How was your day, Dan?

LOVELY

There are a few people who have shocked me with just how beautiful they are.  Henry Cavill, the new Superman, is take-your-breath-away gorgeous.  He runs in the same crowds as my friends in LA, and he is well-loved around the WeHo 'hood for his dashing looks and his delightful personality.  Up close, he really...wow, his skin and his big nose and the perfect cheekbones and chin...I used to describe him as "super-human," so I like to think my words somehow made it out there into the universe and helped him finally land the Superman role (he was also a finalist in 2006, when Brandon Routh got the part.)

Jessica Biel, when I met her, actually caused my chest to ache.  She was that beautiful in person.  We were at a party, we didn't speak; I spent the rest of the evening watching her mill around the room and chat pleasantly in her white dress.  Damn.  It was effortless, the way she looked was stunning and effortless.

I remember the first evening I met my (then) boyfriend, J.  There was just one light bulb glaring over his head, and it cast shadows over his shaved head and through his long eyelashes, as he blinked and breathed very rapidly looking at me.  We weren't doing anything, we were just staring at each other and blushing, which was burning my face along with the light from that very bright lightbulb.  Everything became comic-book Technicolor, each fleck of the brown in his eyes glowed orange and yellow and red...ah, the fiery passion of youth.  I would be lying if I said I didn't still think about him.  Him, the barbed-wire tattoo around his arm, and those eyelashes.

 

 

 

 

 

OH, THE PLACES YOU'LL GO...

I have this image of what I want to be when I grow up.  At the age of 36.5, it's probably time to start working on it.

When I was a wee lad, I saw a commercial for the Peace Corps, "The toughest job you'll ever love," and subsequently reveled in the idea of trapesing through the jungles with a monkey on my shoulder and big ideas in my head.  I subscribed to Zoobooks, read every word cover to cover, then 3-hold punched them and kept them in a binder.  Some kids could tell you the stats of their hometown football team; I could tell you the uses of native plants of the Brazilian rainforest. Nerd, was I.

I'll speed up this story.  After college, I applied to the Peace Corps, I didn't get in, long story blah blah blah, dreams destroyed but actually I'm glad I didn't get taken down that road.  Everything happens for a reason, as they say.

I'm going to enter nursing school.  Got a job at a place that has a nursing degree, I can take classes while I work.  With this degree, I can go do what I want on my own, regardless of the U.S. government's approval.

Where should I go?  Here are my ideas:

Colombia: Despite the current nastiness in Haiti, the problems there are still not as bad as Colombia, the worst humanitarian disaster in the Western Hemisphere.  There are over 3 million refugees in the country, who have been pushed out of their homes and into camps, due to wars between drug cartels.  These people can apply for emergency money from a variety of sources, including Plan Colombia, a U.S. program intended to fight the drug-based economy in the country. 

Madagascar: The island is home to some of the coolest biodiversity on Earth, but it's currently being cleared clean by logging companies that provide wood for rich people's floors.  Booooooo.  The people don't make any money from the logging, of course.  Although most of it has been cleared, the country is still beautiful, which could add a pleasant element while I am helping dig ditches for clean water.

Botswana: Eighty percent of all deaths in Botswana are due to AIDS.  There aren't orphanages that can handle all the kids; villages just let the orphans live in their homes, and people go check on them when they can.  As the virus continues to spread, international funding is actually being reduced.

Isn't this post cheerful?  When I worked for the health department as an HIV counselor, I lasted a couple of years before I threw in the towel. I couldn't talk about "mortality rates" anymore.  I take these things personally.  But in my advancing age, my skin is a little thicker now, and I'm not so interested in changing the entire world as much as I am in just what I can deal with on my own.

The only problem is my hair.  In the Peace Corps commercials, the guy had a blond ponytail, but my hair is thinning now.  I don't think the ponytail can happen, hopefully I can find a job without one.

 

 

 

 

'NO STRINGS ATTACHED' AND OTHER IMPORTANT ART

Due to my weakened emotional state, after being literally crippled by the pain of a wrenched back, I have cried three times this past week. 

