SIMONE Track 16

Test #1

Test #2

Test #3

Hey Kitty

Hey there pretty kitty!

I know you’ve had a rough run recently.

 

You’ve been backed into a corner,

put under a microscope,

 

and driven crazy.

Even on the best day getting out of bed was a chore.

 

It seemed as though life would devour you whole.

It was enough to make you want to run and hide, hide, hide!

Troubles all around drove you to drink

 

(but made you want to worse).

 

And although at times it may have felt like you were just being dragged along against your will,

 
Forced to deal with people who seemed nothing like you

 

And meetings where you were the odd one out

 

You held your own, of that be sure!

 

Luckily, not everyone you met on this journey was a total freak.

 

Although some may have seemed like it

 

Your family reached out to show their love

 

And you made it through! So sit back, relax, and enjoy!

 

And remember, as strange as things may get:

 

You are not alone.

RECIPE FOR ONE (1) SPICY MAMA:

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Prep time varies, depending on freshness of ingredients

Active baking time is nine (9) months per child

For best results, allow components of dish to simmer for 30 to 40 years

Ingredients

One (1) Chicana, no younger than 25 (premium results if raised in East Los Angeles and well-educated)

Add one (1) free range, farm raised Chicano activist/educator (first-class pairing if he is from San Joaquin Valley or nearby)

Trio of Children: Direct offspring, no less than three (3); Extended family offspring (number varies by region); School children, browned but not burnt

Place all components in suburban environment, throwing homemade birthday parties, allowing time for play outside, mixing and bonding children. (Warning: direct offspring may shed several layers before maturing so disregard any unusual changes in outward appearance.)

 Once you have a complex, tasty flavor profile simmering you may want to introduce foreign seasoning (from various travel adventures) – make sure to include a variety of exotic flavors, from piquant to sweet. Hint: if you want your dish more on the tangy side simply add more children.

Allow dish time to rise – a public school makes for a great proofing process, but only if the mama can be paired with other spicy dishes. The more you can mix things up, the more scrumptious and savory the final flavor will be.

To keep things appetizing, pull dish from heat after 60 or so years and allow others to enjoy the rich bouquet of your spicy mama. Enjoy!

GET INTO IT!

This is Thomas (who just turned three) playing Wii. He's the youngest in our clan (for now), and he's quite a character. I love these photos, and just had to share them with the rest of the world.

MY HALLOWEEEN

My Halloween sure has changed: from drunken nights on The Boulevard, to... well, this.

That's Thomas (the newest member of the family) in the "hunny" pot, and James, in a costume I wore 28 years ago. Things change, but stay the same, eh?

HERE'S LOOKIN' AT YOU, KID...

A big congrats (and hug) goes out to my baby sister, for reaching the 100-mark on her blog.

I've talked about her alot over the past year (Aside to Asiram: You're only a couple hundred behind, now!) because she's become an even bigger part of my life.

For a new blogger, she's taken to it pretty well/quickly, and had no trouble finding her voice as a writer. I'm very proud(s) of her. (That's an inside joke, and no, I can't and/or won't explain it. Just go check her blog out, already!)

SO PROUD, I'M BESIDE MYSELF

OK, so I've been holding off on this post, for two reasons:

1. Historical accuracy: As far as I can tell, the pictures I combined to make this new photo were taken 29 years ago, today — the day they introduced me to my new, baby sister.

2. If I think about it too much, I'll cry... and that's just not pretty.

Anyone who reads (or has read any old posts on) my blog knows my life has been in the toity for a couple years. But my baby sister (who had her b-day a week ago) is just the opposite:

*She's about to start grad school, with a grant taking care of her fees'n'stuff (and they don't give that money to just anybody, y'know)
*She's been taking care of here body for a while now, and looks fab (aside to any straight guys out there: she's got a big set of bazoombas)
*She's smart, articulate, artistic and except for her obsession with lame-@ss Disney Chnl. shows (Hah! you've been outed), she's a rockin', kick-@ss person.

I'm so proud of her, and happy to count her amongst my friends. Yes, I said friends. If I met her now, I would still seek out her company—want to spend time with her. How many family members can you say that about?

DEEP IN THE 'HUNDRED-ACRE WOODS...

Well, here it is... four months after the fact, I finally figured out where I stashed this picture. I posted an entry about this little bear's second Halloween adventure this past October, but had to settle for a photo of a drag queen to accompany the text because... well, that's a long (not-that-interesting) story, so we'll just skip over all the mind-numbing details.

I hesitated before posting this picture -- so much time elapsed between the original mood inspiring the post, and the (re)discovering of this photo's location. Posting in March seemed a little silly, to be honest. But it's such an adorable little picture, how could I not share it?

When I first got my grubby little hands on this photo, it wasn't anything more than a visual marker—a snapshot of my favorite little bruin to join the stacks of other memorable-but-not-always-meaningful moments. Don't get me wrong -- seeing him take his first steps, hearing his first words and the look on his face when he realized all those balloons, and presents and cake were for him, on his first birthday are all warm, fuzzy memories I'll treasure for the rest of my life.

