Anyone Else Need to Feel Better?

2006-09-18T15:33:00.000-04:00

Recently I was talking to a coworker about love and potential love. She is the self-professed quintessential fag hag, gay men flock to her. Much like my friend Kate her mind works more like a man’s. She isn’t emotionally manipulative if aren’t working out she is moving on and not thinking twice about it. She is dating a new guy. He was a chef at a gay restaurant, but isn’t the least bit gay she assured me. He’s 30 (she is 25) and has gone back to school for a film degree.

I told her about a guy I’ve been hooking up this guy off and on for a few years and how I would like to transition our relationship into a dating one and not just sex.

“It’s not just that I don’t know how to make the transmission, I’m a bit intimidated by him”

“What do you mean? Why?”

“He’s an attorney. He’s really smart, successful and the bedroom in his loft is larger then my whole apartment. It makes me feel like a dork.”

“Oh my god well you have to try. I mean do you like him?”

“Yeah I do, but I don’t really know him all that well.”

5 minutes of laughter.
“I love talking to you. I don’t feel like so much of a slut.”

Massive Attack - Protection

2006-09-15T09:56:00.000-04:00

This song reminds me of a former coworker I had a crush on about ten years ago, in so many life as changed since then and in other ways it hasn't.

Queer Eye for the Old Guy

2006-09-12T21:56:00.000-04:00

A month and a half before my father's ordination we had to have a chat that I knew was going be difficult for both of us. We don't often have these types of heart to heart conversations but I knew something could go horribly wrong if I didn't step in to stage an intervention that only a gay son could.

I was a little gun shy from failing at this in the past, I decided to test the waters with my mother. I was hoping she could give me some guidance or to at least give me some support for what may need to be double-pronged attack. Even before all the words were out of my mouth she got tense.

"What is Dad planning on wearing to his ordination?"

"Scott, things have been so stressful I haven't been able to go down that road with him nor do I want to, we had to may fights with him about what he's wearing. I think he is going to wear the suit he bought for Grandpa's funeral. If you want to talk to him about it, be my guest. I'm not ready for it."

"What about shoes?"

"He has black shoes."

"If they're the shoes he wore to Aunt Sis's funeral. He's they're to casual."

The suit in question was bought in 1999 the year my grandfather died. When it had become clear my grandfather wouldn't be coming out of the hospital my mother forced my father to buy a new suit. I lived on the west coast and was spared the thrill of this event.

"Grandpa wouldn't dyinging if he knew what he was putting me through," was what he said in the store. He meant this with no irony. None of the men in my family know what is appropriate to wear to a formal event or how to wear it. They'd rather have gum surgery than go to the men's section of Macy's.

When my youngest uncle still lived at home he and my grandfather shared the same tie. It was as system that worked for years until they were both expected to attend the same wedding.

"Can you believe we had to buy a new tie for this?"

While formulating my plan of attack I decided to start small then work my way up, first the shoes then the suit. Day one of operation "neatly dressed" was planned for the day my parents were leaving for their summer vacation. I knew he'd be in a good mood and wouldn't expect it, then if he complained to my mother she would only reinforce what'd told him for two weeks they were away.

I fired my first shot, "Do you have shoes to wear to the ordination?"

"Oh right, Mom told me I was supposed to show you the shoes," It was going to take more then sarcasm to deter me.

He went left the kitchen and brought back the shoes. They looked even worse than I remember. These are the type of shoes your see little boys and old men wear, soft leather that doesn't hold a shape with thick laces so they're easy to tie. They had a black rubber sole, the kind that marks up a wood floor, wears in the corner when you drive after the first time you drive with them on, and are always dirty.

"Dad these aren't dress shoes."

"What do you mean they aren't dress shoes they're black?"

"I mean they're to casual for you to wear with a suit."

"Ugh."

"What about a suit? Do you have a suit to wear?"

"Yeah I have a suit. I'm gonna wear the suit I have the tan and black checked one."

"You should really think about getting a nice black suit. One that's really conservative, that way if you have to do a wedding or a funeral you'll be able to wear it. If you take care of it you'll have it for years."

"Ugh." He was as exasperated as old man Costanza from Seinfeld.

"When I was an alter boy Fr. Mullen's always told us it was black pants and black shoes, not brown or blue pants, black pants with black shoes."

When my parents got back from vacation I stopped by to drop off their keys. It was time for phase two. I brought up the clothes again. It worked he gave in with out much resistance. But not before I told him his old suit was just ugly, but hey this is war right?

We, or I decided a single breasted, two button, single vented suit would be best for him. Five times he asked me why, five times I gave him the reasons. He would have it and not have to worry about being under dressed for anything. We made a date for shopping.

The Sunday before we went to the store he and my mother did some pre-shopping, she found a dress for herself. She and my father just looked for him; she wouldn't let him buy anything with out my approval. She did let him know what she liked.

When my father and I got to the store I headed straight back to the suits.

"46 regular?"

"Were you in my closet?"

"Yes, 46 regular right?"

Sigh. "Yes"

We went thought the suits. I picked one out he said no, he picked one out he I said you are going to a Deacon not a pimp. That didn't go over so well, but I laughed. He showed me the one my mother liked. It was a no it was cotton and would fade. Actually he got into the spirit of what we were doing it made it fun. After trying on 5 or 6 jackets we nothing was right. I was willing to settle on something a bit different, but there was no changing plans for my father he was getting what I suggested nothing less would do. The next one he tried on was it.

I sent him over to the tailor, "Oh this fits you nice." The tailor was from West Africa. Actually he wasn't American and that's all I cared about, I don't trust American born tailors, it's not rational I know a foreign makes me feel he was taught his trade from men who had been tailors for generations. The tailor marked the suit and looked in the mirror as I nodded my approval.

"Why did they take sleeves up?"

"Your shirt cuff is supposed to show."

"What if I'm wearing short sleeves?"

"Short sleeve dress shirts are for 5 year olds and copier repairmen since you're neither you don't have to worry about it."

He had his suit in his hand and started to head for the door, I made a left toward shirts.

"17. 34-35"

"Yes"

I picked up two blue shirts one darker the other. He chose the lighter one, but was kind of the size.

"Should I ask Kenny to measure me to make sure we get the right one?"

He wanted to do it righ and I loved that he called the tailor by his name. He didn't call him the guy, the black guy or the tailor he gave him the respect of learning his name.

The size was correct he chose the lighter of the two shirts.

Next we were on to ties. He didn't like anything I held up and went to the other side of the rack to see more. The tie he brought over matched the shirt. I didn't like it, but I figured he should be able to choose one thing on his own. We got him a belt as well.

In a little more than an hour he was almost completely outfitted. We stopped for a bite to eat and to regroup. Just one pair of shoes stood between me and completing my mission.

The shoes turned out to be a bit of a nightmare. All of his enthusiasm was gone when he parked his pick-up in the parking lot. I practically had to drag him into the store. He stomped his feet and whined. Reassuringly I put my hand on his should and pulled out the big guns. I didn't want to do it, I have him an extra little shove. I played the guilt card.

"You know this has nothing to do with you. I am doing this for Mom she wants you to look your best. It's one less thing for her to worry about. She has done a lot for you to get to the ordination you can do this for her."

He cut his eyes at me, but made not more protests.

Walking up and down the isles I explained to him what we were needed, "We are looking for a shoe with a leather sole and wood heal not a rubber one. That way you can have the soles replaced if you really like the shoes. If you buy rubber soled ones they'll wear out quicker."

I found a pair of lace ups oxfords that I liked and had him sit down on a bench to try them on. My father has a high arch so he can only wear shoes with laces. It makes buying shoes a major pain for him and why he hates it.

"What do you mean they wear out to quickly? These are fine."

I picked up the shoe he had just taken off to show him were it was starting to fall apart and were the dirt was caked on it. He sighed at me again.

The shoe shopping was a failure nothing fit him properly. We made a date to do it another night. Much to my surprised on the second shopping night he bought the first pair of shoes he tired on. I'd prepared myself for the worst, but it was painless.

He told all of my relatives how I lectured him on the shoes and how they were supposed to be. They all thought it was hilarious, and that I was clearly out of my mind. However I won in the end.

Two days before the actual ordination he started to understand. The Deacon in charge of the program told all the candidates that they could only wear back pants and black shoes to the ordination and nothing else. Before we went shopping he didn't have black pants.

During the ordination he had to kneel and lay on the alter with the soles of his shoes facing the congregation. The day after the ordination when he celebrated his first mass my Uncle and Aunt said to me, "Gee his shoes looked so nice. You don't realize you're gonna see them when he's standing so much higher then everything on the altar".

Requiem

2006-09-11T15:01:00.000-04:00

I started to write what happened to me on 9/11, where I was, what I was doing, how I felt. It all felt more self indulgent than I'd like to be on a day that so many people are mourning the lost of loved ones.

In short on 9/11 I lived in West Hollywood, CA I didn't think that something that happened 3,000 miles from my adopted home with have touched me the way it did, but the planes did take of from the place I've lived most of my life.

When you remember today please remember Jay Corcoran. He was a passenger United Airlines flight 175. Jay was a merchant marine traveling to Los Angeles for work. He is survived by his wife and two teenage children. He was only 44.

Jay is my aunt's (my mother's sister-in-law) brother-in-law. I had met him a couple of times at parties that were held by our relatives that connected us. Though I didn't know him well he is the person that think of most today.

Deacon Dad

2006-09-09T17:09:00.000-04:00

Today (not the Monday that I find myself rewriting this.) my father was ordained as a Catholic Deacon. I had started to compose a post about him the way I know him, but I was afraid it sounded a bit to angry, I just want this post to be about the snapshot of his moment not film archive of my life.

In a ceremony that lasted three hours, in the Cathedral of the Holy Cross that has no air conditioning, on an humid 83 degree day. My father walked into the building a regular man and walked out a certified servant of God with the title Deacon. This process has taken over four years.

Being a Deacon means he can do everything a priest does with the exception of three things, consecrating, this is the part of mass where the bread and wine are transformed into the flesh and blood of Christ. Formally this process is called transubstantiation (also one my friend Nicole’s favorite words). Secondly he can’t give absolution which is good because if I am feeling the need to confess anything it would probably be to much for him to handle. Lastly he can’t give last rites or the anointing of the sick as it’s called now. I am sure this is tied to absolution, they don’t want any one lower then a priest hading out the special Get Out of Hell Free cards.

The ceremony was presided over by the least favorite Catholic in the world, Cardinal Sean O’Malley who I served me communion (I think he cruised me). Out side of that the ceremony was beautiful. No one does pageantry like the Catholics do it. The procession to start the mass had about 200 people in it. The cathedral holds 3,000 people and from where I sat it looked full. 14 other men where ordained as well.

I am extremely happy for him for finally facing his fear and doing something I think he would have done sooner if he wasn’t so afraid of it. In a surprise to myself my pride came out in tears, I cried from the moment I saw him walk in his alb to the end when he left the church in his dalmatic. I actually cried more than my mother did.

As a Deacon he will be working out the his home parish Our Lady of the Assumption in Lynnfield, MA. You can see him give a homily any time you like. Much to my grandmother’s chagrin they tend to be a bit long winded. She told him she would prefer it if he kept it short.