1) There is an post-graduate orchestral academy (is that how you would say it?) in Miami Beach, New World Symphony, that is moving into a new Frank Gehry building on Lincoln Road.  This building is about 5 blocks from my apartment.  Rehearsals for the big opening next week are open for audiences to check things out, so they can see what the sound is like with bodies in the seats; my friends were invited because they are artsy and well-connected.  I went with because I just wanted to see what the building looked like.

 

It's not a typically crazy Frank Gehry building, it's much smaller than his famous museums, but it's nice.  Although I will never understand the two-tone blue seats with white splatters all over them.  It looks like they splashed everything with bleach.  Anyway--

I can tell you the cutest guys in the orchestra are in the trumpet/trombone/tuba section.  Apparently their instruments are heavier, and lifting them up and down works out their arms. 

In all seriousness, the orchestra performed "The Flying Dutchman" and it was so lovely, it made me tear up.  I felt like Vivian when Edward took her to San Francisco to see the opera.

I am excited to have the opportunity to walk around the corner and see concerts whenever the whim strikes.  It may not strike often, but occasionally, yes.  Come with me!  It will be fun. 

~

2) Because my soul cannot handle too much legitimate artistry, I needed to immerse myself in pop culture banality--last night we saw "No Strings Attached," starring Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher.  So there isn't much script; but that's fine.  This is more an exercise in character development, what motivates people to say the things they say and make certain decisions.  Natalie Portman in particular reeeeeeally turns in a stellar performance as a typical 20-something who can't commit to relationships. 

I won't give away any significant plot points (not that there are many) but I will say: the film's most interesting aspect is the fact that Portman's relationship phobias are never explained, she just is the way she is.  Compared to sugary Nora Ephron romantic comedies, where everything is wrapped up with a big shiny bow by the end of the movie, "No Strings Attached" is refreshingly realistic by not answering every question.  Sometimes there are no answers, there doesn't need to be.  This is more about people just being who they are, no big deal.

The movie was really funny.  Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman have lots of chemistry together.  Although it was decided, amongst all the heterosexual women and homosexual men present, that if given a choice of who we would pick for sex, we would unanimously choose Natalie Portman.  She is just so awesome.

Oh!  This is about crying: so I cried a little at the end of the movie.  Just a little, it wasn't that big of a deal.  But yeah, that was moment #2.

~

3) This morning when I saw this news story, I just about lost my mind.  I didn't really cry as much as I screamed and did a dance.

 

CAREERBUILDER MAKES ME FEEL BAD ABOUT MYSELF

Would you like to see what job openings CareerBuilder say match my qualifications?  I'm dying to show them to you.  Getting these "job alert" emails each week does wonders for my self-esteem.

Service Foreman: Duties include repairing semi-tractor trailers, and train mechanics.

Administrative Assistant: Pay is $11/hour.  What would I do with all that money?!?  The most important skill: knowledge of "Advanced Order Office Supplies."  Hmm, I wonder if Borders sells "Advanced Order Office Supplies for Dummies"?

Cabinet Designer:  ?...

Japanese-Speaking Market Research Analyst: I'll take Japanese lessons right after I finish my course on "Advanced Order Office Supplies" software operations.

Public Relations Intern: Awesome.  Honestly, I shouldn't expect to land an $11/hour job right away.  At the age of 36, I should really give this interning position a shot.

 

ROATAN

Over the Christmas/New Year holidays, I went on two cruises--each a week long, back-to-back--

 

--and I took my camera out exactly twice: first when the ship docked in Roatan, an island off the coast of Honduras; and then during our stop in Belize.

Let's discuss Roatan.

TIDBITS

Random questions:

1) What's the hip method of posting photos online these days?  I want to post my cruise pics here on this ol' blog, but is there a cool tool I can use to do it?  I used Flickr before, but that's just become a big mess.

2) Who wants a job in South Miami?  Tuesdays/Thursdays in the evening, teaching a college English course.  You need a Master's in English or communications, or you can be a current student with 18 Master's-level credits in English or Communications.  Big fun, it is, I highly recommend.  Starts right away.

