Seems like a long time...

I know I rarely miss a Blog day, but I've had some off-line life going on that was catching my attention.
Let's just say when the sodomy law was overturned by the somewhat Supreme Court, I felt a need to celebrate. The cops didn't bust in and arrest us, so I guess the new law has some teeth in it.
Not to get into things too deeply, but suffice it to say la and I had a long talk on Thursday and spent some very nice time together since then. Being jittery about dumping and getting dumped again, we agreed to say we are NOT back together, just 'back in communication.'
Sometimes in the face of transition and potential turmoil, the best thing to do is simplify. So, simply put, we love each other and otherwise we don't know shit from Shinola about the rest. One day at a time. That's the ticket.
Meanwhile, as I was maniacally painting my dining room early last week, I found lodged behind a cabinet a large, colored pencil rendition I had nearly finished of a Monet water lily painting.
I finished it over the weekend and realized I had more or less forgotten about the zenlike properties of making art. So I think I am about to have an art spurt.
Last night I tested the limits of my glucose tolerance by making dinner for my sister Jan and me. I made a nice salad with field greens, tomatoes, fresh herbs, balsamic vinaigrette and tamari almonds, then I made fusilli with chicken, caramelized red onions, fresh rosemary and gorgonzola. We also had several hunks of a baguette, dredged in olive oil with cracked black pepper. And we split a bottle of superb Malbec from Argentina.
I was fretting about my glucose numbers this morning, but I was relieved to find a respectable 113. A count of 124 or higher is considered active diabetic, so I skated by another little test of intake vs. output.
The 4th of July holiday weekend promises to be a lot of fun. While la plans to spend her holiday at the coast with three talkative girlfriends and a Border collie in an RV, I plan to hang out some with Katie, the woman who gave me James the kitten. She's coming in from San Diego to escape the cool ocean breezes and abundant flora. Go figure.
Meanwhile, Katharine Hepburn died. I loved her.
Jodie Foster better toughen up and start to emulate her, because she's about the closest thing we have left to the old legend. Jodie could start by coming out of the closet. Not that Hepburn was a lesbian, but she had tendencies.
Anyway, farewell to Ms. Hepburn. I'm going to miss knowing she's around.

Hi

Sorry to be Blog-dormant these past few days.
All is well. Be back soon. :D

A Twofer!

Not only did mega-rightwing Republican Strom Thurmond die yesterday at age 100, the U.S. Supreme Court overturned a Texas sodomy law which is essence made it a crime for two consenting gay adults to have sex in the privacy of their home.
Justice Antonin Scalia wrote a blistering dissent on the 6-3 opinion.
I guess he thinks it's okay for the cops to bust in on a private residence over a trumped up allegation of gunfire being heard and arrest and imprison a couple for making love.
Sodomy is not just anal sex. It's everything BUT standard, heterosexual intercourse.
If you are a straight man who enjoys giving and receiving oral sex, Antonin Scalia thinks you are a criminal.
If you are a lesbian who penetrates your lover with your fingers or sex toys, Scalia thinks you deserve to be arrested, jailed and fined.
If you are a straight woman who has blown your man or even gotten near his anus, Scalia thinks you too are a depraved Sodomite.
Fortunately, six of our Supreme Court justices saw things differently.
And as for Strom Thurmond, rest in peace, Bubba.
I know it'll be hot where you're going, but hey, you're Southern, you'll get used to it.

Silver Stars Again

Today our semi popular WNBA team the Sauna Antonio Silver Stars have a home game at noon. How convenient for all the season ticket holding gym teachers who are off for the summer!
Anyway, I can't resist those plushy 6th row seats, so I am going.
We are playing the arrogant Los Angeles Sparks, and I'll actually be close enough to heckle the loathsome Lisa Leslie.
Being primarily a Spurs fan- who incidentally are the reigning world champions- I am accustomed to rooting for the overdogs. That will not be the case today.
I just hope our 7'2" center Margo Dykedick remembers to put her arms in the air on defense and aim for the hoop on offense. Her stats are not entirely bad, she does lead the team in foul percentages. Collecting them, I mean.
Guard Jennifer Azzi is pretty good, I guess. She's got some incredible arms to look at, at any rate. Her stats aren't so hot, but she certainly is.
The Sparks are on a 9-game winning streak and lead the West in standings.
I think this game might require some beer. Lots of beer.

How Much Would You Take?

Anna and another pal and I were sitting around my living room the other night and playing a game we like called "How Much Would You Take?"
We then describe horrid scenarios for each other and the victim says how much money it would take for her to do it.
After a few rounds, I asked Anna how much it would take for her to lay her head on her mother's lap while her mom stroked her hair. I think she said $10,000.
Then she asked me what it would cost for me (get this) to lie on my back in bed, wearing only a bra and panties, while my father rubbed Vicks Vaporub on my chest.
The game ended there.
I am still cringing.
Lemme ask some regular commenters:
Spacemonk, how much would you take to eat a rare porterhouse steak?
Barcode, how much would you take to go down on Hillary Clinton?
JadedJu and Shelley, how much would it take for you two to do a commercial together endorsing pickled pigs' feet?
Greybird, how much for you to post a streaming video of you and Mel going at it?
Nashvillian, how much for you to do Barbara Bush... Greek doggie style?
Melly, how much for you to wear only my clothes and shoes for a year?
Chari, how much for me to have just one naughty sleepover date with the Princess?
Tracy, how much would it take for you to appear on Anna Nicole's show as her blind date and go with her to a dildo party?
Wken, how much for you to join a celibate monastery for a year where cameras follow you 24/7 to make sure you don't even touch it?
See? It pays to comment here.