Now I will answer the question: Oh my God it must be so hard for you, blagh blagh blagh. The answer is I don’t know if it’s hard or not, I don’t know anything else life has always been like this for me. Furthermore he and I aren’t the same person. I have my own mind I think for myself and as does he. And there is nothing in the church that says being gay is a sin it’s all the sex I’m having that’s a problem for them. We don’t talk about my sex life so we are fine.

Humming - Portishead

2006-09-08T20:22:00.000-04:00

I have decided to share some of my favorite music once a week. This week I have decided on Portishead. Although this is my not my favorite of their songs the video is beautiful.

Off Point

2006-09-07T15:45:00.000-04:00

Hey everybody Pat Buchanan has a new book out titled State of Emergency: The Third World Invasion and Conquest of America. Now before you run to your local Borders or Barns and Noble to buy the book I must warn you it’s a bit racist. You’re shocked, right?

Yesterday on WBUR’s program On Point ol’ Pat was interviewed and discussed his new book. Now I must admit I had turn it off half way through the conversation because my throat was sore from yelling at the radio. Below I have pasted in some his quotes from the program that are posted on WBUR’s site and I will only discuss what I was able to make it t.

It seems Pat has been kept awake nights thinking about the counties “immigration crisis”. The problem isn’t just people coming into the country illegally the problem is people coming into the country and simply refusing to assimilate to American culture. He argued that a new wave of immigrants have come to the US who are not interested in being American nor do they want their children to be American, they just came here for all the great things we have here like say free health care and our amazingly generous welfare system. Oh right we don’t have those to things, maybe they are actually coming here because the US offers them something they couldn’t hope to attain in their home countries like free speech and a chance for economic freedom, just like Buchanan’s may have.

He is afraid we have let so may Mexican’s into the country who wont assimilate that we are in danger of loosing the whole southwest to become part of Mexico again. You see all of these Mexicans are doing things like speaking Spanish in public and eating far too much paella, things you just shouldn’t do as an American. There are just so many of them they don’t have a need to learn to speak English, which of course means they will eventually want to takeover all forms of Government secede from the Union and become part of Mexico. I hope that gave you the laugh I got from it.

He also seen immigrants marching or demonstrating while flying the flags of their national origin and they shouldn’t be. He feels the melting pot is broken and assimilation is what is needed more then anything to preserve our great way of life.

Of course he didn’t mention having a problem with St. Patrick’s Day or Columbus Day when the Irish and Italians Americans respectively come out in droves to celebrate their ethnic pride with parades flying flags of the foreign countries of their heritage. Guess what Pat, most of these people are 4th and 5th generation American and have never stepped counties they are claiming an affiliation with, and do you think they pose a threat for the same reasons? Should they be deported too?

In my part of the US when you ask someone what their nationality is they don’t answer American. It doesn’t matter how when their ancestors to the US, when asked they will invariably give you a list of their ethnic background or the one they most identify with culturally. Should we deport all of these people as well to fully assimilate?

He went on to suggest that our country needs to stop all immigration now to give the people already here time to properly assimilate to US customs. After their assimilation is complete we should only take in people from countries that mirror our own in culture, ethnic make up, and religion. Loosely translated Pat only wants white Christians coming here. One would argue that we should be open to the countries neighboring our south but the there is a race problem. Apparently because most of South and Central America is made of Mestizo people they are simply incapable of understanding how we do things here in the US even though they meet the qualifications he had already set for immigration.

It seems the Spanish weren’t as successful getting rid of the native peoples in rest of the Americas as the English were. As a consequence of a poor policy toward ethnic cleansing they won’t be allowed to immigrate into the US.

Another point about why we should keep the Mexicans out is they are taking jobs from mostly Black Americans who are lined up in some unknown location waiting for jobs working in the fields picking crops. He likened these immigrants to union busters and scabs crossing picket lines. You heard it right he is a pro-labor pro-black Republican. This is about where I had to turn it off.

I don’t know why WBUR would give platform to this horrible hatemonger. I would agree that it’s important to hear both sides of an argument but having to listen to Pat Buchanan talk about immigration is as useful as asking KKK for advice to help improve American race relations.

Quotes from the program:

"The immediate threat is the spanishization of the American Southwest." Pat Buchanan

"I see increasingly a bifurcated [American] nation." Pat Buchanan

"Millions of these people [today's immigrants] are not coming to be Americans but to work." Pat Buchanan

"Any troublemaker including those leading a political demonstration who is not an American citizen I would deport." Pat Buchanan

Nightswimming

2006-09-01T08:41:00.000-04:00

Have great Labor Day weekend.

Belly

2006-08-31T19:01:00.000-04:00

Let me apologize in advance of you viewing this video. I was on youtube looking for videos from the band Belly when I cam across this gem. Youtube is dangerous.

Health Update

2006-08-31T15:34:00.000-04:00

I think my doctor is just fucking with me. What he is doing is just pushing me to see how long it will take before I am pushed to the point that I grab by the sagging flesh on his neck and squeeze the last breath out of him. Let me tell you he has come dangerously close.

Yesterday morning (Wednesday) I called his office for the fourth time to speak to the nurse practitioner that had seen me on my initial visit. As with the previous three times I called she wasn’t in the office after I was told she was going to be. WTF? My face started to get hot and I started to sweat.

I will be calm. I will not yell at this woman she is just answering the phone it isn’t her fault that she can’t give me an accurate time when the nurse will be in, she is more then likely retarded, she deserves my pity not my anger. Also it isn’t her fault that the doctor she works for is an inept condescending moron. I will get her to work with me; I need her help right now.

“I was in last Wednesday, Lori told me the rash I have is staph, and it hasn’t gone away. She told me to call if it didn’t go away. I have spoken to Dr. Clapp twice. He told me to speak to her because she saw me initially. This is the fourth time I have called to speak to her she hasn’t called me back. I need to be seen by someone today!” I was curt but I didn’t raise my voice.

“That’s probably a good idea I have something open at 11:00 am. Can you do that?”

“Yes, thank you.”

When I got to the office I was brought to an exam room and told to take of my shirt. This was the first time I had been in this particular exam room. It doubled as his office and was carpeted. Carpet in an exam room does not translate to sterile environment in my mind. In addiction to the carpet the light in this room was so dim I could hardly see well enough to tell what the true color of the carpet was. Just being in this room alone would have been enough for me to find a more suitable doctor regardless of this past week’s frustration.

He looked at the rash, “That doesn’t look viral like I thought.”

No shit.

“Ok now can I see the penile bump? Ok that looks like it’s healing. She gave you some cream for that?

“No it was for something else.”

“Well, you can put that on the bump it will help it heal it’s a steroid.”

“Is it MRSA?”

“It could be a lot of things I’m not sure.”

“Lori told me I have staph is that what the rash is and I have been exposed to two different people with MSRA?”

“I am going to refer you to a dermatologist. It’s not chlamydia or herpes those tests came back negative.”

No shit.

Everything he has said has been in a passive tone like he wasn’t when I mentioned the MRSA this tone changed from passive to dismissive. I know I didn’t spend eight years training to practice medicine, however I do know how to use Google, which you may be unaware, is a treasure-trove of information.

The assistant gave me the name of two dermatologists and instructed me to call her back to let her know when my appointment would be so she could give me a referral. HMO’s are such bullshit.

When I got back to my office I called the first doctor.

“Right the first appointment we have available is in January.”

“My doctor told me I might have a staph infection, but isn’t sure. It’s kind of an emergency, is there anything you can give me sooner?”

“We can only see so many patients in the time we have Sir”

C*NT!

I called the second doctor’s office the woman answering the phone was much nicer. She scheduled me for an appointment for September 16th, still not good enough but I had her pencil me in, she was the fist person I’ve spoken to who seemed to under stand the urgency of the situation. She said she would put me on a waiting list for first available. This office is only open four hours two days a week. Yeah, I am in the wrong business.

My plan was to call my doctor’s office back to see if they thought I should wait or just go to the emergency room. By the time I got off the phone with the dermatologist’s office it was to late to call my doctor, they’d already closed. A few hours later the dermatologist called me back to tell me they could get me in on Saturday.

Today the ex-boyfriend went to his doctor for a check up on his infection and he is getting better. He explained to his doctor that I thought I had it too, but I was getting little satisfaction from my doctor. His doctor told me to call him if I doubted what the dermatologist told me he would bee able to see me right away. I probably should have called his doctor last week.

Women in Comfortable Shoes Prefer the Country

2006-08-30T17:45:00.000-04:00

Mauree: I was just driving up 495 and saw two women driving in a U-Haul with a Subrau wagon in tow.

Me: Looks like someone made it to a second date.

Serenity Now!

2006-08-29T13:38:00.000-04:00

As it turns out there is a woman in my office that has the same type of infection that I do. She has had it for almost 2 months. According to her doctor it’s a new type of infection that is antibiotic resistant and is highly contagious. It’s called MSRA the more I read about it the scary it is.

When I went to the office and saw the nurse practitioner she told me to make sure I called the office if the rash I have didn’t get better. It didn’t. Friday morning called the office to speak with her she wasn’t in and I got a call back from the doctor. He told me that I probably had a virus even though he never saw me. I told him the nurse told me was staph and that I have been exposed to staph. He thought it would be best if I just kept taking the medicine that was prescribed for me and not bother him any longer.

Monday I called the office again to speak to the nurse practitioner and the again the doctor called me back. For the second time I went over what was going on with me. He told me he would have the nurse call me back because she was the person who saw me with a tone that related he couldn’t be bothered. What he failed to tell me was she wouldn’t be in until Wednesday (tomorrow), which I had to find out when I called for the third time today (Tuesday).

I have made some phone calls but I can’t find a doctor that will see me before the time the nurse is back in the office or I wouldn’t even bother with her.

Is There a Doctor in the House

2006-08-23T12:10:00.000-04:00

Another challenge to living in the ‘burbs was brought to my attention today with a trip to the doctor. I have been going to the same doctor for a year and a half. The doctor that runs the practice specialty is cardiology from the people I see in the waiting room most of his patients in their 70’s. Usually I see the nurse practitioner, who I really like. That is until this morning.
I had made the appointment because I have plantar fasciitis, this makes standing for long periods of time very painful. The second reason is I have what looks like a pimple on my penis that is needless to say freaking me out.

When the nurse practitioner realized she would have to examine the area she became visibly nervous. She even remarked, “Oh that’s the real reason you came in.” Of course I wasn’t looking forward to having that area of my body poked and prodded by a woman that had a matronly demeanor that reminded of my mother. However I would much rather endure that type of humbling experience than letting a health issue go long enough to turn into an even bigger problem. Not to mention this “pimple” is prohibiting use of this organ that I rather enjoy using.

“Unfortunately I am going to have to take a peek just to make sure it’s not herpes.”
Unfortunately? Of course you are going to look at it, because if you give a diagnosis without looking at it I am going to report you to the medial board and have your license revoked. And just so you know lady mine is actually pretty nice to look at!

This was not the way to put my mind at ease considering I was already experiencing a large level of anxiety from not knowing what is happening in my body while going through the list of things I knew could be wrong.

She instructed me to remove my pants then place a large piece of paper on my lap, for the sake my own comfort I could leave my underwear on. She left the room to give me some privacy. A few moments she came back into the room and put on rubber gloves.

“Ok now think of something else. Did you have a nice summer?”

“Yeah it’s been OK.”

Are you kidding I’m not a five year old that needs to be distracted so I won’t throw a tantrum.

“That looks good. Yes that looks good as well. You have some red ness on your skin, is that happening any where else?”

