You're maudlin and full of self-pity. You're magnificent!

OK - so I had to go to A Mano (one of the best yarn stores in Los Angeles) to pick up some yarn because I ran out just as I was ending my project (of course). So I drove to Venice on Saturday and they had just what I needed! One gorgeous hank of UNIKAT by Skakel. So so beautiful. I am in love with this yarn. I want to design new colorways for this yarn.

Anyway, on my way home from A Mano, my car stopped at a store that I have been eyeing for many a month. It is called Beautilities and it has certainly been on Venice Blvd for over 50 years.
First off, this is a brilliant name. Beautilities - beauty and utility all packed into one store.
Second, there was a big sign out front that said WIG SALE and
Third, there was a parking space right in front.

I did not have to tell my car to pull over, it knows what I want. It didn't even ask, just pulled right over in the middle of Venice Blvd.

I love wigs. It is one of my secret loves because until now I would wear wigs at appropriate occasions (which does not happen nearly as often as I would like). Now with the whole "living out loud" project (heretofore known as the LOLP), I bought a wig, just to wear whenever the hell I feel like it! Amazing how stifled I have been my entire freaking life.

Picture this scene. I walk into Beautilities. It is slightly warm and the warehouse sized store is overstuffed with costumes, makeup, and up front, racks and racks of wigs. From the back, a man I now know to be Rick came up and asked if I needed some help. I said I needed a wig. He asked what it was for, I told him, it was to wear. We tried curly ones and long ones, and most of those looked hideous on me. Then Rick brought out the Eve #130. It was hot. Rick thought it looked hot and I thought it looked hot. Just for kicks I tried on the Cindy #130 but no, it was all about Eve.

(by the way - my title today, just in case you're not a big queen, was one of the billions of brilliant lines in All About Eve - this particular one spoken by Addison DeWitt - played by George Sanders).

So here's Rick - he's a total mensch (that's a good thing to be for you readers who happen to not be Jewish, from New York or LA). He also let me know that he totally appreciates the chicks in the new Dove ads and thinks I'm sexy. That was before he knew that I was a married lesbian - and really, how would he know!?!?! It's not like I have a big tattoo across my chest saying Dyke married to Fag...Although I've thought about it...anyway, he's apologized profusely and totally unnecessarily for assuming something or another...

Anyway, Rick is a really sweet and patient guy. He should not be single. He also likes chicks who wear glasses - as do I! This is something Rick and I have in common.

And now for two assignments:

If you need a wig or costume for any reason, I totally recommend Beautilities. Rick is way nicer than anyone has ever been at Hollywood Toy & Costume. Trust me on this one.

If you haven't rented All About Eve in a while, I highly recommend it and if you find a copy of The Women on DVD, buy it for me. I'll pay you back. Promise!!! Have a great week y'all!

P.S. I don't quite have a hot pic of myself in the Eve #130 yet. When I do, I'll put it up.

PUBLISH ME DAMN IT!!!!

This is me. I took this picture 6 hours ago. I am still sitting in the same place. I have done 6 pushups today - one for each trip to the kitchen where I stood looking in the refrigerator which happens to be bare except for some milk and a couple of limes. I get up and go to the kitchen to look at the very clean refrigerator every time I can't figure out what I want to be writing and/or my ass goes numb from sitting on it for too long.

I am currently hard at work on my book proposal for my new future agent (furiously crossing fingers, legs, toes, eyelashes). I really want to impress this guy so I am sitting up working on my proposal at a quarter after midnight. I am now nearly blind and my hair looks as if I have been through a wind tunnel. My skin is blotchy because my room is still 85 degrees F.

By the way, I bought my glasses at an antique shop in Banning last year. Fun, huh?

I am not complaining though (see this is me not complaining) because I am going to get my book published. Wheeeee!

More good news! Obviously, since you can see new pictures of me, my new camera showed up today. I love my new camera. If I wasn't already married, I'd marry my new camera. The video setting records audio. How freaking exciting is that? I also took a picture of my workspace. This is the space where I work. I'm sure that the feng shui is totally shitty but I'm an atheist as well as a total skeptic about everything - so I'm not all that concerned.

Hey, at least I have one of those bamboo thingies. (By the way, this also happens to be a photo of the offending desk of previous postings.) Anyway, I think I'll put on some Law and Order - or maybe CSI will be on Spike. I'll drift off to Marg Helgenberger dusting prints....

