Leapin' Lizards !!!

It's weird-- Leap Year Day is one of those "special" occasions, where you say "Oh my gosh -- it's Leap Year Day! Yay!!!!.... *cough* ... " - and that's about the end of it. It's just like the Olympics; it cycles in and out of our lives every 4 years and afterwards we wonder "now why the hell do we do that, anyway?"

Well the human race has not really come to a consensus about what to do with this pesky equinox solar rotation blah blah insert astronomy here dilemma. In fact, the approaches at trying to adequately quantify the number of days in a year is as varied as the languages we speak and the currencies we squander. For a variety of religions and countries there are distinctive calendars, all periodically revised and altered for this or that purpose.

According to the Islamic tradition, it is actually immoral to add a leap day because it is a violation of what Allah has created as sacred (Allah: "12 months and that's it, bitches!!!"). Holy crap! So in America we've got it all wrong!!! We've focused so much energy on chastising abortion and homosexuality that we have neglected to reject that nettlesome and vile 29th of February! Everywhere I turn I see sin and debauchery, all those immoral calendars flaunting their leap day lifestyle in my face! 666?!? Oh no friends, it's all about the 29 ...

Do not fear, children of the Gregorian, because there is plenty of other folklore afoot to entertain and confound. For example (if the folklore is true ... and it generally is of course)- in the 13th century it was an accepted practice for women to have the right to propose marriage to a man-- but only during a Leap Year (and the penalties for the man's refusal were stiff - or un-stiff? He paid the price of a "kiss" or he had to buy the damsel in distress a nice pretty gown- damn that's harsh). Apparently they were running out of kisses or gowns so some changed the rule so that it was only on the Leap Day itself that women could propose.

Revered or feared (in Greece it's bad luck to marry during a leap year), there's even a special name for leap years- "intercalary years". However this special name comes at a price- the non-leap year years are dispassionately referred to as "common years" (I guess leap years are like the Prodigal Son - "It's February 29th, kill the fatted calf!!!!" *moooooooo*)

There is an intricate set of rules that go into our current Gregorian calendar. We're used to the fact that leap years come every 4 years, however-- Years which are divisible by 100 are not leap years, unless they are also divisible by 400, in which case they are leap years.

What? What?? What person is sitting around making up all this stuff?!? "Yes, it is not a leap year if you can divide the year by 100, unless of course your sister was born on a Tuesday and the groundhog saw his shadow. In that case, but only if mauve is your favorite color and the words "diaper rash" make you cringe, then divide the year by the square root of your neighbor's insolent son's age and add your weight- in kilograms. Um ... yeah that'll about do it."

Well it could be a hard knock life for those calendared systems that do not align with the monopolizing Gregorian calendar; nevertheless, they are an indication of each group's individual cultural perspective on time- and I think that's pretty darn cool.

So I have to wonder... if a gay man proposes marriage on the 29th, he's doubly doomed according to the Islamic faith and the Bush administration. Yikes!!!!! And as we all know, two wrongs don't make a right ...

Indeed- I have never liked the right. I shall always be a left-y.

Return to Gallaudet

It's been a while since I've had the chance to return to my soon-to-be-Alma-mater, right there on the magnificent Florida Avenue in NorthEast (excuse me, crack whore, but which way is the Metro?). I haven't had much reason to go back to campus since I finished my courses last May; my internship was off-site and most of my friends had graduated and cut loose.

And so there I was yesterday, 9 months later, back at a place which was so incredibly indescribable when I left it. My last dwindling moments at Gallaudet were tedious and disturbing ... like waiting for a relative in a coma to finally pass and be out of pain. That's exactly how I felt that final semester at Gallaudet- like I was in an emotional coma.

Yesterday there was the usual ritual of reuniting and catching up that always accompanies any event/location that involves Deaf people- within a half-hour I had already "bumped" into 6 people that I knew. I do miss that part of Gallaudet; there is always someone close at hand (wink) that you're connected to in some way. It's such a social place- like a dog park where you can fervently sniff all the crotches you want to and ignore the world just outside the park gates.