“Yeah I have a little rash on my stomach.”

“Ok that’s staph.”

She ended the exam and explained that it was just an infection, she was going to give me round of strong antibiotics that cover several STDs just to be on the safe side. That is the only time during the entire time I was in the office that she put me at ease, but I will still be looking for a new doctor.

It's Done

2006-08-22T17:42:00.000-04:00

I finally grew some sack and did it. I broke up with the boyfriend. He took it well and said he suspected that it was coming. Still, I felt like a jerk.

I told him I had a good time hanging out with him but I didn’t feel the same way about him that he was feeling about me. I didn’t want to lead him on into thinking something was happening that wasn’t. Maybe we can still be friends.

He said he knew that I am a very independent person and that having a boyfriend probably wasn’t for me. I am not sure what that means but I am glad he took it well.

I still feel like a jerk.

Thank You Anonymous

2006-08-18T14:52:00.000-04:00

Dear Anonymous,

Thank you for your comments on 8/18. As you can well imagine there few things that I enjoy more than being belittled in a public forum, especially when it's done by someone who has little time to identify themselves.

Growing up with Dyslexia I've had to learn how to get around certain things, because my brain doesn't process things the same way other peoples do. This makes proofing things very difficult, luckily I have support of people such as yourself.

It makes me feel special when people such as yourself are willing to point out my short comings.
Just the simple fact that you would take the time out of what I am sure is an extremely busy life to correct me with out any regard to tact makes me feel like you really care.

Thanks again,

Scott E D

It's a Happy Morning

2006-08-18T09:02:00.000-04:00

Birdhouse in Your Soul

They Might Be Giants

What Has Wings But Can't Fly?

2006-08-16T17:56:00.000-04:00

I don’t have much experience with children nor am I looking for any. When I was a child I preferred the company of adults for the most part and was perfectly happy playing alone. Kids kind of freak me out. This has created an interesting problem since my sister has done double duty in the procreation department by having four. The oldest is a girl the rest are boys, they range in age from twelve to three.

My niece I can relate to, she likes boys I like boys, she likes clothes I like clothes, she’s pretty, well you see where I am going here. With the boys I am at a loss I they like Godzilla and getting dirty and playing catch, I once squealed at the site of cute purse. The boys and I have come to a mutual understanding, I will keep giving them things if the don’t irritate me. Although my oldest nephew is fascinated by the fact I live alone and once said that I was smarter than this father, despite the fact his father could buy and sell my ass with the blink of an eye. You know he may be my new favorite.

I haven’t seen them since April mostly because their mother makes me angry but that is a story for another time. Recently we had gathered at my sister’s house for dinner to celebrate my brother-in-law’s birthday. The menu was spareribs and hotdogs to be served on the back deck (that is larger than my apartment) overlooking the pool and with a view of both the ocean and Boston depending on the direction you are looking.

Diner was nice the conversation was light I almost thought I was with someone else’s family, but the over cooked food assured me I was in the right place.

After a plate of spareribs my teeth ached from the pieces of meet caught in them, I excused myself to use find some dental floss. I had to go to three different bathrooms (they have four) before I found what I was looking for in the master bath, which is just half the size of my apartment and in a constant state of disarray. My sister has a cleaning lady yet the house is always a mess. Worse then the mess there is a maxi-pad sitting on the on the sink a big one with wings. I ignored it.

While I was getting the ribs out of my teeth my three-year-old nephew popped his head into the bathroom. Being the youngest he is perpetually happy. He always has a giggly smile on his face that makes you want to pick up and tickle him till he pukes. I fight this urge not only because being puked on doesn’t make for a good time but also I had an uncle that did the same to me, that is until I “accidentally” kicked in the face with a hiking boot on.

“What cha doooin’?”

“I’m tryin’ ta get the food outah my teeth.” My family causes me to speak in dialect rather than my finely tuned cosmopolitan accent.

“Why?”

“’Cause it’s bothahin’ me.”

“Ya tryin’ ta get the fooood outah ya teeth?”

“Yeah.” He walks from the door into the bathroom.

“Why? ‘Cause it’s boterin’ you?”

“Yup.” He picks up the pad.

“Wat’s this?” My sister and I were raised in a Catholic home and as most Catholic children he we taught to loath our bodies and not to discuss any function they perform. My sister is striking out a brave new world with her children by openly discussing things that as an adult I still don’t want to hear. I froze. His eyes were looking up at me for answer and I was at a loss. My first reaction was to call for back up, to pass, no punt, yes defiantly punt.

“Is it a pull up?” Crisis averted.

“Yeah that’s what it is”

“Looks kinda small, is if a pull up fo’ a baby?” He started to unfold it then looked with wide eyes as if he just unraveled one of the great mysteries of life.

“Yup ya right, ‘come on let’s go back down stayis” He picks up the pad as I nudge him to door.

“No let’s leave that he-ah.”

“But I wana show Mummy.”

“I think she knows it’s there.”

It's Not Me, It's You

2006-08-16T12:09:00.000-04:00

I am afraid I need to start the phase out of the new boyfriend. Although he has treated me well and I have enjoyed spending time with him there are a few things about him I just can’t get past.

He has a collection of Louis Vuitton bags and other accessories that are probably worth more then my car, which isn’t a problem. If he likes expensive things and can afford them he should have them, but I asked him just how many pieces he had he laughed and said, “ask me ex-boyfriend.” I didn’t need to consult the ex to figure out what he meant considering when we were having dinner with some of his coworkers he told me how much money he makes, with his salary he would have needed 5 year financing plan for just one of the bags (or treasures as he calls them) he has.

Next is his lack of attention to anything that isn’t deeply rooted in three divas, Christina, Mariah, and Kelly. No need for last names he is on a first name basis with all of them. I made a joke about the pictures of Mariah on his my space page “well she is my diva” was his response. Although I will hum along or even sing songs from anyone of these people (which I feel comfortable telling your because we’re friends and I will expect to go no further) there is no way I would refer to any one as diva. Bitch maybe diva no.

Kerry Healy Massachusetts’ Lt. Governor, who is now running for the Governor’s seat in what will be a hotly contested election, is clearly not one of his divas. Not just because she lacks the general savor-faire and charisma of the top three reigning divas, it’s because he had to ask me who she was even thought his neighborhood is plastered with campaign posters saying who she was and what she was doing. More accurately he wanted to know, “Why are there Healy posters everywhere” and “Who’s that again?”

Then there is the fact that he doesn’t drive, it’s not only that he doesn’t have a car which is the case with may people who live and work in Boston, it’s that he doesn’t have a licenses. He grew up in NYC then moved to Boston for college, there was never a real need for him learn. I understand all of this but I can’t up help resent that when we see each other I have the drive the 18 miles to his place. Only once has he offered to take the commuter rail out to make it easier on me.

And all of his friends are gay men and involved are involved in the bear community, while I wholly support the right to be as fat, hairy and look as tough as you want, I find the faux masculinity of it all grating. Growing a beard, wearing knee high Doc Martins, a black T-Shirt and a utility kilt or ripped jeans doesn’t make you more of man, it makes you a queen who is into dress up nothing more. How this relates to our relationship is keeps referring to me as being “woofy” a common bear term. I may need to loose a few pounds, I have body hair, and I could probably even pass for straight but that is just because of who I am not because I have a need to belong to some club or because I feel I have to celebrate the things that would get me chastised by shallowness of most other fags.

Lastly it is because of the way he talked to a woman working at the Chinese takeout place he frequents. She was boxing up our food he told her, not asked her to put hot sauce in the bag. I asked him if his mother had taught him to say please his response was, “not to the wait staff”. He did the quickest back pedal I’d ever seen when I told him what he said was ugly and I reminded him that the woman probably lives in the same neighborhood he does. He didn’t seem to care about what he said to her, just what I thought about it. Then went on to tell me he has a reputation for being rude to waiters.

I know that I am not without my faults. I am incredibly impatient, inflexible, and quick tempered. However I it seems that views of life aren’t inline enough to make a lasting relationship.

I Am Stretched on Your Grave

2006-08-09T17:22:00.000-04:00

I am stretched on your grave and will lie there forever,
If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they'd not sever,
My appletree, my brightness 'tis time we were together,
For I smell of the earth and am worn by the weather.

When my family thinks that I'm safe in my bed,
From night until morning I am stretched at your head.
Calling out to the air with tears hot and wild,
My grief for the girl that I loved as a child.

Do you remember the night we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn and the chill of the frost.
Thanks be to Jesus we did what was right
And your maidenhead still is your Pillar of Light.

The priests and the friars approach me in dread,
Because I still love you, my love, and your dead.
And still would be your shelter through rain and through storm
For with you in the cold ground I cannot sleep warm.

I am stretched on your grave and will lie there forever,
If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they'd not sever,
My appletree, my brightness 'tis time we were together,
For I smell of the earth and am worn by the weather.

To Out or Not To Out

2006-08-07T21:34:00.000-04:00

A few months ago I hooked up with a guy that I have talk to online several times. Things went as planned, but there was something hauntingly familiar about him. Being that I live about 10 miles from the town I grew up in I get this feeling often. We are also talking about the type of place where if you move out, you will eventually move back. The reason for this I’m not entirely sure I have yet to figure out my own reasons for coming back here.

He was using the shower when I solved the mystery. I went threw his wallet and read his drives license. Just kidding. The thought crossed my mind, but I didn’t need to invade is privacy, I actually remember. He is the brother of a friend of my ex-girlfriend and also the cousin of the ex-girlfriend’s brother-in-law. Ah life in a small incestuous town.

Last I heard of him he was living with his wife and two children. Had I remembered who he was before we hooked up, I surly wouldn’t have gone through with it. I’m no home wrecker nor am I saying that after one tryst with me he would see the light and leave that woman, that’s a total lie I am saying that, but I still don’t go down that road.

I decided I would let him know I knew what I knew then he’d know too and feel really bad for doing what he did. Not often do I have this type of power over someone else, I needed to savor it.

“Are you from Lynn?"

“Yeah, I am. Are you?” his tone was suspicious.

“Yeah is your last name ‘something long and Greek’?”

The look on his face was more then just stunned, it said, “If you just said what I think you just said I am going to dismember your body and cut it into tiny pieces, it will take months or even years for them to find the pieces if even find all of the pieces which they won’t because I have military training. In the many, many, many times that I have hooked up I have never been as scared as I was from that look, but I am sure he realized that I would scratch one of his eyes out with the voracity of a an angry drag queen as soon as he was close enough to me with a knife because he smiled, a scary smile but a smile still.

“Right I thought the name on your email was familiar.”

Good he knew I knew.

“Yeah we only met a couple of times.”

“Right in the 80’s with your brother.”

Oh no, I don’t have a brother.

“No I know your sister S. We went to school together I used to date Tracy her best friend. I met you at your parents’ 25th anniversary party. Then again at their house a while later.”

“Oh.”

He laughed a bit nervously, then started to pace as he dressed. It’s one thing to be recognized and have the ability to say no you must have been mistaken, but it’s certainly another thing for someone to say I know you I know your parents, aunts, uncles and cousins, there is no way out of this one.

“This is a bit awkward.”

“Not for me it isn’t.” I pressed my luck and smiled.

“I like your place do you mind if I look around?”

“Sure.”

While you’re looking notice how close the neighbors are, close enough to hear me scream.

