My Purpose: Entertain, Inspire, Be Happy, Free Hugs!
 

What's Wrong With Me??

This Blog Has Nothing To Do With Lesbianism And That's Why I Changed The Title Y'all.(Just roll eyes and keep reading...)He's got one latex-gloved finger deep in my mouth and the other stuck in my ear.I mumble something unintelligible, and he pulls his spittle-covered finger out of my mouth with a twist of his wrist as though twirling drippage from a just-poured bottle of wine.I swallow the accumulated saliva, clear my throat, stretch my jaw wide—activating a popping sound on my left side—and ask him, Did you hear that?He did.He waits with his hand in mid-air waiting for me to tell him whatever else I’m about to say.Me: Oh. Yes. No, nothing.But what I'm really thinking is how challenging it is...

Vanity Insanity - Just to be Clear(-Skinned), I am Still Vane

There’s a dichotomy in me. I blame it on TV. Actually, more on TV commercials. And fashion/health/beauty/cosmetic-procedure(!) magazines. And Internet and mannequins in store windows—and my memories of all these things that are indelibly inked in my mind from years of subjecting myself to them. Silly-ass girl. (By the way, if/when you read my memoir, I would like to note that at that time I was in the midst of this image-oriented not-mid-life mess, which means there’s a lot of funny shit in that book I should be ashamed of except that I say never should on yourself or others. So I refuse to be ashamed, yet I cannot help but be slightly abashed for the overt ugliness of...

New Prescription: Pork and Port

Mermaid and I go on a road trip to the Ventura Flea Market and then to Ojai, both about a 90-minute drive north of Venice Beach. Being of the eco-friendly nature, she drives a hybrid. Being of the collecting treasures kind, said hybrid is already stacked with former flea market finds: fabrics, blankets, baskets, wall hangings, knickknacks, burlap bags, canvas, metal wheel frame, and so on.“Um, where are you going to put anything else?” I ask her.“Oh, the trunk is almost empty,” she replies.I ask her why she’s storing these treasures in the car. She tells me that she’s doing a show in early December, and it’s easier to leave them in the car than to haul them into the...

How to Stay Single and Save the Planet: Don’t Shave Your Bits

March. Nary a hair (make that hairs) hath hastened my journey to self-accepted (and decidedly steadfast) singledom than these unsightly sprouts springing forth on my wild and wintered legs. Was it the holistic hippy retreat, the brisk Canadian cold (first official day of spring and it’s snowing) or the “I’ll never move back to (small home town) and I’ll never live with my mother or I’ll never find a man—oh, my God—I’m in (small home town) living with my mother!” realization that left me despondently disinterested in grooming these gams (and other parts)? I was so excited to get home. Home. To my friends and family and country (sort of) and ... well, friends and family. What the hell...

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