Writing my ass off!!!

OK - this is going to be a short one because most of my writing energy is currently going into editing so I can get my manuscript out.

I am so jazzed about this weekend's meeting with the literary agent that I have been writing my ass off. Literally. Yesterday I spent 2 hours at Starbucks. I thought I could go there, plug my laptop in, grab a sandwich and edit my book (for the 14th time). Can you believe it, Starbucks had no sandwiches, no salads. Here I am trying to follow some kind of plan and...nada! Nothing! I am foiled! But all is not lost, friends, I actually made the most decent choice. I ordered an iced coffee and a yogurt. I did not touch the rice krispies treats or the other sugary, doughy goodness because I was writing my ass off!!! A-May-Zing. I realize that coffee is neither a food, nor a food group, but it was the best I could do at the time...

My support group ended last night, which is a bummer because I really got a lot out of it. I have never been in a room of people where I felt totally comfortable telling the bottom of the barrel, decomposed crap in my life and most of them have, if not done exactly what I have, have probably done worse.

Still no freakin' camera (it should be here by Friday) so I have no photos of Stitch n' Bitch last night. Here's a random photo from my collection though, just to amuse you, my lovely and devoted readers.

Thanks!!!

What a freakin' lovely weekend!

I had a really lovely weekend y'all. You know, it was one of those weekends I wasn't expecting much from. I had some plans but they could have all been busts.

The events could have been totally lame in and of themselves or I could have been so hating my body that I wasn't enjoying anything. But no!!! This did not happen and I had one hell of a lovely weekend.

First, on Saturday, Justin asked me to join him at the L.A. Gay and Lesbian Center Book Fair. There were lectures all day and there were two that he wanted to attend. These could have been extremely lame. They were not! The first was a panel on Telling Your Story. You can see how I might have had some misgivings. This could have been a panel of really marginal, self-published authors talking about themselves for an hour. It happened to be three writers that I enjoy and one that I have every intention of enjoying sometime in the near future. They talked about real stuff. Why "creative non-fiction" is sometimes better than memoir. What audience you should write for (by the way, the answer is yourself). The courage to write whatever the hell you want to write and if you're a good writer, someone will read you. They were funny and smart. I was quite energized by the whole thing.

Later we went to a seminar on getting a literary agent. I need a new agent since I kind of let mine go about 2 years ago. They had a successful agent there - he happens to represent, among many others, the estate of Camus. I am now impressed. He was fucking fabulous. I would love to share everything he said. I wish I had brought a tape recorder so I could remember it all. The end of this is he gave me his e-mail address after the seminar ended and told me to contact him. Yay!!! I am doing that this morning.

Saturday night when I went home, I spent the rest of the night writing out the first inklings of a book I've been talking about writing for years. I think I finally have the material. Very very amped about this whole thing.

Sunday was a total blast. Michael and I went with the gay motorcycle gang, Oedipus, on a ride up to Neptune's Net in Ventura, then up to the Rock Store in Malibu and then through Topanga Canyon. I think we were on the bike a total of five hours. It was so gorgeous. We took some beautiful routes and the ocean was gorgeous. As you all know, I am the whitest girl in white town and I burned the shit out of my arms, despite slathering layers of SPF 92 all over my body. The worst part is I wore a t-shirt and gloves, guess where the burn starts and ends. Totally lame!!!

Anyway, after the ride we went to Mr. S Leather in Silverlake (careful clicking on this link - there is a lot of kink and nakedness) where Michael has been buying all manner of thingies and such. Everyone there was super nice to me despite being the only woman within about a half block of the store. I've decided I want to intern there. Me working there is not all kinky - so get your mind out of there...

This September I'm going to be following in Sara and Peggy's footsteps and taking Introduction to Apparel Construction at Otis College of Art and Design. Mr. S does all the alterations in shop and their work is really exquisite. They work on a lot of latex and rubber but mostly leather and they tailor each piece of clothing to the wearer. I just want to watch them. If they want, I'll empty garbage and pick up fallen snaps off the floor. Whatever, I just want to learn to do what they do. Their work is so perfect - I figure a couple of months of them teaching me everything they know and I'll be able to sew anything.

We left Mr. S hopped back on the bike and headed home where 50 e-mail messages greeted me congratulating Michael and I on our article in Frontiers. I sent out a press release and was so surprised at the response I got.