He walked from room to room he looked out all the windows then opened the back door inspecting almost every inch. He kept making mindless small talk avoiding saying what I knew was coming. I was getting creeped out.

“How good are you at keeping secretes? ‘Cause you know my family doesn’t know and I’d like to keep it that way. My life is private. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah no problem.” He stared at me for a couple of seconds the way the godfather would if he had just asked you to do him a ‘favor’ to make sure you understood the gravity of the situation.

I passed the test. He walked tword the door.

"Email me you are interested in doing it again"

I smiled eventhough I wasn't.

Immediately I got on the phone to call Tracy to tell her what happened. No harm in telling her since her and his sister S had a falling out years ago when Tracy married S’s old fuck buddy. She was shocked. He is the last person she would have expected to be on the receiving end of something she’d rather not think about. She also voted him most likely to commit homicide and assured me the story would go no further. It turns out the family with the long Greek name is not the most open minded group. Also she was able to tell me that he and his girlfriend not wife broke up quite some time before our afternoon together.

He called me twice the following day, twice the day after that, he didn’t leave any messages. On the tried day he called me again I answered, he denied calling me at all the two days before. He asked if we could me again, I told him I didn’t have time. That was the end of it.

I hadn’t even thought about him till last Thursday when I was going through the names on knowthyneighbor.org which lists that names of people who have signed a petition that to have the MA state constitution amended to define marriage to be between a man and a woman only, even though the constitution clearly states the State can not create first class and second class citizens as such an amendment would. There was his name listed with his parents address. I called Tracy to confirm the address and that it wasn’t another relative, because there were two other families on the street with the same last name. Tracy confirmed he was the only one with his first name.

Now I am faced with a serious dilemma. I am all for the outing of closeted politicians who vote against gay rights legislation. There is absolutely nothing wrong with plastering their names in every corner of both the physical world and the cyber world. However, I am a bit more reluctant with a private citizen. Is it appropriate to send his mother a card that says: Congratulations your oldest son likes to take it in the ass?

Oy Goyum!

2006-08-07T11:04:00.000-04:00

Friend One: After a long description of the friend of a friend he doesn’t like he ends with, “She’s such a yenta”.

Friend Two: Confused and very serious, “Wasn’t that an 80’s movie with Barbara Streisand?”

Friend One: “No sweetie that was Yentl.”

Friend Two: "Are you sure?"

Your Golden Years Should Be So Good

2006-08-03T12:24:00.000-04:00

A few years ago my mother worked for a local hospital, part of her job was to help transition patients of the hospital into some type of long-term care facility. Her job required her to be “hands-on” with the people she was helping and often visited them in their rooms to explain the options they had.

One afternoon she was working with a patient who was sharing a room with another woman both women were in their seventies. As my mother was explaining how she would be able to help the woman she was working with a nurse came into the room to prep woman’s roommate for surgery.

The nurse closed the privacy curtain. She told the roommate she would need to be shaved before her procedure. Upon inspection of the area to be shaved the nurse with a bit of surprise in her voice said, “You don’t seem to have much hair.”

“Well, grass doesn’t grow on a busy street dear.”

I Have a Boyfriend?

2006-08-01T13:57:00.000-04:00

I have a boyfriend?

No, that's not right. It's not a question.

I have a boyfriend!

No, I don't want anyone one to think I was desperate before.

I have a boyfriend.

Oh shit this probably means I can't sleep with any of his friends.

Romney Had No Idea He's a Racist

2006-07-31T10:41:00.000-04:00

Romney is a Mormon here is a bit of history of blacks in the LDS church.

Massachusetts governor apologizes for calling Big Dig 'tar baby'
July 31, 2006

BOSTON --Gov. Mitt Romney has apologized for referring to the Big Dig mess as a "tar baby" during a fundraiser with Iowa Republicans, saying he didn't know anyone would be offended by the term some consider a racial epithet.

Romney, who is considering a presidential run in 2008, acknowledged in a speech Saturday that he took a big political risk taking control of the state's troubled highway project after a fatal tunnel ceiling collapse, but said inaction would have been even worse.

"The best thing politically would be to stay as far away from that tar baby as I can," he told a crowd of about 100 supporters in Ames, Iowa.

"I'll get the blame for anything that goes wrong," he said. "But I'm sure tired of people who are nothing but talk. I'm willing to take action."

Black leaders reacted with outrage at his use of the term, which dates to the 19th century Uncle Remus stories, referring to a doll made of tar that traps Br'er Rabbit. It has come to be known as a way of describing a sticky mess, and has been used as a derogatory term for a black person.
"Tar baby is a totally inappropriate phrase in the 21st century," said Larry Jones, a black Republican and civil rights activist.

"He thinks he's presidential timber," Jones said. "But all he's shown us is arrogance."

"He obviously has lived a sheltered life," said Leonard Atkins, president of the Boston NAACP.

"He's completely disconnected with reality in terms of racial sensitivity. He just does not get it."
Romney's spokesman, Eric Fehrnstrom, said the governor was describing "a sticky situation."

"He was unaware that some people find the term objectionable and he's sorry if anyone's offended," Fehrnstrom said.

White House spokesman Tony Snow sparked similar criticism in May when he used the term in response to a question about government surveillance.

© Copyright 2006 Associated Press. All rights reserved.

Lost

2006-07-24T16:32:00.000-04:00

For the next couple of weeks I am going to be housesitting for my parents. They have only lived in this house for a few months. I had the choice of sleeping in the guest room or their room. I choose their room because the guest room only has a full size bed which is far too small for my nearly 6’5” body. They have a king, so it fits just right.

I had packed a bag with everything I would need for the next two weeks clothes, shoes, toiletries, lube. Later when I was at work I realized I left the lube out on the nightstand when I was unpacking. I felt a little strange, but no one would be there to see and there was nothing I could do about it at that moment.

When I got I put the lube back into my bag just to ease my mind. Elbert called me to say he would meet me at the T station in 20 minuets. I grabbed my wallet, but I couldn’t find me car keys. I loose my keys at least once a week, but I am used to living in a three-room apartment, the places they could be are limited. In their house there was much more ground to cover and recover. I retraced my steps through the garage into the family room, up the stairs to the kitchen where I emptied my pockets, into the bathroom, then the bedroom. No keys. Back to the family room under the sofa, then the kitchen, checked the office even though I wasn’t in there, back to the bedroom. I was stumped. Maybe they fell under the bed and couldn’t see them, because the hideous dust ruffle my mother has. I stuck my head under the bed. The keys weren’t there, however the bottle of lubed had some how fallen under bed. I reached for the bottle. KY warming liquid? This isn’t mine!

Most Beautiful Moment

2006-07-21T14:41:00.000-04:00

After I saw this the first time I was shattered for the rest of the day, I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since.

A Big No for Miss Cho

2006-07-17T12:51:00.000-04:00

On Friday my friend Maureen and I went to see Margaret Cho at Dartmouth College. I was a looking forward to the show. I have been a fan of Margaret’s for years, but have never seen her in person.

Dartmouth College is the small town of Hanover in northern New Hampshire on the Vermont border. This town is a Norman Rockwell wet dream, very picturesque, filled with false liberalism, and no minorities unless they are students of course, but if you think they’ll sell property to them, think again.

To get to the theater we had to walk through the foyer of the main campus building, Maureen pointed out all on the rainbow flags on the student mailboxes. Great the place will be overrun with earthy lesbians, I thought. When we took our seats I realized I wasn’t far from wrong. “If I have to sit next to some patchouli stinking hippie, I am going to be very unhappy,” I told Maureen as I tried to fold my legs in a way that would make them fit in the extremely small space that was provide for them.

Margaret started the show with some new material about 2 minutes worth. After that it was nothing but jokes and stories I’d heard before, some classic others not so classic. It was like listening to a bad Greatest Hits package from a great band. The show had no direction or continuity. It barley lasted an hour we drove longer then that to get there.

Although I laughed and thought most of it was funny she wasn’t able to make a real connection with the audience. Never once did I think the whole room was with her. Maybe jokes about urban gay men aren’t as funny to a mostly affluent white community in the middle of nowhere as they are to boys in Ptown.

If there was such thing as an honorary homo Margaret would be one, however I can’t help resent it when she refers to the gay community as “our community”. She said, (paraphrasing) “ If you laugh your ass off at Will and Grace, but you’re against gay marriage then fuck you. You don’t get to pick and choose what part of our community you like and don’t like.” Which of course I agree with, but at the end of the day she is a straight woman who can get married. She is still just a guest in “our” community. I would never assume I know what it’s like to be in ethnic minority by saying “my people”, please don’t do the same to me.

Not So Funny.

2006-07-12T16:58:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I wonder why my sense of humor is so strange, then after one conversation with my mother I wonder no more. My parents have a place in Maine, where they spend most weekends in the summer. It is very close to a place we used to camp when my sister and I were young.

When we were on vacation almost with out fail someone in my family would end up getting rushed to the emergency room. We were at the hospital often enough that some of nurses knew us by name. “Oh the Dow family is here. What is it this time, third degree sunburn, spider bite, broken arm, bee sting, swimmers ear? No? You split your head open with an ax, Ok the Dr. will be right with you.” My father was the one who split his head open. I wasn’t there and was told my mother didn’t throw the ax at him, that he got it caught in a clothesline while he was splitting wood, but I am not sure I believe that.

A couple of years ago my father whacked his hand metal door handle. He hit it just hard enough to break the skin and cause bleeding. Not an injury bad enough to land you in the hospital, that is until he woke in the middle of the night to find his forearm had swollen to twice it’s normal size with large red lines running down the length of his arm. Off to the hospital he and my mother went. I am sure they argued the entire way about which was the best route to take and if he was actually over reacting to the pain and should have waited till morning.

As it turned out he had contracted an infection in the cut, overnight it had formed a cyst. The emergency room doctor put him on antibiotics and sent him home to see his primary physician. He was then referred to a surgeon to remove the cyst. God love the HMO’s. My father joked with surgeon about loosing his finger. Un-amused the doctor told my told him he would worry about his finger when he was sure he could save his whole hand. There are few things that spoil a joking mood like the loss of a hand. Luckily after a week in the hospital and surgery the surgeon was able to save his hand with his finger intact.

This past Saturday was my mothers turn for a health scare. That morning she slept a couple of hours later then is usual, like most people post 50 she is up a the crack of dawn. When she woke up her left arm was numb and she was feeling light headed. She thought she was having a heart attack. My father immediately went in to panic mode. He was able to get it together long enough to get an ambulance to take them to the hospital. This time he didn’t argue with her. Less then a week before they’d attended a funeral for a classmate who had dropped dead of a heart attack. He was a year younger then my mother.

In the emergency room she was hooked up to a heart monitor, she had tubes coming out of everywhere as she put it. My aunt and uncle who camp next to my parents came to the hospital to see if there was anything they could do. “I am the only person I know who gets visitors in the emergency room,” she told me chuckling.

The doctors tested her for everything they could and found nothing wrong, not even the stress test showed anything. The doctor told her it was probably nothing, just to be on the safe side he would monitor her overnight.

She was admitted they were able to give her a private room, no thanks to her HMO. Unable to take my father’s moping any longer she sent him back to camp with my aunt.

Her nurse came to take her dinner order and off handedly told her a priest was at in the building and asked if she’d like to see him.

“Priest?! I guess.”

The priest came and administered last rites.