I went through the lines at "Gradfest", Gallaudet's one-stop shop for all of your graduation needs (4-hr long DVDs of identically-dressed persons taking fake diplomas, paying library fines, ordering rings that you'll never wear, cap and gown, etc.). And as I looked around, I realized how lonely it was to be the only person from my academic year not graduating with the rest of my class.

The problem with an institution that has left such a memorable mark in my emotional memory is that it's hard to separate the good from the bad-- like mixing a cup of cow manure into a batch of delicious cookie dough. No matter what you pull out of the oven, it will still have that unmistakable stench. So it goes with Gallaudet.

So here is the question: to go or not to go to the graduation ceremony? If I'm having a difficult time keeping my mind off of the negatives, why put myself back in that situation? When my department gives me my graduate school hood and says "Yay you finally made it!", I'll only be thinking "Yay you finally noticed who I really am!" Can I genuinely smile and thank the people who made my experience so unnecessarily painful?

Two and a half years and $50,000 worth of debt later (Galladebt is the correct spelling, FYI) I stand strong and composed at the gates of a small university while the whisperings of extinguished memories sift softly into my consciousness: the best friend turned enemy (yes officer, she did in fact say she would be relieved if I died), the department that insensitively withdrew its support and warmth from my education (the counseling department- the irony), and the first guy to ever break my heart.

*somewhere a violin plays* ;-)

"Who can say if I've been changed for the better, but because I knew you I have been changed for good" -- all the gay boys sigh ....

Well the good news is that I'm happy now- and all's well that ends well, right? Hmm ... well then perhaps it's best to leave that dusty box of mixed Gallaudet feelings on its shelf in my emotional storage locker- and never unpack it again.

:-) It's amazing how quickly things change ...

Take me baby or leave me

10 points to anyone who started singing "Take me for what I am" from Rent upon reading the blog title ..... *golf claps*

Here's a random assortment of things that people generally LOVE or HATE:

-rain storms
-coconut
-Hillary Clinton
-filling out your 1040 or 1040EZ
-diet beverages
-rice pudding
-Seinfeld episodes
-dogs
-Rosie O'Donnell
-exercising
-Backstreet Boys
-gardening
-mathematics
-high-fiving
-people who say "Ciao"
-Starbucks
-whoopie cushions
-licking stamps
-lawyers
-sick days from work
-bubble-wrap
-results from the Clinic
-tequila
-spicy foods
-dropping down low and sweeping the floor with it
-children
-reading
-a persistant suitor
-British comedy
-Hooters the restaurant
-hooters the anatomy
-anchovies
-S&M
-silent letters like the "b" in "lamb"
-gossip
-root beer
-getting mail
-Tickle Me Elmo
-Taco Bell
-blogs with no real point

The Confederate Flag and Floridian Ignorance

I know, I know!!! Silly to put a redundancy in the title of this blog (hint- it is not "confederate flag"), but I mention the great Sunshine State only because it is the newest state to consider issuing Confederate Heritage License Plates (http://blogs.usatoday.com/ondeadline/2008/02/fla-legislator.html). Proceeds go to the Sons of Confederate Veterans (Florida division: http://www.florida-scv.org/index.htm).

Hmm ...

According to the main SCV webpage, "The citizen-soldiers who fought for the Confederacy personified the best qualities of America. The preservation of liberty and freedom was the motivating factor in the South's decision to fight the Second American Revolution. The tenacity with which Confederate soldiers fought underscored their belief in the rights guaranteed by the Constitution. These attributes are the underpinning of our democratic society and represent the foundation on which this nation was built."

Now, I know that the Civil War was fought for reasons in addition to slavery, but I think we can agree that Abraham Lincoln and slavery are the first images that come to mind when we mention the Confederacy.

And so, a few comments on the SCV's opening paragraph:

(1) "Liberty and freedom"- for WHO? The irony ...

(2) "Rights guaranteed by the Constitution"- now I don't remember my high school government classes all that well, but I do recall something our founding fathers said about "promote the general welfare", which I assume can be applied to all persons regardless of color ... hmmm perhaps the Constitution has footnotes or clauses I am unaware of?

(3) "The foundation on which this nation was built"- yes, a racist foundation that continues to divide and weaken American communities to this very day. Lovely.