3) Are any of you, dear readers, going on the Atlantis or the RSVP or the Pied Piper cruises that are leaving from Ft. Lauderdale in February?  The first 2 weeks of February are going to be Gay Cruiseapalooza down here, and ships filled with fancy-boys launch off into the ocean blue.  If anything happens to those ships out there floating around, the entire U.E. interior design industry will come to a screeching halt.

4) I had an anxiety attack at the supermarket a few days ago.  Let me tell you why: the availability of Almond M&Ms is steadily decreasing, as fewer and fewer stores stock this particular candy item on their shelves.  I am terrified that the candy will be discontinued due to low sales.  Therefore, I have taken the responsibility upon myself to buy as many packages of these magical little morsels and eat them all myself, in order to drive the market.  It's a big job, but I'm very brave when it comes to the welfare of my candy foodstuffs.  I encourage you to help me out on my quest.

LIBRARY

It's Saturday. I'm busy-busy at work: one of the schools where I teach needed someone to cover the library today, so I raised my hand and volunteered.  Librarying is hard work, y'all.  I have to sit here, and, like...sit here...someone asked me how to reserve a film projector and I honestly had no idea what to do.  Hey, I just work here, I don't know how to actually do anything.

 

If anyone messes up my books, this is what I am going to do:

MARTHA MAKES HER MOVE

 

"Your patty's perfect."

--Martha Stewart to Tim McGraw

I am currently watching Martha Stewart cook turkey-and-quinoa patties with Tim McGraw.  In the span of a few minutes, she has made more mistakes than she has in the entire history of this show.  Food processor: put on backwards.  Lid to the container: dropped and bounced across the counter.  When Tim McGraw stuck his finger into the peanut sauce, and then stuck it in his mouth, Martha fluttered due to the shock from the presence of his raw, unsterilized finger in her sauce and the resulting hot flash brought on my sexual frustration. I do believe Martha is making a play for Mr. McGraw.

I present this exchange while learning cooking skills:

McGraw: I don't want to embarrass my wife.

Stewart: You're not embarrassing me...

Mmm-hmmm.

 

 

 

TWO WEEKS

I've been on a cruise for two weeks.

Coming back to real-life is such a buzz-kill, it's almost not worth leaving in the first place.  Just kidding.  A little R&R was very much in order, not that I have a highly-stressful existence; but getting away helps clear the soul and refocus the mind.  I was on two cruises, back-to-back, throughout the Central America region in the Gulf of Mexico.  Cozumel: check.  Montego Bay: check.  Roatan: totally got almost-robbed, very scary.  Note to future travelers: when you exit the port, turn right.  Don't walk to the left.

I took a few photos, I'll post them later.

What WAS depressing was coming home and seeing my apartment exactly the same as it was when I left, except with a layer of dust over everything.   I did all my laundry the night before I left; I have a little washing machine, but no dryer, so I lay everything out to dry. Alas, I woke up late the next morning and didn't have the mental focus to pack properly.  Instead, I went to my closet, extended my arms in front of myself like a giant clamp, and inserted my hands into a selection of clothes.  I closed my arms together, and...those were the clothes I took with me.  My closet is organized by color, so into my suitcase went a variety of shirts in the orange/red/lavender range.  Three pairs of pants, five pairs of socks, a handful of underpants.  No shorts.  No swimsuit.  Why would I need shorts or a swimsuit for a cruise to Cozumel? 

I should mention this cruise was with T.L., my former paramour, who works on the ship.  This is where being in same-sex relationships comes in handy: if you need clothes, you have double the wardrobe available.  Unfortumately, T.L. is a size 28 waist (BITCH), while I am a 34 (on a "skinny" day).  And he is from Latin America, where men prefer wearing Speedos; so although I was fortunate to borrow his swimsuit, it meant I had to wear a Speedo, size medium.  It looked somewhat unfortunate.

There shant be photos of that part of my travels.