The nurse came back. “Would you like to fill out a Do Not Resuscitate order?”

“What for? Am I dining and on one has told me?” again chuckling.

“Not that I know, but we have to ask everyone,” not chuckling.

“Can you believe it she asked me for a DNR right after I got last rites?” My mother thought this was hysterical.

She laughed when she told my grandmother. She laughed when she told my aunt. She laughed when she told me. When she told my father she laughed hardest. All he said was, “Maureen it will be a long time before I can laugh about this.” He walked away in a huff. She laughed again.

Carolla vs. Coulter

2006-07-10T09:20:00.000-04:00

In case you missed this with all of the World Cup Fever this weekend someone finally severed Ann Coulter a big glass of shut the fuck up.

She had been over an hour late calling into Adam Carolla’s radio show, when she started to complain about how she was pressed for time he added a couple free of minutes to her day by hanging up on her. Here a link to a transcript and an MP3 of the conversation.

Hey, Ann the when someone invites you to be on their show to help you sell one of your bullshit books, maybe next time you’ll be a bit a little less of a bitch. Oh and Ann a turtle next will help cover that Adams apple with no problem.

Note: Here is the link I forgot. So sorry.

Viva Italia!

2006-07-09T20:47:00.000-04:00

This has been one of the best weeks to be living in Boston. When I lived away I would often lament the types of events I have been able to attend this week.

On the 4th is hands down my favorite day of the year to be in the city. This town takes it’s history and it’s roll in it very seriously. All the stops come out when it comes to celebrating our countries independence. When I lived on the west coast every 4th I was home in time to see the broadcast of the Boston fireworks on A&E.

Today’s treat was something unexpected. I had lunch with a friend in Boston’s South End. Being a typical American I didn’t realize today was the Word Cup final between Italy and France. We had lunch in a small pub where we were lucky to get a table. Nether of us could figure out why they were as busy as they were, but about 10 minutes of us sitting down the game started. The people who came in after us were turned away.

The only things I know about soccer are thick legs are very hot and the rest of the world goes insane for it. Justin however had played all through high school. He explained the things that were happening while we watched and ate. After a couple of beers we the place was getting crowded we decided to take a walk.

We walked around for about an hour before we got a block away from City Hall Plaza. We could hear a large crowd and saw people start to run past us. When we got close enough see the plaza, we could see the jumbo screen showing the game with thousands of people watching like a giant open air pub. There were both French and Italian flags waving above the crowd. The crowd was cheering and yelling like we were in Berlin watching in person. We stayed and watched the last half hour to see Italy win it. During the game I yelled, I cheered, I clapped, but mostly because I was happy to see Boston at it’s best.

Independence and Sex

2006-07-06T20:16:00.000-04:00

The love the 4th of July. Celebrating our countries independence in one of it's oldest cities is something not everyone get's to do, but they should do it once. Bostonian's take this holiday very seriously.

Every year my friend Sue and her family have a tailgate party at an office building in Cambridge. The party is always a mixture of her family, extended family, new and old friends, and friends of friends. When I lived away I missed this party like I now miss Halloween in LA.

I don't get to see these people very often which makes this party even more special. They always serve more food and beer then everyone can eat or drink. About and hour before the fireworks we walk up to the Longfellow Bridge to watch the fireworks display. After the fireworks back to the lot for another sandwich while the traffic dies down.

Sue and her husband have been together for 10 years. I gave her my congratulations and told her how jealous was she had a great relationship, while I was still single. She explained it wasn't as great as it looks 'cause every time you want to have sex you just look at him and think, "That again?". So much for love.

When we left Sue was our designated driver. While driving with my friends after a couple of drinks, I feel the need to point out the places in the city where I have had sex.

"Hey, I've had sex in that hotel."

"Oh, I've heard it's nice there, how was it?"

"It was better then nice. It was great, too bad he lives in Dallas."

"I meant the hotel, Scott."

ÂOh, I donÂt remember.Â

Sex toy bill remains in House subcommittee

2006-06-28T10:55:00.000-04:00

This was taken from WIS Channel 10 web site in Columbia, SC.

Another reason for my gay ass to stay the hell out of the south. And you may want to rethink what your packing when you go to visit your Mom.

May 19, 2006 - A sex toy ban has already happened in Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, and Texas. South Carolina could be next on that list.

For 27 years Pat Irons has made a living selling "creams and lotions, massaging oils" and other things we won't repeat.

In Irons' opinion, "We don't consider it an X-rated book store."
But what she does at Sugar and Spice in West Columbia could become a felony. Irons says, "I think it would hurt a lot of marriages."

A bill by Upstate Representative Ralph Davenport would make it illegal to sell devices used for sexual stimulation.

Davenport admits he doesn't even know what a sex toy is. Nor does he have a strong opinion about them. The bill, he says, will help the people he represents.
If the bill passes selling sex toys would be a felony. The punishment would be five years in prison and/or a $10,000 fine.

"Mark" tells WIS, "I think that's a tool for a relationship, for satisfaction. I think the government has no business in my bedroom."

Julianne Wolfe, on the other hand, says, "Something that was pornographic or involved children that wasn't Biblical, I would have a problem."

Shirley Martin has different priorities, "I wouldn't even consider it. I would be moving on to finding food for children."

The bill sits in a House subcommittee. So at least for now what sells behind the doors of Sugar and Spice is legal.

Reported by Maggie Alexander

Posted 10:04pm by Chantelle Janelle

I Don’t Speak Indonesian

2006-06-26T16:25:00.000-04:00

This weekend I was out to a local gay club, by local I mean it’s not in Boston, by not in Boston I mean it caters to the tragic suburban gays, by tragic I mean a drag queen wearing black stockings and white shoes in a dress that was trying to hard to be Bob Mackie, but failing miserably.

My friend Maureen and sat at the bar taking in the local color while playing a game of guess my gender. This bar is in Haverhill about 5 miles from New Hampshire a butch lesbian paradise. This place is so close to the flannel line if you if it weren’t for the facial hair you wouldn’t be able to tell the bears from the womynn.

Maureen was telling me about her plans go home to Indonesia next Fall. She had a new nephew born this past Spring, she is very excited to see him and the rest of her relatives that still live in Jakarta.

“Do you want to come, when I go home?”

“I dunno, are there gay bars there?”

“Yeah, of course that’s where I hang out. Boys will be falling all over when they find out your Americana.”

“Great it will be like LA all over again. Little Asian men following me around night cubs asking me questions like, ‘Is everything proportionate?’ or “Do you speak Tagalog?”

Ok, I know I’m idiot of asking that question but I was bout 4 beers into it by that time and the idea of traveling to a country in Asia has always scared me. It isn’t because Indonesia is the largest Muslim majority country in the world and I’m a Gay American. It isn’t because I am afraid if I get hurt I will end up in a scary Third World hospital. It’s because I am afraid of being the tallest person for miles, sort of a walking sideshow. I have visions of people pointing and laughing at me.

Now you think I’m even more of an idiot and your probably right.

“Does your family speak English?”

“Yes. If we go you just have to learn a few Indonesian words. It's very easy not like English.”

“Like dalma?”

“What?”

“Dalma.”

“That’s not an Indonesian word.”

“Yeah it is. It was on that package of noodles you gave me.”

“You’re crazy.”

An hour goes by, more drinks are served.

“Is it dolmas?”

“Are you back to that again?”

“Yeah, dolmas that’s it.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t come.”

Where'd Ya Go!

2006-06-23T12:04:00.000-04:00

I am here and everything is fine. Fine might not be the correct word for it, dull would be much more accurate. There hasn’t been much happening in my life since my last post. The biggest news is that I have managed not to get laid off in past few weeks. In a life that has seen little in the way of things that resemble achievement I will take that as a top 10.

In the past few weeks I each time I have tried to post to my blog I have had some sort of computer issue or Blogger has been down for maintenance. Usually when I write my posts I use MS Works, which is the worst program on the planet. It regularly has a performance error while it’s running causing it to shut down without warning and without saving what I had written. I know from reading this you probably envisioned me as a cool, calm and collected individual, but the fact of the matter is I have inherited a bit of my fathers explosive temper. The last time I lost a post I a started to pound on the keyboard of my laptop much like a 2 year old in a highchair demanding to be fed. This is something I wouldn’t recommend it cost me $150 in repairs and two weeks of internet porn. It was touch and go for a few days.

Now that I have my computer back I will be posting more often.

I Had A Bad Day

2006-06-02T23:53:00.000-04:00

I just spent two hours working on a post that chronicled how yesterday sucked ass (not in the good way) then my computer crashed and took the post with it. Here is the Cliff Notes version.

My work project ended.

Out of no where I got laid off. Not only did I get laid off, but I was told I had to come into the office the next day to fill out and collect the paperwork I would need for my 401K and COBRA. There was no mention of my final paycheck which is in violation of employment laws.

Me shocked and very angry.

Went on a date with the guy I hadn't connected with a week and a half ago. He was nice, cute, smart and liked him. After the date was over I went back to the lot he assured me was OK for me to park in to find that my car had been towed.

Surprised myself that I managed not to have a breakdown.

Called the towing company to have them give me their address and for them to tell me it would be $120 get my car back, that's cash only.

Still holding it together.

The date told me he knew where the towing company was, but after driving around for a while it turns out he had no idea of the location.

I managed not to inflict any bodily harm, he was cute after all and offered to pay for half.

He called the towing company again to get the address. Got my car back, the date gave me a thinly veiled invitation for sex. I accepted.

After sex, which was pretty good got lost going home. I surprised to find how quickly I was escorted to the door. I hadn't foreseen the walk of shame.

The drive that should have taken 30 minutes turned into an hour, because Boston sucks.

This morning tired and hungover I called to set up my appointment with the HR Manger to get my paper work.

Thirty minutes later get a call from my boss saying they have a project for me and asked me if I could come into work now. Managed not to laugh in his face, but told him I would be in on Monday.

God I think I need another drink.

On Point

2006-05-26T21:24:00.000-04:00

Tonight I was listening to the rebroadcast of On Point on WBR the local NPR station. Today Tom Ashbrook talked to former soldiers from Iraq and Afghanistan. The discussion was about the how soldiers are dealing with the loss of their fellow soldiers. They discuss deals with the militaries culture, how they view themselves, and their ideas on the war they are fighting.

It’s a perspective you never get to hear. The discussion is raw and emotional. If you haven’t had an opportunity to hear it you really owe it yourself and to them to give it a listen. There is a link below.

http://www.onpointradio.org/shows/2006/05/20060526_b_main.asp

The Player Gets Played

2006-05-21T20:06:00.000-04:00

Yesterday night I was supposed to have a date, with a guy I had met online. We chatted a couple of times, exchanged phone numbers, and decided we would meet on Saturday night after I got out of work. I am a bit fuzzy on who was supposed to call who, at least that is the story I am sticking with.

After the last time we spoke on Friday I got a text message from another friend I hook up with from time to time. He wanted me to come down to his house after work for a romp, which he will never come right out and say, it’s always “Let’s Hang Out”. He was disappointed to find I had dinner plans that night. He suggested we “Hang Out” on Sunday. We would “Hang Out” in more then just the euphemistic sense.

When I got out of work in Saturday I waited for the call from my date. He didn’t call me. I didn’t call him. Instead of the date I spent the night cleaning my apartment to prepare for “Hanging Out”, washed the sheets cleaned the bathroom.