I believe in honoring those who gave their lives fighting for what they believed to be moral and true. I believe in looking at history that is not written by the "winners". Most of all, I do believe in preserving history-- but only as a means to remind us of past mistakes in an effort to improve ourselves as a humane and justice-seeking nation (obviously Vietnam didn't do the trick).

The Confederate flag is a significant feature of American history. It is also one that represents a very dark period of time in the collective consciousness of present-day Americans. The pink triangle, once a horrid mark used to identify gays in concentration camps, is now used with pride and assertion in the gay community. However, the Confederate flag is a different kettle of fish (and I really wonder where that expression comes from).

Furthermore, the Sons of Confederate Veterans will only accept people to be members that are "male descendants of any veteran who served honorably in the Confederate armed forces".

Now wait a minute ... isn't this aforementioned "democratic society", one that boasts such supreme qualities and values, made up of men and women of almost every race and nationality? Aren't all of these persons able to unite beneath a banner that promotes its ideals as the foundation of our country? A country in which all of these persons live, work, and have families???

And lastly:

Charge to the Sons of Confederate Veterans
"To you, Sons of Confederate Veterans, we will commit the vindication of the cause for which we fought. To your strength will be given the defense of the Confederate soldier's good name, the guardianship of his history, the emulation of his virtues, the perpetuation of those principles which he loved and which you love also, and those ideals which made him glorious and which you also cherish. Remember, it is your duty to see that the true history of the South is presented to future generations."

Lt. General Stephen Dill Lee, Commander General, United Confederate Veterans
New Orleans, Louisiana, April 25, 1906

************************

Please make the right decision, Florida, for once in your life.

Thunder from down under

Article: http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3509263,00.html, entitled "Homosexual activity cause of earthquake, Shas MK says"

Sigh ... oh this is too much to pass up.

Apparently "homosexual activity", which can be broadly defined as any activity that a homosexual does (like public service, establishing a non-profit organization for education, and attending church), is the cause of a recent earthquake that has shaken several towns in Israel.

This particular earthquake only hit 5.3 on the Dickter scale (is that all? *disappointed* I need a measurement of at least 6.0 to get me going haha j/k), and lasted 19 seconds (typical *tsk*- all that trembling and then nothing!). This shift in the earth's tectonic plates is indickative of the consequences brought on by a country that is tolerating a gay movement (meaning limp wrists? I don't know...) that has been likened to the bird flu epidemic (what bird? a cock?).

Do whaaaat? The gay movement (and hell, we've been moving since the beginning of time!) is a "plague that could destroy Jewish Israel" and should be treated "just as the Health Ministry dealt with the bird flu epidemic." *car tires screeching to a halt*

Well, gay people have been victimized by oppression and attacks from "outside" peoples for centuries - of course a person who's Jewish wouldn't understand how that feels... *coughing profusely*

So how do we eradickate this most vile and dangerous disease? Well the last time Jewish people dealt with a ghastly plague they were protected by painting sheep's blood over their doorways (to which Mr. Sheep abruptly looks up and says "I beg your fuckin' pardon? Oh hell no! Baaaaaa!!!"). Suddenly an image of Moses came to me, him standing on a mountaintop stick-in-hand demanding "Let my homos go!"

Perhaps the persons who agree with this condemnation should reconsider the Old Testament passages that deal with the justification of slavery and limited women's rights? Yes, yes- "all of those are taken out of context". Yeah well, when y'all decide to stop playing scripture-a-la-carte with holy texts, you just let me know.

For serious, how much more ridickulous can this get? First gays are responsible for the burning of Sodom and incurring the wrath of god, and now we are to blame for natural-- err, I mean (super)natural disasters! Are we that powerful? Do we piss off the Creator that much?

Damn ... I should start building that ark I've been planning right away! First things first, though- I need a crew that's got plenty of seamen.

Sex in church

This week a particular headline turned heads (and heads) and almost slayed a few in the aisles with the story: "Minister urges congregation to have more sex".