Who Let the Dogs In?

After a long hot day, a friend of mine dropped by last night for a visit.
It was one of those nights when hot food sounded sickening, so we just had fresh tomatoes and basil with some diced Oaxaca cheese and balsamic vinegar thrown in.
We were both too lethargic to do anything else, so staring at the TV seemed the path of least resistance.
Has anyone seen "Dog Eat Dog"? It's embarrassingly imbecilic, therefore I loved it.
It features contestants who are short on brains and long on hard bodies. They have to swim really well, otherwise they may as well be doorstops.
It was followed by a reality show where 10 comedians live together in a Hollywood mansion, each trying to be the last one remaining.
Last night they booted this weird guy from Austin who was funny on stage but a complete dick to everyone when he was in the house. His personality was so split, he reminded me of Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Heckle.
It's no Survivor, but it may have to do until the next Survivor series begins.

Baby Love

My friends Cynthia and Ruben are preparing for the birth of their adopted baby Caleb.
He's due out in a week or so. Time to go shopping!

Harry Potter Book 5

I am 200 pages into this 820-page mammoth of a book and it sure doesn't seem like a children's book to me.
This one is far darker and has lots more characters. Harry, Ron and Hermoine have gone from being cute little kids to quirky puberty people.
That was to be expected, but J.K. Rowling has done an especially good job with the age transitions.
No, I don't know who died yet and I am praying some overachiever on the Internet doesn't blab the secret before I can read it for myself.
Just before I received the HP5 book, I had cracked open "Caramelo," by Sandra Cisneros.
She's a local loca with a purple house.
Seems she bought a house in the King William district, which is a staid and historical old neighborhood, and she promptly painted her house purple with turquoise trim.
The old school establishment residents (read: old fat white guys) objected, saying the colors were not in keeping with historical traditions.
Well, Sandra told them that back when those rules were established, Mexican Americans were not allowed to move into that 'hood and pick their own colors.
So, everyone who supported her in the neighborhood started tying purple ribbons around their trees, causing a commotion that finally allowed her to keep her purple house.
I've seen her house many times and it's really nicely done.
Anyway, she's a hell of a writer whose books make you want to go out afterwards and drink tequila shooters and maybe get a tattoo of the Virjen de Guadalupe.

On Spiritual Evolution

You know, as one gets older, one starts to seek a firmer spiritual foundation where serenity and a closer relationship with God becomes far more paramount to a fulfilled and happy existence.
My own quest for spiritual growth has been coming along pretty well, except for a few minor bumps in the road.
I pray for relief from those vexations to my spirit:

Dear God,
Please smite my stupid big sister and make her shut up and stop being so fucking bossy. (Sorry about the "fucking" part, God, I am still a student here).
Also God, if you would, please stop interrupting my really good sex life with my partners' emotional issues. I don't want issues, God, I just want more of those big fat orgasms that cause me to Praise Your Name out loud.
And if you will, God, could you please find a way to make Healthy Choice sugar-free ice cream in a way that doesn't cause such disgustingly loud flatulence and the noxious fumes that accompany it? Same with soy beans, God, could you zap some of the gas out of those, too?
Also, as I sit outside to contemplate all the Glory You Created, could you please lower the humidity and temperature a tad, and kill off all those fucking mosquitoes?
Another thing, God, could you please call on your angels to avenge the devil called Mailer Daemon who filleth my e-mail box with vermin and evil? He also goes by the name of Spam and offers filthy temptations like penis enlargement and Viagra by mail. He must be stopped, his evil empire is growing.
Another small item, if You will. There's a person here on Earth called George W. Bush who leadeth us toward the rings of Hell. He makes war in Your name, he spends our money on evil things and he seems to be just the kind of wolf in sheep's clothing You warned us about in that Book of yours. Could you just smite him around a little?

Thank You for all Your heavenly blessings (besides these small detours to my spiritual awakening),

Karen

Scandalizing the Rich White Folks

My best friend Anna lives in the ritzy part of town, with the kind of neighbors who are named Biff and Bitsy, leftover from their ivy league fraternity and sorority days.
It's not uncommon to see streets in that neighborhood cordoned off with Secret Service agents stationed all over the place so Dubya can visit his rich contributor pals unmolested by the common folks.
So one evening, Anna and her husband Brad are lounging in the backyard by their pool, listening to some easy, breezy Parisian lounge music at a fairly loud volume, courtesy of their all-weather BOSE external speakers.
Suddenly the mostly jazzy, non-lyrical music segues into a sort of rap song.
The lyrics went something like this:
"Hey muthafucka bring some dope to my house then I'll fuck you in the ass then we smoke some muthafuckin crack..."
Anna and Brad looked at each other in shock, worrying what the neighbors might think.
Then they just settled back in and let the music play.