I'm feeling good people. Woo hoo - that Prozac is just totally working! I should have my brand spanking new camera by Friday so until then...no photos, but more of this would be nice!

xo

My 12th minute of fame...

I've had my share of fame. One might call me a media whore. I would not necessarily have a leg to stand on if I objected.

In college I participated in many a protest that landed me in the newspaper or KTLA News at 5. I was also the femmiest dyke on campus - which wasn't saying much because there were about two of us who were actually out - AND I was the director of the campus Women's Center so I tended to comment in the campus paper about any random queer or chick-related event.

At AIDS Project Los Angeles, where I worked for many, many years, I was chosen to be the agency spokesperson on Eazy-E's death from HIV-related causes ('cause I'm down wit' da gangsta rap....). After that I got to comment on every freakin' women and HIV story that broke in the mid-90's. Then I went on to UCLA where I was asked to comment on HIV vaccine research for various publications. Then the whole Young Wives' Tales thing and with Stitch n' Bitch being all hip n' shit, I've been interviewed quite a few times on that subject. I have a bulging (he he - I said bulging) file of press clippings. Here is my latest.

On page 77 of this month's Frontiers Newsmagazine is a feature on Metro Limousine, owned and founded by Michael and me. The article is titled Seven Gay Entrepreneurs Who Have Made Their Mark. You have got to check out what they wrote about us!

The article includes this lovely photo of us and though it is chock full of misquotes, none actually misrepresent us - which is amazing because I don't think I've ever been quoted where something I've said hasn't been misrepresented. This is some excellent press - in our target market! - and I'm certain that it will drum up some new business for us. It also happens to be Metro Limousine's 5th anniversary this month - which is a huge deal.

How many levels of hell are there???

OK - so for all of you readers who are still with me, thanks!!! Y'all must be saying to yourselves "OMG - she mentions levels of hell IN THE TITLE!!! This should be a really fun read...not!"

Michael was out of town doing fun, yet truly unspeakable things. I'm not living out loud about him though, so you're not going to hear it from me.

I had a pretty spectacularly hideous weekend. Again with the fun reading!!!

Work was a little overwhelming. I had to do a run, meaning I had to play chauffeur on Sunday and let me tell you, nothing makes me unhappier. Especially since I said I'd NEVER do that again. There I was, in the black suit...crap!

Anyway, I also had an emotional rollercoaster of a weekend involving a sexual assault that happened 17 years ago. All of this freakin' therapy is bringing out things that I had fairly well repressed. Did I need to start having flashbacks on Thursday night? Apparently the answer is a resounding "yes!" I got a lot of support from my therapy team but sleep was a commodity I was very short on. Which does not make for a particularly happy Faith. In fact, Faith gets very cranky and starts talking like Bob Dole when she does not have sleep.

"That is what sleeping pills are for!" you say. Yes. I agree. Not to mention, I have a supply in perhaps six or seven different forms, almost all of them legally obtained - however, phones ringing at 4 a.m. from London clients who are expecting a 24 hour a day business to be open like they said they would is not a conducive environment for taking pills that tend to make me comatose. Boo fucking hoo...

Did anyone see the article in today's L.A. Times about "anti-hipsters"? Well they mention Stitch n' Bitch. We're apparently granny chic!!! Hysterical!!!

Last night we had a particularly amusing evening at SnB. I had to take some notes, it was getting so crazy. At the Santa Monica meeting we can't even drink - unlike WeHo and yet we still talked about Camus and how amusing he is in all of his existentialist nihilism. We talked about Scientology and how freaking crazy they are...(just the opinion of the author people. You can't sue Blogger for that and don't even try suing me. I own an LLC and you can't touch it. The only other possession I have is a 1995 honda civic and frankly, if you really want that, you can have it. I'm not having children - so first borns are out of the question.) We talked about our fake names (which is different from a porn name). I've decided I need a really Jewishy fake name so I've come up with Sophie Rothbergstein. What do you think???

Tomorrow I'll be talking about the article in Frontiers about Michael and me. Tune in tomorrow!!!! Same blog time, same blog channel...

Camera broken - can't...go...on...must...get...new...one...

Great. So I went to the Grand Canyon in March. I hiked into the canyon with my camera strapped to the outside of my backpack and smacked it up against the side of the canyon constantly. Here is one of the photos from my trip from a sunrise hike.