Now, certainly the minister is leaving himself wiiiiiiide open (to altar boys?) to criticism and speculation about the appropriateness of the church barging down the bedroom door and discussing sexual issues with the general public (after all, sex is taboo- quite like molestation scandals and pastoral "conversion" therapy ... oh wait, both of those have to do with sex!).

The minister's rationale for his unexpected ejaculation from the pulpit is that divorce is on the rise, quite like his male congregants, and that the easiest solution to put out the flames of sin is to ignite the flames of marital passion (oxymoron? - oh, and who's hose is in charge of putting out? *ahem* I mean- putting out the fire?) for 30 days straight (emphasis on the word straight).

Certainly the Mormon males are starting to cringe ("Dammit, women, I need at least 20 minutes to recharge!"), and females across the country are considering the very same question- Doesn't that damn minister know about a lady's cycle? (perhaps he doesn't spend all THAT much time in bed with his wife, what a shocker)

Well naturally the minister's challenge to the congregation cums at a time when the church is battling to stay in the mainstream (yes, Hebrew fish, swim towards the egg silly!) and keep up with the competitive worldly pleasures that are all too familiar to us (like condoms, porn, and pre-commitment-ceremony sex).

Honestly, though- aren't we confusing the children that are being raised in the faith? Masturbation is bad, sex is good, but oh wait you have to be married, oh oh wait and you also have to be a man and woman, oh oh and ... Lord! I'm 27 and already with these rules I don't know my ass from my elbow (but I'm sure one of them has to do with sex, just ask the minister).

And why is it THIS particular headline making the news? What about the sermons and messages of all the other faiths around the country that are reminding us of peace, love, and friendliness to all mankind? (perhaps the sermon topics should be changed to "peace of ass", "making love", and "friendliness with benefits" -- CNN would be all over that like a prison gang on dropped soap)

So what's next? In depth discussion about the missionary position? Substituting hard liquor in those grape juice shot glasses on communion Sunday? Wet T-shirt competitions in the baptism pool?

Phew ... lucky I gave up abstinence for lent !!!

Things that vex and disturb ...

Pet peeves, annoyances, freaky shit- whatever label you assign them, here is a small list of odd or bothersome things that continue to haunt me:

-That hair on the wall of the shower (how did it get there, and how did it climb so friggin' high? Mr. Hair: "Must ... keep ... climbing ..." - and what the hell am I supposed to do with it now?)

-That slightly disturbing feeling you have when you are sipping from a water fountain and the flow of water changes precisely at the same time you hear a toilet flush in a public bathroom

-The wind of Washington D.C. -- seriously, I have begun to curse the wind out loud, much to the surprise of passers-by on the street (quite like a Celine Dion song, the wind is pervasive, transparent, intangible, ubiquitous, and just friggin' annoying as hell)

-Supersize Fries and a Diet Coke- if you're gonna do it, just go all out! That's like strapping on a prophylactic and then immediately falling asleep - What's the point? (whatever it is, it isn't in the direction of north)

-Scalding coffee: Would you serve a person a hamburger that is still on fire? Or a glass of milk that's completely frozen over? Temperature counts! Should coffee have to come with a warning label? (well, the Celine Dion songs should)

-English gone bad: For example, "I know it's a lot of information, so if you don't understand anything just cut me." (rather than "cut me off")

-Gendered pronouns: I know it's not "proper English", but can we start saying "they" and "them" when we're referring to a person of unknown gender? Stop switching between he and she, it messes me up!!! (note this does not apply to the shows at De Lounge)

-People who pretend they didn't just trip and about bust their head open on the cement-- take pride in your fall! (it has goeth-ed, anyway) It's funny! And don't turn around and stare in perplexed amazement at some invisible thing on the pavement, some apparent monstrosity of an obstacle, that was able to bother your balance for a step or two (cuz it isn't there, you're just a klutz!)

-Dogs wearing argyle sweaters: It's embarrassing enough for a dog to be wearing a sweater when it has a full coat of fur to protect itself from the cold ... but when a big butchy dog is wearing a cutsie diamond-patterned argyle one-sy, well ... dignity is gone with the DC wind.