This morning I got up earlier then usual so I could get my errands done. At 10:30 I text messaged my friend to ask him when he was coming to my house. He didn’t answer. An hour later I saw him log on to AIM I IMed him to find out when I could expect him. He didn’t answer. At 1:30 I called him and left a message. He didn’t call me back.

Now it’s the end of the weekend I’ve had no date and didn’t get laid. I probably got what I deserve.

WIll the Rain Ever Stop?

2006-05-15T20:13:00.000-04:00

It has been raining here for almost a week. When the rain started I was excited because it was suppressing the pollen and lessening the danger of fires. But it’s been raining so hard for so long we are having the worst flooding since the ‘30’s.

The area of the state I live in has been hit the hardest, followed by the area my office is located. The main square in Peabody (pee-bah-dee), the town next to mine, is under 4 feet of water. There have been evacuations all over northern Massachusetts and Southern New Hampshire. Several major roads are closed because of flooding. My usual 40 min commute was extended to 2 hours this morning.

The worst may be yet to come. My office is across the street from the Merrimack River the biggest river north of Boston. The river is expected to crest at midnight. Many houses on the river in have been evacuated from Manchester, New Hampshire to Newburyport, MA. If the river does overflow it’s banks my office will only be accessible by rowboat.

I will be looking forward to the free day off.

The Apple Never Falls Far From The Tree

2006-05-14T21:00:00.000-04:00

Today I brought my mother her mother’s day gift. It was a lovely azalea planted in a glass box, which she will surly kill. She was very happy with the gift all the same.

We sat in the kitchen and chatted for a bit. Recently my parents moved back to the town we are from, they joined my grandmother’s parish. My mother told me they had been to mass on Saturday with the cotton heads and how communion on Saturday takes forever.

She went on to say how great it was for them to be in a new church where they new so many people. They had run into some old friends at mass.

“We saw the P’s yesterday too.”

“Really how are they?”

“Good, Good. Well you’d never recognize Jimmy he’s so old. Martha looks just the same. They were with their daughters. You’d never recognize them either. The older one has a couple of kids, married. They are both so thin and even pretty.”

“That’s good.”

“Well you remember how fat, hairy, and ugly they were.”

Then Rains Came. And It Was Good.

2006-05-10T10:54:00.000-04:00

Today is the first day in weeks I feel like myself. I didn’t wake up in with a mouth full of dry phlegm, I don’t have a sinus headache or body aches. It’s been raining for past day and a half. The rain filters the pollen out of the air giving all of us allergy sufferers a day of relief.

Now that I feel better I’d like to go do something outside, but I can’t ‘cause it’s raining.

'Cinco to drinko?' Not for me, amigo

2006-05-05T11:21:00.000-04:00

'Cinco to drinko?' Not for me, amigo

By Marcela E. Garcia, Globe Correspondent April 30, 2006

Cinco de Mayo is here again. Even after almost six years in Boston, I'm still astonished to see excited packs of ''gringos" flock to bars to drink Corona and margaritas or plan elaborate fiestas complete with tequila, guacamole, and nachos con salsa on May 5. The partygoers wonder why I don't celebrate, too; after all, I'm Mexican.

It may surprise some to learn that Cinco de Mayo is not even a federal holiday in México. Banks and government offices are open. Restaurant menus remain the same. And companies don't splurge on ad campaigns named ''Cinco to Drinko" featuring talking piñatas.

Another misconception is that May 5 is our Independence Day. We actually observe that on Sept. 15. That's when our president goes out on a balcony at the Palacio Nacional before thousands.

Then he waves our flag and shouts ''¡Viva México!"

That's when I bring out the Corralejo (my choice of tequila; and no, we don't drink Patrón). .
Back to Cinco de Mayo: it commemorates La Batalla de Puebla (The Battle of Puebla), the 1862 rout of 8,000 French soldiers by a ragtag army of 4,000 Mexicans.

This was quite a big deal. An upstart nation defeating a heavily armed invasion force from one of the great powers of Europe.

Though the victory infused Mexicans with pride, the French triumphed a little more than a year later to set up a brief puppet government.

The symbolic value and spirit of the Puebla victory was resuscitated in the 1950s, as Chicanos (Mexican-Americans) in California and Texas began celebrating Cinco de Mayo.

Then, alas, beer companies and big advertising spending recognized the day's marketing potential. I know we Mexicans aren't alone bemoaning hijacked holidays: an Irish friend of mine says the same thing happened here to St. Patrick's Day.

However, as part of the rather small Mexican community in Massachusetts (approximately 50,000, according to the consulate in Boston), I feel the urge to set the record straight: there is much more to Cinco de Mayo --and my home country-- than Dos Equis and sombreros one day of the year.

Which is why I'll spend next Friday night just like any other day of the week: cooking with my two Mexican roommates in Brighton, watching the Univisión newscast, and talking on the phone with my mother and sisters about my week.

Marcela E. Garcia is a reporter for the Spanish-language weekly newspaper El Planeta, which circulates in the Boston area.

Let Them Eat Crepes

2006-04-29T12:29:00.000-04:00

It’s not often that I cook and if I do cook I certainly don’t cook for over 40 people. Yesterday my office had a ‘potluck’ day. Every one had the choice bringing something for breakfast or lunch. I chose to make crepes for breakfast. Which was much easier then it sounds and they are oh so yummy. As a typical queen I did go a bit overboard.

The crepes were stuffed with either Nutella or a sweet cheese mixture and topped with fresh whipped cream. The crepes were made from a mix. Persian Guy asked me to post the recipe for the stuffing.

1 Pkg. (8 oz) cream cheese
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup sour cream
1/3 cup sugar
3 cups strawberries, sliced (or blueberries) optional

Beat cream cheese, brown sugar, and sour cream in bowl until smooth. Fold in fruit.

Spring Is Here . . . Achoo!

2006-04-29T12:06:00.000-04:00

New England is one of the only places in the country that has 4 separate and distinct seasons. Spring is my least favorite season of the year. Even though I love the tulips, the daffodils, and the anticipation of the warmer weather I spend most of this time of the year sick.

I read an article on Friday that said this is going to be one of the worst allergy seasons in recent memory, which isn’t good news when you are allergic to just about everything green that grows in the dirt. Every morning I have woken up with a mouthful of dry phlegm. Today I feel like I have sand in lungs. My whole body is achy like I have the flu, but I don’t have a fever. Just getting through the work day has been a chore.

I think I am going to start looking into moving to Arizona.

Q & A

2006-04-24T22:41:00.000-04:00

I have a new answer to the question: Where is the strangest place you’re had sex?

This week end was invited for some fun in an office. Sex in an office is always great, so I couldn’t say no. Its hot not only for the venue factor but the thought of the next time your partner is sitting at his desk remembering what you were doing on his desk. If you haven’t tried it I recommend you do it. If you are reading this go grab a partner and get back to me. Yes I mean now!

See? I told you.

I did think it was strange that he was in his office a 10 pm on a Saturday night, that thought was quick to leave me as soon as I realized his office was in the rectory of an Episcopal church. He didn’t mention it during out “conversation”. It felt a little strange, but not strange enough for me to turn around.

It turns out that he is the choral director at the church, not a priest. He has practice on Saturday, sometimes he spends the night in his office because he lives about 50 miles away. I met him on one of those nights.

He brought me to his office were we did the deed in a room with two windows and no curtains.
Because this is me, this wasn’t the strangest part of the evening. After we finished. I made the mistake of telling him I was Catholic. As my luck would have it he had decided to convert to Catholicism.

I spent the next 30 minuets listing to his views on the problems with the Anglican Church, Bishop Gene Robinson, the ordination of women, and how democratization of the Anglican Church will be it’s downfall. He was becoming Catholic because he felt the new pope had great vision and would lead the church back to grace it was in before Vatican II. He went on to explain the perpetrators of the Catholic sex abuse scandal can be traced back to ordination class of 1968 the year before V. II. Are you fucking kidding me?

Yes, this is what I deserve for getting a blow job in a church.

Gay.com Hates Me

2006-04-20T20:25:00.000-04:00

A little over a year a go I got a new wireless gateway, because my roommate and I went our separate ways Since I've had the new gateway I can't get on to Gay.com. Everything loads the way it should, but the communication window just says it’s connecting and it doesn’t.

I have had this problem for the entire time I've been using the gateway. Customer service at Motorola was no help, customer service at Gay.com was no help either. The standard answer I got was, "If you are using Windows XP you need to download Java."

"Well no shit, you are the fourth person I've talked to and the fourth person who's said the same thing. It's not helping"

Ok I didn't say that, but I thought it.

Has anyone had a similar problem? Coincidently the IM function on Manhunt.net hasn't worked either.

Half Nekkid-Thursday

2006-04-19T22:12:00.000-04:00

Oh My God

2006-04-19T08:58:00.000-04:00

Oh My God, Oh My God!!

Have you heard, Have you heard.

Tom Cruise and his latest beard, ah I mean girlfriend had their first baby!!

Oh my god.

And would you believe that Brooke Shields had her new baby on the very same day. Isn't that ironic or is it coincidence? I'm not sure, I am just so excited, oh my god!

Today is one of those days that I am so happy I don't live in LA anymore.

Please Pass the Ham

2006-04-16T01:00:00.000-04:00

On Friday I bought a leg of lamb for Easter Sunday. My plan was to grill it so I would have something to eat at the dinner my sister is hosting. Why would I bring my own food to meal that I was invited to? It’s because my sister is keeping the family tradition of severing ham on Easter. I hate ham. And I have always hated ham. In my family if you don’t like what’s being served there are no previsions made for you your expected to just tough it out. We're not running a restaurant you know.

When I lived on the west coast I wouldn’t come home for Easter. The first year I was back living in Massachusetts my mother hosted Easter dinner.

“Why are you just eating salad and rolls.?”

“I told you I don't like ham.”

“I know but I didn’t think you wouldn’t eat it.”

"Don’t worry I ate before I came.”

“Do you always have to be so difficult?

“Ugh!”

These are the only people I have ever met who would invite to their house for dinner then sever you something they know you don’t like.

After that conversation I stared to bring my own main course to dinner on Easter. It was an easy fix to a ridiculous problem. This year I was planning on the lamb. I really like lamb and so does my sister’s family. My mother on the other hand hates it, but she will have her ham, I will have my lamb everyone is happy.

This morning I took the lamb out of the freezer put it in the fridge to defrost and thought how tasty it would be on Sunday. I called my sister to make sure she had enough gas in her gas grill to cook the lamb.

“I already got a lamb”

“On Tuesday you told me we were having ham.”

“Not everybody likes ham, Scott.”

“Ugh!”

Red Bean Paste Ball

2006-04-14T14:39:00.000-04:00

These are my latest food obsession. It is a fried dough ball with red bean paste inside. According to what I’ve read they can usually be found at Chinese bakery. They are very popular around Chinese New Year.

Outside fried part is a very thin dough, nothing like the fried dough you would get at an American fair, although it is just as greasy. Inside is just at bit of bean paste considering the pastries size. The sweetness of the beans is very subtle, but the texture may be a bit odd if you are unfamiliar with Asian deserts. However if you can get past that you are in for a real treat.

YUM!!

Half Nekkid-Thursday

2006-04-12T23:25:00.000-04:00

Jail Bars Brokeback Viewing

2006-04-08T23:15:00.000-04:00

I almost never read a hard copy newspaper. Most of the news I get from NPR, MSMBC and Boston.com (the Boston Globe's web site). On occasion I would read the Metro on the train when I worked in Cambridge.