Then, in May, Michael and I went to Calico Ghost Town with the Satyrs, a gay motorcycle gang (yes, there really are gay motorcycle gangs. The Satyrs happen to be the oldest continuously operating motorcycle gang in California - gay or straight. They call themselves a club but I like gang better. It sounds way cooler and gives the whole thing an air of danger, despite being a bunch of burping, farting, beer swigging, fairies. There are more gay motorcycle gangs as well - I'll tell you all about them later. The guys are really nice to the lesbian wife, by the way.) Here is a photo from the ride out to Calico.



We don't have saddlebags on our bike yet. They're really expensive - especially since Michael is insisting on hard glossy cases rather than leather which I think are way more bikery. He thinks the hard cases are hotter and they keep out rain, which we get so much of in L.A., especially when the bike is parked in a covered parking garage when it's raining and anytime it's not being ridden. Anyway, on the way home, we strapped our bright yellow RSVP Cruise backpack to the sissy bar (hot...) and headed off. Well, it seems that I might have messed with the bungee cords and the backpack flew off the bike going about 75 mph in the middle of the 15 freeway. With my camera inside. So is it any wonder that now my camera is not working...Crap!!!!

Due to this unfortunate loss, I could not take any pictures of Wesley's 5th birthday. However, it was fun and Wes got some really cool gifts, including a guitar from Aunt Faith and Uncle Michael. He's already a natural. His dad, Shannon, showed him how to hold it and from then on, he was strumming away!

Anyway. Now I need a new camera. This sucks but not as much as some things. I'll try to get one by the end of the week. This week, however, I'll be showing photos from my vast archives. Get used to it.

xxoo

Strange Fruit

I have spent the last 36 hours in deep thought. Deep, painful, ugly thought. Good stuff...

First off, last night Justin and I went to see a movie at OutFest called Strange Fruit. The title is based on Billie Holliday's song of the same name which is about lynchings in the south. It is a beautiful and haunting song and if you have never heard it, you must. Immediately. It is a part of this country's heritage - ugly and sad and important.

One of Metro Limousine's drivers, Kyle Schickner, wrote and directed Strange Fruit. Essentially it is a story of a gay black man who leaves Louisiana and goes to NYC but when his high school friend is lynched he returns to Louisiana to solve the crime. It is a scary and thought provoking film with great acting and a really thoughtful plot. I am incredibly proud of Kyle's work and I highly recommend checking it out. It'll be out on DVD sometime this year.


Second, every Tuesday night for the last 13 weeks I have been going to an eating disorders support group. This group is where a bunch of really great anorexics, bulimics and compulsive eaters get together learn how to deal and discuss our issues - magazine racks chock full of issues! An entire subscription! Newsstands full of freakin' issues!

This week we discussed body image. Needless to say in a room of women with various EDs, our collective body image sucks ass.

Now I can usually speak volumes about my body image. I can tell Bob and Leigh (aforementioned therapists) all of the things I feel about my body, I can journal for pages on end about each body part. This week however, during group, it was like my brain completely shut down and I could not access any of these thoughts I have about my body. In fact, I could barely access my brain at all. This is not a common occurrence for me. In fact, I can't remember it ever happening before. I can usually chat on and on for hours! I have something to say about everything! It was as if I thought that if I actually accessed it, I would go a little nuts (.....MUST be in control!) and there was no freakin' way I was going to tell all at that moment. Nice, protective brain function....

Obviously this is a big giant issue for me. Like Martha Stewart before the unfortunate jail sentence or a fall fashion issue of Vanity Fair with Angelina on the cover - that big...

BTW, have you seen the new Dove Firming Cream ads? Other than the fact that they are for firming cream, (which makes sense because only big girls "need" firming cream, right?) they are using real women in their ads with hips and thighs. Now they probably won't use these women for their soap ads because god forbid anyone think they are going to look like that after using Dove soap and go running for the Ivory hills. Anyway, it's just kinda nice to see women on billboards who look like they've eaten this week.

Speaking of eating - tonight is Stitch n' Bitch at the Farmer's Market in WeHo where fresh and strange fruit abounds.

As promised...butt sex!

So last night was Stitch n' Bitch original. Great crowd, fun conversation. We discussed:

• pens, though I missed that conversation (unfortunately),
• math and how girls are told that math is hard and peer pressure sets in so we all become math idiots instead of the math geeks we should have been with a little practical application and a half-way decent teacher rather than Mrs. Shakib, an Israeli former drill sergeant who was not particularly nice.
  