-Violently offensive farting: Seriously, sometimes I need to lay off the vegetables because the fumes that occasionally funk out of my body are enough to initiate a chemical spill evacuation in any government facility (Comments that have been made about my farts when they are anonymous: "Damn ... what the hell is that stench?" -- "Ew ... something smells like diapers!" -- "Lord someone needs to empty the garbage around here!")

Balding

Hair hair hair. We are a nation obsessed with the hair. Moreover, we are obsessed with losing it in places we want, and gaining it in places we don’t want (for example, ear lobe hair-- seriously, the old men in Italy look like they had Princess Leia Chia Pets on their ears or something).

Our national symbol is the bald eagle (although “bald” comes from the old English “balde”, which means white – so what happens if I’m white and bald? I'm a baldie balde?). There are products galore that promise to turn any patch of empty skin into a rich prairie of hair-fibers, blossoming unrestrained like a savannah. We want that thick mane of shampooed-goodness so badly we'd pull a Van Gogh just to keep our heads covered.

As hairy as this situation may be, there are organizations out there in the world committed to bring an end to our fervent fascination with the fluff stuff. BALD R US, whose website (http://www.baldrus.com/) is headlined by an American flag complete with beaked eagle, provides a wealth of information for those seeking solace for their scalp. There are T-shirts, bumper stickers ("Bald men don't need viagra", "I'm too sexy for my hair"), transplant terror stories, hairpiece horror stories ... the list goes on and on like Rapunzel on Rogaine.

There's even empirical evidence that proves bald is better- the website says "The facts don't lie: Survey proves that bald men are the best dressed and most romantic." Do whaaaaat? Oh and wait! Tips on how to shine or de-shine my cue ball head (is that why we have ear wax?)! Well, the "naked noggin" certainly does have quite an impact on modern society. BALD R US has even partnered with E-Harmony to get "Bald" listed as one of the search criteria for matching partners! (*enters short, stocky, slow-witted bald man into search engine* -- oh wait I can't cuz I'm gay)

Oh but wait- there's more! Even the Divine Powers that Be weigh in on this furry matter. Perhaps god is bald as well, and on the 8th day he got plugs and stopped the comb-over.

2 Kings 2:23-24: "From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. "Go on up, you baldhead!" they said. "Go on up, you baldhead!" [24] He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the youths."

Holy shit!!! The LORD gets testy when hair falls prey to insult and badgering (is it really a burning bush, or does god just have fiery red hair?). But I know I'm safe-- the last time I ran into two bears in the woods they were actually quite friendly to me- in fact, they weren't interested in the hair on my head at all !!!

Jolly Old Saint Valentine, Lean Your Heart This Way

Well the day is here! Valentine's Day! Anti-Valentine's Day! Singles Awareness Day! (abbreviated S.A.D.) But honestly people, is it so terrible to be single? And aware?

And much to the hearty disapproval of the corporate conglomerates that would prefer us to shell out millions on chocolates and heart-shaped sugar candies, many people have snubbed this holiday and called it a glorified commercialization and mockery of the true experience of love- which is shared between 2 people on every single day of the year. Indeed, for some of us every day is a single day.

Perhaps if we look back at history then we can begin to appreciate the true origins of this heartfelt day. Scholars debate on the actual identity of St. Valentine himself- some even believe he is the "combination" of two or more persons, or two or more persons with the same name. What is known, however, is that some time way back when some random Roman dead dude was put in the ground on February 14th, inaugurating the feast and festival that has evolved into our modern Valentine's Day.

So in reality we are actually celebrating someone's funeral (well love is dead, right? *wink*) with our Werther's and "be mine"s and flowers galore. And just like the deceased St. Valentine himself, what we often bring to the metaphoric casket is a heart that has stopped beating in some way. Either the heart is suspended mid-beat and frozen in some foggy rose-tinted dreamland ... or it's been broken.

Another interesting historical note is the link between Valentine's Day and romanticism. In the 14th century Geoffrey Chaucer and his gang in England began to associate the two together, creating the celebration of love in shades of pink (blush and bashful), red, and white.

Romanticism- ahh, an idea that for some of us has taken a journey 6 feet under (a.k.a. cynicism). After all, if you are dressed in only allegorical black then a bleeding heart can't leave any stains. Still, we usually manage to eventually change out of those dreary funeral frocks and give that bright white suit another chance. Just make sure you bring some Shout or bleach to the funeral.