Today a coworker had left a copy of the Boston Herald behind. Below is a copy of todays front page. A slow news day, you may think but looking at the headline. The answer is not really, the Herald is just our local tabloid.

Jail bars brokeback viewing: Warden turns movie off, didn't want cons turned on

By Michele McPhee and Emma Ratliff
Saturday, April 8, 2006

A by-the-book warden pulled the plug during a jailhouse showing of the controversial gay-cowboy movie "Brokeback Mountain" yesterday, fearing the film's steamy scenes violated the facility's no-movie-sex policy.

Faster than you could say, "I wish I knew how to quit you," inmates at MCI-Norfolk found their afternoon matinee ended just 10 minutes before the Academy Award-winning movie's ending.

The cons were assembled in the gym yesterday afternoon to watch the film about a love affair between two gay cowboys and their trysts on an isolated mountainside - that is, until a prison official shut it off.

However, the prisoners did get to hear the line uttered by the cowboys' boss, "You boys sure found a way to make the time pass," when he happened upon the sheepherders after a heated tumble in the grass, which he likened to leaving "the dogs babysittin" the sheep while you stem the rose."

Trying to prevent prisoners from making "the time pass" by engaging in cellblock sex is one of the most serious problems correction officers face, said Ken Ferullo, vice president of the Massachusetts Correction Officers Federated Union.

"We don't need to foster that kind of atmosphere in there. It already exists. These guys are alone together, some of them forever," Ferullo said. "We're already running "Brokeback prison."

Yesterday, Department of Correction spokeswoman Diane Wiffin acknowledged that screening "sexually explicit material" violates the agency's rules and said the employee who approved the film will be "disciplined through the proper channels."

"Norfolk does not allow the viewing of films with sexual content or violence against prison guards," Wiffin said.

There is a large population of prisoners at MCI-Norfolk who are unlikely to ever have physical contact with anyone but another man while serving life sentences, including:

Convicted killer Michelle Lynne Kosilek, whose name was Bob when he strangled his wife Cheryl to death in 1990. Kosilek successfully sued to get a sex-change operation and takes taxpayer-funded female hormones. The inmate is now demanding a nose job and laser hair removal.

School shooter Wayne Lo, the man who went on a shooting rampage at a college in western Massachusetts, killing two and wounding four others.

Kenneth Seguin, who slashed his two children into bits and bludgeoned his wife to death in 1992.
Lifers Group Inc. cofounder James Cyr, who stabbed the mother of his baby daughter eight times, doused her with gasoline, and set her ablaze. Cyr helps host Christmas parties for other convicted killers at the jail.

"It's absolutely unbelievable the system could let this happen," Ferullo said. "They did this just to make the prisoners happy."

DOC officials said MCI-Norfolk has a contract with a video agency that licenses films for prison viewing purposes. The movies are then piped into inmates' personal cells or to small viewing areas throughout the prison - including the gym.

"Brokeback Mountain," which was banned in the Bahamas and mainland China, was released on video this week. Upon its release, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops' Office for Film and Broadcasting called the film "morally offensive."

I checked Boston.com, there didn't seem to be a similar article published in the Globe. However MSNBC did, but it's much less offensive.

Half-Nekkid Thursday

2006-04-06T18:30:00.000-04:00

Been Away From the Blog

2006-04-05T21:40:00.000-04:00

Why have I been away from the blog you ask? It’s because my life is so damn dull that I have had nothing to write about, more accurately I haven’t felt like doing it.

I am totally stressed out looking for a new place. There seems to be very little available in the market right now. Everything that I have looked at has either been really small or it’s been a total dump. It’s shocking to see what some landlords expect tenants to live in. The place I looked at today had a carpet that was at least 40 years old. It was coming up in so many place I tripped when I walked into the bedroom, even worse was the electrical tape holding down the linoleum in the kitchen. The only redeeming quality was the bathroom was huge. I may end-up staying here another month and looking for the end of May.

In other news a former boyfriend was in town for the past couple of days. We dated when we both lived in LA, he currently lives in NYC. It was great to see him. We had dinner both nights he was here.

Our relationship has been over for more then 4 years, for the past six months he has been dating the same guy. He looked good and from the way he talks seems very happy although he doesn’t care much for living in NYC. He is more of an mall shopping, SUV driving kind of guy living in West Hollywood you can still have those things. In NYC, not so much. He is the process of deciding what his next move will be.

It’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen him. His as good looking I remember him to be. He is also just as odd. He works in IT and any who knows anything about people in IT, most of them are a little off. Off in an engineering sort of way, way to much time spent think about how things work and felling superior to others to don’t share the same knowledge.

When I got to he hugged. I sat down on one of the beds in the room, then laid say ways with my arm propping me up. Both of my feet were on the floor. He finished getting his things together to leave.

We chatted about his family, what they were up to, where they were all living and so on. Then he came to sit down on the same bed I was on laying the same way but facing me. We continued our conversation.

Then suddenly and mid-sentence he looks at me then at himself. He abruptly gets up and moves to the other bed to sit up right and continues with what he was saying.
I know it’s a bit sick, but it felt good to know just being that close to me made him just a little uncomfortable.

Half-Nekkid Thursday

2006-03-29T22:16:00.000-05:00

I Hate Texting

2006-03-29T21:27:00.000-05:00

“I wish I was fucking U now.”

“hot thought.”

“not interested”

“then why did you say you wish you were”

“it was a question. R U not interested?”

“Im always interested”

“what R U doing 2nite?”

“sleeping I am about to pass out”

“ahh OK”

No Hugs Please

2006-03-28T15:55:00.000-05:00

While chatting with another blogger yesterday he said he asked me if I have been in a relationship longer then a year. When I told him the answer was no he said he didn’t think I had. How did he come this conclusion since I have actually met this person in the flesh? He told me he didn’t think I was emotionally available because I didn’t like to hug.

Now I don’t have a real aversion to hugging just a slight one. There are a couple of reasons that I have a problem. The first is that my family is Irish. We are not a huggy kissy people. We are let’s get drunk and fight kind of people. There was very little hugging going around with my extended family. Even now if I go to hug one of my aunts or cousins I get a “ what the hell are you doing” look first followed by an awkward negotiation of the proper way to touch with out offending the other person.

The other reason is when I was young my parents belonged to a few very charismatic religious organizations, the groups were either Catholic or non-denominational. These people were the hippies that found Jesus. Their friends were always hugging me, even when I didn’t know them very well or had just met them. When I was about thirteen I tried to put an end to the practice by offering my hand when I was met with someone with their arms out stretched. It never worked they always slapped it away with a “come here give me a hug”. All I could do was stand there waiting for it to be over. They always grabbed me like they were going to wrestle the life out of my poor skinny body. I would be just catching my breath from the first offender only to be faced with about 30 more.

Through the miracle of time and many hours of therapy I have overcome this problem. But I still do a tuck and roll when anyone moves toward me to quickly at a potluck dinner.

Happy Birthday to Me

2006-03-26T21:08:00.000-05:00

Today I turn 35, yikes. The truth is, the number is a far less scary then my actual life. For the past five years I have felt like a leaf drifting in the wind, never really touching the ground, never settling, just drifting, falling and completely oblivious.

Living back in MA only makes this feeling worse. Everyone around me seems to be moving on, buying homes and having children. My life in comparison seems unimportant, dull and pale. Getting up in the morning and making it to work doesn’t feel like such an accomplishment even thought it feels like everything I have in me to be able to do it.

Last night I went in to Boston to a gay bar for the first time for nearly 2 years. What I was hoping would make me feel better only made me feel worse. There is something about this city that I can’t figure out. There seems to be some unwritten code about what night each place is busy, and an age range or each. It’s something I haven’t been able to learn nor have cared to learn.

It feels like I am living between two worlds completely unable to commit to ether, or to afraid to just be one. I feel like I have been just faking it in the straight world when I should be doing something more gay. There has been a lot of sex, but that is my only real contact with gay people.

I thought that moving into the city in a more gay area would make me happier but every that is out of the questions because everything is to expensive or just to far from where I need to be.

Being 35 makes me feel I should be more settled with this issues maybe I will just have to wait until 36.

Half-Nekkid Thursday

2006-03-23T19:15:00.000-05:00

Hot As Hell!

2006-03-22T19:55:00.000-05:00

A co-worker of mine gave a bottle of this hot sauce last week, it's by far the hottest sauce I have had. The sauce is made in Indonesia from pure chilli peppers. It's not the type of flavor that is so hot you can't taste anything else, it has a great flavor. It will make you want more or as much as you can handle with the sweat from your brow is dripping into your eyes.

I have only had it on chicken fingers so far (yes I am that low rent). However I think it would be perfect for pho or any other Asian soup.

Caution: It burns coming out almost as it dose going in.

My Life As The Gay Boyfriend

2006-03-21T10:49:00.000-05:00

All of my life I have had more female friends then male. Actually that’s only half true most of my life I have only had female friends until I was an adult is much more accurate.

I am sure there is some Freudian explanation for this, overbearing and dominating older sister making me play with dolls, overbearing and dominating sister making me wear a dress when I was a child, overbearing and dominating sister making me paint her toenails, or maybe I just don’t like men.

It wasn’t until my mid twenties that I actually had any male friends of my own to speak of, but even then the time I spent with the was limited. They were either work friends or gay roommates that were so boring that it took at least 3 mimosas to dull my brain enough to listen to dissertations on which tank top is appropriate for which occasion or tuck, un-tuck, or half-tuck the three most misunderstood words in the English language.

Women always seem to make more sense to me I have never been the type of man that has a problem figure out what a woman means when by what she is saying. And for the most part I totally get the whole PMS thing (by get I mean understand nor actually get or a least I hope I’m not that gay), however I don’t want to hear about your parts and how they work.

None of this seemed to be a problem till my friend Cathy crossed the line on this weekend. Cathy and I have known each other since we were children. Our families camped at the same campground. She knows my whole family and I know hers. We hadn’t seen each other for years until we ran into each other at my weekend job. She is newly single. We started hanging out regularly since then.

My parents were hosting dinner for some camp friends of ours we hadn’t seen in about 15 years. Wouldn’t it be great if I brought Cathy to dinner with me? Sure fine. Cathy and I showed up late, which allowed the Kings and every one else to catch up before we got there. Now the attention was placed on the two of us, not something that makes me comfortable. After the typical questions of what have you been doing for the past 15 years, Cathy started to talk about how much fun her and I have when we are together.

While I was stilling next to her she put her hand on my knee, stared into my eyes and started to say how great I was. Scott and I have so much fun when were together, he has been so great, I’m glad we connected again and so on.

I started to squirm.

“And how do you feel about Cathy, Scott?” Mrs. King asked.

I scanned the room for help and /or the nearest exit. All I got was my mother giving me the “Go Ahead, Make My Day” look.

“She’s fine,” was about all I could muster as I choked down the rest of my cookies.

When we finally got out of there I told Cathy, “Great now my mother is going be saying novenas for the next month thinking there is hope and the Kings think were dating.”

“But honey you’re not my type.”

Born Again and Fooled Again

2006-03-20T13:55:00.000-05:00

Why are there gay born again Christians and how do they keep finding me?