• Karl Rove (who is responsible for everything bad) and Scott McClellan who got his ass whipped by Helen Thomas and the rest of the White House press corps yesterday. I enjoyed watching this like a ten year old boy in 1977 likes watching Star Wars. Basically, I'm jumping up and down alone in my living room screaming "Go Helen!!!!"
• Wimpy knitters who disappear during the summer despite the availability of SUMMER YARNS!
• How gay porn is better than all other porn because everyone is attractive and there are no fake body parts
• My guest starring role in a Chi Chi LaRue feature entitled Gold Diggers. Which happens to be gay porn featuring quite a bit of butt sex. You won't find my real name attached to this flick because I have a porn name. No really, I actually do have a porn name.

This is one of those things you did not know about me. OK, a few of you know but not most of you. Now I did this particular flick almost a decade ago and it was decent money and at the time all of my friends were doing it - except they were not non-sexual extras and I was. Here is the basic plot:

A rich guy fakes his death and all of his friends (who are gold diggers) must have butt sex with each other in order to get his money. Where do I fit in? I am the sister of the "deceased" (yes, really) and I get the house in the Hamptons during the reading of the will. I cry very melodramatically during said reading which no one has seen because everyone who has ever watched this video has fast-forwarded through this part because it is plot exposition and features no butt sex!

For the final reveal, what is my porn name? you ask. OK, it is really dorky. You know the saying "Faith an' Begorra"? It's an Irish saying sort of meaning "Well I'll be!". Well, my stage name is Ann Begora. Seriously, is that not totally dorky!

With all of that to muse upon, have a great day!

Wanna publish a book?

Part of this whole "Living out Loud" thang that I am doing involves asking for help. I don't really do that, however I am going to right now. HELP!!!

If anyone is interested in publishing a great book, I have one ready to be published. It's been edited even. By a Ph.D. in English.

I had an agent but she pretty much didn't do anything so I wasted 2 years with that. Contract expired, got rid of her ass.

Then there was the whole aforementioned time spent in bed not doing anything. That would be another year, year and a half-ish.

Essentially I've had this book on my hands for closing in on 9 years now. Everyone who has read it thinks it's brilliant - not tooting horn, just reporting facts.

What is this book? You ask. I can hear you. I'm a little psychic that way. I'll tell you but I swear if a book comes out with this title and it wasn't written by me I will track you down. I know people.
The book is called What Can I Do? It is for people who know someone with a serious or terminal illness. It is not for primary caregivers. It is, however for the people who want to do something, but think, "I don't know what to do, she probably already has 10 bouquets of flowers and how helpful are flowers, really?" It has chapters including:
-Survivors of violence
-Survivors of suicide
-Anorexia/Bulimia nervosa (a personal favorite)
-What to say and what NOT to say
-Health and Humor
-Free stuff you can do
-Talking about God
-Notes on Hope
and so much more....

I've gotten about 50 rejection letters so far. "Why?" you ask (again with the ESP - freaky, huh?). I will tell you. When you send out a book proposal you are not allowed to send the book. They will put it in the trash if you do and that is a lot of wasted paper. You are supposed to send a proposal giving an overview of the book. Apparently the geniuses at these literary agencies cannot see from said proposal how this book might work, and so they send letters on pretty letterhead saying "Thanks but F- you. " Not in those words, but that's what it sounded like on this end.

It even has a chapter on how to write a little note to your sick or grieving friend!!! Fer gad's sake people!!! Help me publish my book. If you know anyone who would take a look at it, if you want to come over and help me with a new book proposal that might be catchier than the last one, if you have a great idea for how to get this book out on shelves, let me know. I'm totally open to suggestions.

Thank you in advance lovely readers.

Faith

Living out loud

Hey!!! Happy Monday y'all!

I am well recovered from my weekend now. I had a weekend such as I have not had in many a year. I have learned of another new concept (no relation to breakfast dessert). It is called "butt boxing." Needless to say, it ain't pretty but it is really amusing. See photo for obvious description of said "sport". Of course I was quite intoxicated (an incredibly rare occurrence for me) so you might chalk the amusing part up to that. I attended the bachelorette party of a friend - (BTW - there are no incriminating photos of people on this website but if those who attended would like to get a look at them, check your e-mail later)

Seriously though, the last time I had a cocktail was like in the early part of this millenium. I haven't had the spins since last century. I haven't been to a straight club in like a decade. It was a hell of a weekend. I actually wore high heels and a boa. I had a double shot of something bought for me by this really nice chick from Houston. I danced! I hope there are no incriminating photographs. I was however, living out loud. Which was my challenge for the weekend. I believe I succeeded. Not that getting all drunk is necessarily living out loud but I'm usually too uptight to even do that!!! Scaaaaary.