But should the white suit be blotched and blemished again, don't worry-- like most things, in the end everything turns up roses ;-)

Pre-War Man

Here is a photocopied essay, printed on bright green paper and conspicuously placed in the wedge between seats of a Metro car today. Seems whoever printed and left it wanted to make sure it was discovered. It was so amusing I decided to share the joy with all of you:

The "Pre-War Man"
"CIA GOD FATHER"

"A lie detector test can discover the truth"

To cover up the U.S. Homeland civil war that all began around the middle of May 2006. AND to cover up the fact that I overthrown George Bush the 1st, the 2nd and Donald Rumsfeld back in 2006:

The spies supporting George Bush have been using "CIA spy technology" to mis-lead the public about me and my facts stated. I am also the person that invented the "Pre-War plan". George Bush and other people emulated my "Pre-War plan" and called it "Pre-War Intelligence.

*How it feels when ever someone is being mind washed

1. Sometimes it feels like a smaller version of how your face and head feels when standing up after you did a head stand for at least 5 minutes. Kind of like a head rush.

2. Sometimes it feels like fluid running through parts of your face or head the same tempature as your blood.

3. Sometimes it feels like your head is moving when it's really not.

4. Sometimes it feels like your head or face is shifting composures. You would have to stand still for at least 2-3 minutes after the time a feeling is transfered into your mind in order to be aware of being mind washed. You will either feel these kinds of feelings at our nose, mouth, fourhead, the top of your head or the back of your head.

They will mind wash someone with good feelings about me to cover up how it feels when ever being mind washed. They will mind wash you to feel turned off, bored or out of touch about my info. Even strange feelings can be transfered into someone. They can also mind wash people while sleep.

They also have "CIA spy sound travel devices" used to create people talking in public and over the phone. Sound travels of people talking are usually created to start rumors and negitive talk about me and to stall time. Sound travel devices can record any ones voic......

***
End of transmission from Mars ... *ahem* I mean from the green Metro paper.

Well, I've never been one for conspiracy theories, but if the current administration is resorting to torture and lying about it, perhaps this guy/girl isn't that far off track...

Man- suddenly I feel dizzy ....

Why my bank can kiss it

"Welcome to Peoples First Community Bank of Florida, where we always put the customer first ... that is, of course, unless you actually want to DO something with your accounts. In that case, please stay on the line and we will send someone over right away to bend you over and force you to take it brokeback-mountain-style but without the spit. Thank you."

It isn't far from the truth. Peoples First has officially been bumped to the top of my "To Be Eliminated" list, just behind left-standers on the Metro and Splenda-made cookies.

I called PFCBoF today to inquire how I might go about closing my checking and savings accounts with them. After I had personally offended the customer service representative by choosing to close an account -- something apparently as rude as selling her first born child to hungry gypsies -- I had to explain my rationale.

"Well, I no longer live in Florida. And your interest rates aren't very competitive. And the online banking security is a real nightmare and not very user-friendly."

I spent the next half-hour consoling the poor woman as if we had just ended an engagement the night before the wedding. But as we all know, hell hath no fury like a customer service representative woman's scorn ...

"Well, sir, you have to come in in person to verify your identity to close any account. But since you live in DC, when you close the account we'll have to send you your money by mail. Is your address current with Peoples First?"

"No it isn't. I moved to DC"

"Ah, well in that case you'll have to mail in a notarized form with your social security number on it verifying your identity before your mailing address can be changed."

"Can't I change my mailing address online?"

"No, you silly ass. That would be efficient customer service, and at Peoples First we believe that the customer should always suffer, you insolent bitch."

"I see. Well, your online security is very strict (and antiquated), so I'm surprised that Peoples First would ask its customers to send a paper form through the mail which has their social security number printed clearly on it. That doesn't seem very secure."