Last week I met a guy on manhunt, we had a couple of conversations all of which were great. He came off as smart charming and from his pictures pretty good looking. We never talked about sex. I know manhunt right, who would have thought.

He told me he was a cancer survivor. The cancer has been in remission for 3 years. As with most people who have faced this type of adversity it had changed his perspective on life. Now he was seeing more sunsets, spending more time with nature, and volunteering for a hospice. Professionally he’s a physical therapist.

Awww he cares about people.

All of this made my bleeding hart melt. I may have a rough sarcastic exterior, but on the inside I am really just a twelve-year old girl.

During our conversations on line he told me he grew up mostly in rural PA in the Lancaster area. I brought up religion, but just because I wanted to know if he was Mennonite or not. There were points for me for just knowing what it was, turns out he was raised Nazarene. Nazarene is something I am unfamiliar with other then it’s one of the King James version groups.

He told me he was in therapy and this therapist was a Christian lesbian. Since his illness he had made is peace with god. He wasn’t afraid of dieing, surely his house in heaven would have granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances. Even facing death the queens are concerned with the esthetics. Because I have spent most of my life around the extremely religious, this didn’t phase me. It would take us meeting face to face to understand how deep it all ran.

I invited him for dinner. When we met he was true to his pictures, if not better. He was in amazing shape. His very tight t-shirt revealed not only very ripple of his upper body, but also a level of narcissism that is rarely found in New Englanders.

At the restaurant we had dinner he is a regular. One of the bartenders came over to chat with us. She had been injured late last year and needed some advice about continuing her physical therapy. Her insurance was refusing to cover more visits even though her doctor recommended them.

My date gave her what sounded to me like great advice. He was also genuinely concerned with her progress. She must have been impressed as well because half of our bar bill was on the house.

After our second drink he started to tell me about how he had a falling out with his family. He didn’t have any contact with them at all, even the brother that had been his bone marrow donor. Without the bone marrow transplant he wouldn’t have survived the cancer.

As it turns out his bother and mother are also born again, but apparently their gods don’t agree on homosexuality. The mother and brother’s god says no while my dates says yes please!

The tequila made my brain say, “Stay listen, tequila very good”. Normally this is the cue for the door.

He goes on to tell me that he had been church shopping with his former partner. The former partner felt his calling was to teach Sunday school, the partner also had a kindergarten age daughter. They were going to an Episcopal Church that had a woman priest that my date didn’t like. Her sermons weren’t up to his standards, not to mention all the sitting and standing.

“You don’t know when to sit when you stand.”

So naturally they went church shopping. How this isn’t really religion shopping I don’t know but these are his words not mine, however he did explain this by saying it’s about god not religion.

Yeah, right.

They eventually found a church that my date could live with, then there was a story about forcing the daughter of the ex to wear a dress on Easter. The ex didn’t care my date did and forced the issue. When you’re born again wearing a new dress on Easter is important for all the world to see you’re serious about god.

Since they broke up he was sure they were no longer attending that church my date had picked out and probably went back to all the sitting and standing of the Episcopal’s. But who cares god is god right apparently not so much.

Before this next part you need to know, yes I told him I am Catholic. Yes I told him my father is a deacon. No I’m sure he heard it.

After his third margarita he started to tell me he didn’t understand the Catholics and the whole idol worship thing. Now this is a bit of a hot button issue for me. It’s not like saying every priest is a child molester, but it runs a close second. It has to do with a basic lack of knowledge about Catholicism. If you understood the religion you would never make the statement.

How it is the Catholics get the brunt of this crap and the Orthodox religions get off I don’t understand, but it’s probably why they still don’t have services in English.

He started with the pope, then Mary, then all the saints. I am sure he would have named them all if he could have. According to him not only are the Catholics worshiping all these people, we are worshiping our priests as well. By breaking the first commandment we are all going to hell. Which is lucky for us ‘cause surely it will be free of the born again.

I didn’t protest when we offered to pay for dinner, nor could I get to my car fast enough.

The scaliest part of this is this is the second time and the second person this has happened with.

As a disclaimer I have to say that I don’t go to mass and I am as disappointed and angry with the Catholic Church as everyone else is. However I still consider it to me my religion, because so much of my identity and personal experience is linked to it.

The Foggy Dew

2006-03-17T18:29:00.000-05:00

As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its loud tattoo,
But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffey swells
Rang out in the foggy dew.

Right proudly high in Dublin town
Hung they out a flag of war.
T'was better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Sulva or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through
While Brittania's huns with their long-range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew.

The bravest fell and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springing of the year.
While the world did gaze with deep amaze
At those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew.

And back through the glen I rode again
And my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valient men
Whom I never shall see more.
But to and fro in my dreams I go
And I kneel and pray for you,
For slavery fled the glorious dead

Happy Feast of St. Patrick

Not Half Nekkid

2006-03-17T18:22:00.000-05:00

Due to some technical problems with my wireless gateway I was unable to participate in Half Nekkid Thursday. I know your disappointed, but fear not I will be back next week with a vengeance.

60 Minutes

2006-03-15T21:34:00.000-05:00

There was a link on this article was on Scotty’s blog on the Other Side of Straight I wanted to link to it so you could have a look at it.

It baffles me that people are still having this discussion, I would think after the American Psychiatric Association stop classifying homosexuality as a disease we would be done with this conversation. I guess the straights need more convincing.

On the Move

2006-03-14T13:40:00.000-05:00

There are few things that are a bigger pain in the ass then moving. I have lived in MA for 3.5 years and am currently looking for my 5th address. It’s not that I enjoy moving but I have made a couple of bad professional decision thus things panning out as they have.

My current apartment is kind of nice as well as charming, but the charm doesn’t outshine the problems. It’s three rooms which is plenty of space for me all of my furniture (or lack of furniture I should say) fits with out a problem. Storage on the other hand is a completely different matter. There are only two closets one fits my clothes the other has my luggage, coats, linens, and other miscellaneous items. What doesn’t fit in the closet is sitting in the front hall. There is no way you can fool people into thinking a cooler and air conditioner are a table, believe me I’ve tried.

Those are just a minor annoyances the real problem is the noise. My landlord is running a Brazilian refugee camp on the third of the building. There are so many people coming and going I am not sure how many people live up there. They are constantly shouting at each other in the hall, in their apartment, in the parking lot all of which I can hear like we are in the same apartment. That plus the fact they are doing something that sounds like bowling make me feel like I am living in Section 8 housing.

Deciding what town to move to has provided a challenge of it’s own. I don’t want to stay in the town I live in but anywhere I want to live is either to expensive or to far from where I need to be for work. Roommates are defiantly out of the question. I’ve lived that nightmare to many times already, Thank you.

The only good thing about moving is I knew I wasn’t going to stay in this place, so I have things that are still packed from the last time I moved.

Catholic Charities to halt adoptions over issue involving gays

2006-03-10T22:23:00.000-05:00

This from today's Boston Globe. Again the Catholic Church is turning it's back on needy children in order to advance themselves. My heart sank when I heard this today.

By Steve LeBlanc, Associated Press Writer March 10, 2006

BOSTON --The Boston Archdiocese's Catholic Charities said Friday it would stop providing adoption services because state law allows gays and lesbians to adopt children.

The social services arm of the Roman Catholic archdiocese has provided adoption services for the state for about two decades, but said it would discontinue once it completes its current state contract. It said that the state law allowing gays to adopt runs counter to church teachings on homosexuality.

"The world was very different when Charities began this ministry at the threshold of the 20th century," the Rev. J. Bryan Hehir, president of Catholic Charities, and trustees chairman Jeffrey Kaneb said in a joint statement. "The world changed often and we adapted the ministry to meet changing times and needs. At all times we sought to place the welfare of children at the heart of our work.

"But now, we have encountered a dilemma we cannot resolve," they said.
Boston Archbishop Sean O'Malley, who had sought an exemption from the law, said the church was faced with a choice between its faith and the state law.

"Sadly, we have come to a moment when Catholic Charities in the Archdiocese of Boston must withdraw from the work of adoptions, in order to exercise the religious freedom that was the prompting for having begun adoptions many years ago," O'Malley said in a statement.

The state's four Catholic bishops had said earlier this month that the law threatens the church's religious freedom by forcing it to do something it considers immoral.
Gay rights groups criticized the decision.

"All of the homes were good and loving homes and now through the pressure of the bishops Catholic Charities is being forced to get out of the business," said Lee Swislow, executive director of Gay and Lesbian Advocates & Defenders. "There are no winners here. The children are the ones who suffer."

Eight members of Catholic Charities' board stepped down in protest of the bishops' stance. The 42-member board had voted unanimously in December to continue considering gay households for adoptions.

Catholic Charities has been involved in adoptions for about a century, but has had a contract with the state Department of Social Services to provide special needs adoption services to children with severe emotional and physical needs since 1977. The contract expires June 30.
In the past two decades, Catholic Charities has placed 720 children in adoptive homes, including 13 with same-sex couples. The bulk of adoptive children in Massachusetts are placed by DSS, rather than outside agencies such as Catholic Charities, the agency said.

Within an hour of Catholic Charities' announcement, Gov. Mitt Romney said he planned to file a bill that would allow religious organizations to seek an exemption from the state's anti-discrimination laws to provide adoption services

"This is a sad day for neglected and abandoned children," Romney, a possible 2008 presidential candidate, said in a statement issued while he was in Tennessee to address the Southern Republican Leadership Conference. "It's a mistake for our laws to put the rights of adults over the needs of children.

"While I respect the board's decision to stay true to their principles, I find the current state of the law deeply disturbing and a threat to religious freedom," he said.

Kerry Healey, Romney's lieutenant governor and a Republican candidate for governor, has said she wouldn't support any legislation to create an exemption.

House Speaker Salvatore DiMasi issued a statement Friday saying he regretted the decision, but supports the anti-discrimination law. He said he would review Romney's bill.

Tim Fitzgerald and his partner John Budron adopted two toddler-aged brothers in 1997 through DSS. Fitzgerald, who married Budron in 2004 after gay marriage became legal in Massachusetts, called the decision by Catholic Charities "tragic."

"It's bad enough that they wouldn't do placement in gay families, but to stop the whole thing is just reprehensible," Fitzgerald said.

In 2003, the Vatican issued a statement on gay marriage that also instructed Catholic charitable agencies not to place adoptive children in gay households.

Massachusetts is the only state to legalize gay marriage, but Catholic service agencies in other states could face similar dilemmas as they seek to find adoptive homes.

Brian Cahill, executive director of Catholic Charities CYO in San Francisco said the agency placed five children out of a total of 136 with gay couples in the past five years. He said most of the children are older, with special needs.

"Our position has been that we operate in the best interest of these very vulnerable, very fragile children," Cahill said.

Former San Francisco Archbishop William J. Levada, now prefect of the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, has acknowledged three teen-agers considered difficult to place were adopted by gay parents through local Catholic Charities during his tenure. He and O'Malley are the only Americans in a new group of cardinals to be installed this month.

"It has been, and remains, my position that Catholic agencies should not place children for adoption in homosexual households," Levada said in a statement in response to inquiries this week.

In Massachusetts, C.J. Doyle, executive director of the Catholic Action League, said the local church should have pressed the adoption issue.

"It's a very disappointing development and a defeat for religious freedom," he said. "They should have fought this in court."

Half-Nekkid Thursday

2006-03-09T19:19:00.000-05:00