You see for about a year around the 2003-4-ish years, I did not get out of bed. OK, I went to Stitch n' Bitch, but that's about all. I was seriously unwell. Prozac and my therapists, hereto referred to by their actual names, Bob and Leigh, have been unbelievably helpful. (Tom Cruise, on the other hand, not particularly helpful) I must thank Jane for this - Jane is a truly out loud fabulous woman who is also a therapist and is married to possibly the most incredibly aware and introspective guy I've ever met. His name is Brian and he's a rabbi. Check out Brian's stuff here - it's pretty damn cool. Anyway, (off topic much?) Jane referred me to Bob, who referred me to Leigh both of whom are really awesome and have guided me into starting to live out loud.

In my ideal world, once the shame and shit is scraped off the top, I'm going to be a very bold chick. Some of you have already told me that you think of me that way now. I appreciate that immensely - you see, however, I don't believe it yet. I'm beginning to though.

This blog is one of the things that is helping me to live out loud. You see,
1) I am currently not in bed
2) I am writing which is a good thing to do
3) I am telling the truth (with only embellishments for humor's sake)
4) I am showing this writing to the whole world, hence the "out loud" part.

Perhaps one day I will get my g-damn book published (hey, next installment: Wanna publish a really great book?).

Anyhew people, I have some work to do but I thought I'd update you, let you know I am well and inform you about the new sport. Have a great day!!!

Faith finally figured out fotos!!!

Just an FYI to all of my L.A. readers. Laurel Canyon has apparently developed a very large sink hole and is therefore, closed to all traffic at least through the weekend. End of report.

Here are some photos from my week. You can see what I did. First, as I told you, I went to a big ol' motorcycle hangout called Newcomb's Ranch. Here are some of our fellow riders. The guys in the vests with the big patches on the back were really sweet. The whole biker thing is really segmented, quite a lot like the rest of our society. The cruiser (think Harley-looking bikes for those of you not in-the-know), is what we have but we have a Honda cruiser which is gorgeous and awesome and way more reliable than a Harley (which I'm not going to get into here because tensions can run very high on this issue). All of the bikers on cruisers, whether a Harley, Honda, Suzuki, Indian, etc. all have a secret wave on the road. We only wave at other cruisers. Now check out the right hand side of this photo. These are sport bikes. Sport bikes are also called crotch rockets. They do not wave to us and we do not wave to them. I've tried. It doesn't work. They do not wear the same gear and they generally don't have passengers. When they do, she is usually hanging on for dear life, whereas I can take pictures at 80 miles and hour and feel very safe.

Then, we traveled back to the valley where I got all "safe" at 80 miles an hour and took a photo on the 134 freeway. Check out the speedometer. We are totally riding over the speed limit!!! We are so bad! I had a lot of fun on this ride. I have more pictures if you ever want to see them. So that was my Saturday. Michael and I also saw Bewitched where I learned that I am not the only psycho that eats Cool Whip straight out of the tub. Gross but yummy.


On Monday, we had a little family 4th of July gathering and the Anderson clan came. Here is a picture of Kristin with the ever-angelic Grant.


He has the cutest hair. He doesn't really talk a lot and when he does it's pretty unintelligible, but that's ok because his big brother Wesley knows what he's saying. He does know how to say "bubbles" and Wesley spent a good deal of the afternoon making bubbles so that Grant could jump around and pop the bubbles and say "Bubbles!!!" This is a picture of Wesley making bubbles.

As it should be, the kids stayed in the pool until their lips were blue, which seems to be the international sign for "really, now it is time to get out of the pool." Despite all previous attempts, this time seems to work with the least amount of resistance.

As proscribed, we had chips, burgers, hot dogs, corn on the cob, beans and an apple crisp. Could this be any more American? Two tow headed children playing with sparklers would be the coup de grace. So we did that too.