"Well that's what you get for breaking my heart, you hateful monster. MONSTER!!!" *click*

Immediately after, I entered an incorrect password on their online system and was permanently locked out of my account until I called customer service to reinstate it. *slowly bends over again and winces*

"Please hold, I'll transfer you to the next representative. Yes, I'm speaking in a very cheerful computer voice. That's because I take an unprecedented amount of SSRIs before drinking hard liquor every morning, and I am tickled pink with the satisfaction that you'll be sore every time you sit down today and that you'll be walking somewhat bowlegged. Please hold."

And then I got a voice mail message. A voice mail? A FRIGGIN' VOICE MAIL IN CUSTOMER SERVICE?!?

So to ensure that I always remember my password and avoid future lock-outs from Peoples First, for my password I have selected a string of expletives that accurately describes this financial institution.

However, just to be on the safe side, I'll avoid the use of the word "asshole" in any future interaction with Peoples First *reaches for soothing ointment*

Hey there, cowboy

Last Saturday I completed a rite of passage that is only experienced by persons who are determined to spin and twirl in style on the country-western dance floor. Yes, I have finally purchased a pair of cowboy boots (to which my mother said "Oh great, now you'll have something to wear when it snows" ... *sigh*, obviously I am not actually her child).

Carol's Western Wear, the recommended outlet for boots and other related paraphernalia (really its sole purpose is boots *wink*), has been Maryland's leading dealer of the only acceptable things to come out of Alabama since 1962. It was charming- except for the "Yay Department of Homeland Security is fabulous!" shirts that instantly smack your attention upon entering the store (gayness added by blog author).

After finding the perfect pair of pumps- *cough*, I mean, burly man boots (yaaaay!!! *claps*)- in black cherry size 10.5, and leaning over my new babies and welcoming them into my world (the shop assistant gave me the strangest look when I stroked them and whispered hoarsely "My preciousssssssss" - weird), I was ready to check out.

BUT WAIT - there was already some checking out that was a foot (*wink again*, love these pedestrian references **wink again again**). My friend and I had stumbled upon a young black guy dolled up in very trendy metrosexual-meets-Mississippi gear, complete with boots, jacket, and cap all in complimenting dark grey, black, and white colors. Amazing smile, friendly disposition, and hopefully gay.

After a short attempt at flirting, my friend and I left Carol's with a slight regret that we had not saved a horse and ridden the cowboy behind us in the checkout line. In a fit of madness, obviously due to sniffing the leather cleaner while in the store, I stormed back into the Boot Palace to fetch the cutie's phone number for my dear friend (something I would never do for myself, unless I had actually been drinking the leather cleaner).

Fearless and uninhibited by asking a question that would definitely get you whipped in the Bible Belt, I began my hunt for digits and potential embarrassment.

"Hi there. Yeah ... Um, I'm not really sure if this is your thing, but my friend is very shy and he kinda wants to have your phone number."

Huge grin (awkward or flattered???).

"Yeah um ... so he wants your number ..." (scanning face fervently) "... but uh, I don't know if that's how you roll so ... um ........." *cough*

Missi-Metro responds: "Oh, haha ... well, you see, about 4 or 5 years ago-------------"

In the span of a few nanoseconds I had already completed his thought with a million hypotheticals::: "----I used to be in the closet." or "----I had a near-death experience that made me realize that penis is hot." or "----my heart was broken by this queeny bitch and I've been looking for a soul mate ever since."

Instead, it was "----I started going to church and was saved and all ...."

Me: "Ah, I see. Well, you know, you can be saved and be gay all at the same time."

*uncomfortable laughing* "Haha well *random words of little importance as I had already given up*" .... blah blah blah basically he keeps his donkey parked in the stable where it can't (or won't?) do any man-bucking and thus he is dead to me *spit Jack-style*.

A very interesting response, wouldn't you say??? It's like asking "Hey there, sir, do you like chicken sandwiches?" and getting the answer of "Well I started eating tofu a while back." Notice that the question goes mysteriously unanswered ...

The only shame I experienced, since apparently I don't have much at all, was returning to the car to inform my red-faced friend that Mr. Poser- ahem, I mean Mr. Random Cowboy Man, had rejected his request on account of a religious experience.

My only conclusion on this ambiguous man is this: obviously he's never done any proper riding while in stirrups.