On Tuesday night, after a rousing therapy session (had to get that in there somewhere), I went to Stitch n' Bitch Santa Monica, the original L.A. Stitch n' Bitch. It was a slow night, only about 12 people showed up - however, we had a special surprise guest! Brantlea, who left us to move to the San Gabriel Valley showed up with her knitted womb. The knitted womb pattern is from Knitty if anyone's interested. It is such a pretty and life-sized womb.

My camera, after all of these events, finally gave out right after this picture.

So this is my week. So exciting! So filled with all-American goodness.

Live to ride, Ride to live...

I love to ride. Saturday morning I strapped on my helmet, hopped on the back of my old man's bike (fondly known as the bitch seat) and we rode up to Angeles Crest Highway. Who knew that only 45 miles from our little abode on Hampton Avenue in WeHo is gorgeous sunny, clear, air-you-can-breathe mountainous paradise on two wheels. Here we are on the highway. Me, my camera and my gay husband.

I was born and raised here in Los Angeles, so I've been up Angeles Crest before but it's generally been in the back-back of a Buick station wagon or a school bus for some forced, "Let's play in this white stuff, it's called snow." time. Let me tell you, the back of a Buick does not give you nearly the thrill of the back of a hot motorcycle. Woo hoo!!!

We stopped at Mount Wilson to briefly observe the big antennas (he he, you said antennas). Then we went further in search of sustenance and somewhere to rest our tired butts. Let me tell you all, riding on a motorcycle is hard on the ass. At some point your ass completely gives out and you think, "my ass has fallen off the bike and onto the asphalt below and I am now riding only on my crotch." Then you get off the bike and all the blood flows back into your ass and you realize, "nope, still have my ass. Darn."

Up on the top of Angeles Crest Hwy. is a very festive roadhouse called Newcomb's Ranch. Michael and I pulled off the road and parked our bike next to all of the other bikes in the lot. Who knew there would be live music by a smelly ZZ Top looking group, a hot BBQ out back cookin' up ribs and burgers and real nice wait staff to boot. We were sold!

Newcombs seems to have just expanded and, just in case anyone's heading up there and needs a recommendation, the view was fantastic, their burgers were awesome and their bathrooms were sparkly clean!!! Something I love in my road house!

After lunch we headed out front to listen to the band and chat up some of our fellow riders who commented on Michael's new chrome air filter. Mmmm, pretty air filter... Michael beamed, as he should, because it's a really freakin' gorgeous bike and all the big tough biker dudes thought so too. I think most of the big tough biker dudes are really sweet teddy bears - and besides, we have as many tattoos as they do!

I took a lot of pictures that I wanted to put up but something is preventing it so I'm super pissed. Two of my favorites are 1) a clear shot of us on the 134 freeway in Glendale going 80 miles an hour and 2) I took some video that if you get queasy thinking about riding a bike, you shouldn't see.

Motorcycling makes me feel pretty free. It's about the only thing that does. I trust Michael's riding so I'm not anxious. I don't need to be anywhere at a specific time. I feel like no one's going to judge me on the back of a bike and if they try to, I'll cut them with my shiv. I feel like I don't have to answer to anyone and the kids in the cars next to me can smile and I'll smile back without wondering what their looking at - I know they're looking on the chick on the back of that bike.

Stitch n' Bitch and We-Hos

SnB WeHo as everyone knows, is a huge ass party every Thursday night. It wasn't always this way. We used to be a rag tag bunch of knitters and crocheters until early this year when Ellen contacted Crazy Aunt Purl who came to a meeting and brought all of her devotees. Now we have people bringing bottles of wine and festive munchies, name tags and all manner of accessories. I love it. Here is a photo from last night's event.

We even had some hip Russian grandpa and his very embarrassed 10 or 11 year old grandson come look at all of our projects after they played a couple of raucous rounds of backgammon. People are fascinated by us...

In other news, Michael and I, perennial media whores, were interviewed for an upcoming issue of Frontiers Newsmagazine today. They are doing an issue of gay entrepreneurs and we have such an interesting story, what with the marriage and the gay and the lesbian and the hey...(shout out to Professor Frink). Look for it in the coming months.

Believe me, I'll let you know when it comes out.

Today is also the 6th anniversary of Michael's lover Jeff's death. He was 28 when he died. We miss him a lot. He was a very big person - mostly, but not entirely in his personality. He loved music and Michael and his mom. He wasn't always a sweetheart but I loved him and I know he loved me.

Happy Independence Day!!! Perhaps someday soon we'll achieve it.