But if you've spent any large chunk of time around children under the age of five, then you know... well, you know. They change (and grow) so quickly, it almost seems like they're an entirely different person from week to week. Yet somehow, the changes they go through -- right before your very eyes -- seems less like a transformation, and more like a metamorphosis.

As quickly and radically as a little kid develops into a little person (person-to-be, perhaps?), there's something comforting, and soothingly natural about the way their personality takes shape. With James, it's almost as if every little, new piece of the puzzle revealed makes sense; somehow it all just adds up... while still managing to surprise.


Back when I originally intended to post this picture, it was just a marker on my life's timeline. But now, it represents so much more: I remember, with amazing clarity, trying to imagine what my life would be like when I turned 30. I mean, it wasn't like I had it all worked out--far from, it actually. On numerous occasions over the past six or seven years, I tried to imagine how the path I was on would play out, and if I could "see myself" in that job.

Or living in the same city, dating the same guy, blah, blah, blah. I never decided that one outcome was better than another, or fooled myself into thinking there was one path I had to take to be happy. I mentally / emotionally / spiritually sorted through a number of equally different, equally enjoyable scenarios... but not a single one included bedtime stories, trips to the park, booster shots, or spending an afternoon on the couch, looking at books about animals. I never imagined so much of my life would center around the joys/challenges of early childhood--that on average, I'd spend more of my week talking to a little boy in a bear suit, than at gay bar/club/party... which sometimes also involves bears, but that's a whole 'nother mess.


Now, this photo represents the unexpected, yet wonderful, twist my life has taken. It isn't how I imagined it, but I wouldn't want it any other way.

IT'S A BOY!

I'm so thrilled to announce the arrival of my newest relative… my cousin Julie, and her husband, Doug had a beautiful baby boy this morning. (I don't have a picture yet, so I've posted these two shots of the day my mom brought my baby sister home from the hospital.)

His name is Thomas Robert Staub… Robert, for Doug's family, and Thomas, after my mom's father, who passed last year. We would have just celebrated his birthday this month, so it is nice to welcome a new soul into our life. Thomas' older brother, James is very excited about the new arrival. He's two and a half, so I'm not sure he really understands how much his little world is about to change… all the family members who've been around for Christmas have been asking him if he's happy to get a new baby brother (he says yes). This is usually around the same time they handed him his Xmas gift, so I think he may have the idea that this brother is a gift, or comes with gifts… I'm not sure. All I know is that we're all really happy.

And that's enough for me.

OPEN YOUR MOUTH, GIVE YOU A TASTE…

So I came across an interesting post on one of the blogs in my bookmarks folder… I think it is just beyond cool when other people share their musical interests—it's kinda like finding out who they date, or what they like to eat.

My older sister used to dip her crinkle-cut fries in her chocolate milkshake whenever we went to Del Taco, a kick-ass California fast food joint. (Think, Taco Bell… only it won't give you the runs.) I don’t remember the first time she did it. I don’t even recall her mentioning how much she liked it, or ever attempting to make me try it. What I do remember is how pissed-off she was whenever I asked her about it—or worse, when I made fun of her for it. She just liked what she liked, and it wasn’t any of my business.

Whether or not I agree with someone else’s taste in music is always overshadowed by what an honor it is when they decide to share this information.

All of this might sound pretty trivial, in the abstract. But make no mistake about it this sorta thing can be incredibly personal. Nobody likes it when they’re ridiculed, so putting your thoughts and opinions out in the open is an act of bravery. And now, I have a bunch of new music to check out…

So go ‘head now, ‘spress yo’self!


Previous, music-related posts:

It's An Honor, Just To Be Nominated

Put Your Thing Down, Flip It and Reverse It

Ten Tunes Rockin' My World Right Now

JUST HAPPY TO BE THERE

I'm not sure when this picture was taken—I think sometime in early 1978, I'll have to check with the parents on that.

That's my older sister (Laura) on the left, my baby sister (Marisa) in the middle, and that dork with the gap-toothed smile is me!

UH…

My older sister finally checked this site out. Her thoughts?

"There were a lot of words."

sigh

THE CULT OF BEAUTY / BOOTY

"I don't feel like I'm oppressing anybody..."

When I was first offered the job (you know the job, the one in porn), the first thing I did (well, the first thing after I changed my Pampers, which had been ruined when I laughed so hard, I peed) was take my dad out to lunch. We went to the Shakey's Buffet by my old high school, partly because it was closing that week (forced out by "redevelopment" don'tcha know?), but mostly for the Mojo potatoes.

Now, pops and I can talk about anything, and I mean, ANYTHING. Yes, I'm wired like my mom, but that's why checking in with the ol' man makes so much sense: he is a solid yin to her yang, which makes him an ideal devil's advocate in situations like this.

I told him all the details: the pros, the cons, but still playing my cards close to my chest (a total departure from my normal neurosis). I have reservations about taking the job, but I'm hoping that if I don't bring them up, and then HE does, it validates my concerns.

It's fucked up, I know, but this was new for me, in a number of ways. Usually, if I have doubts or second thoughts about something, I'm secure (or maybe just stubborn) enough to bow out, stick to the plan and feel good about it. But this time, oh, this time was different. For once, I was able to fully grasp and digest the amazing new world unfolding before me (mine for the taking, it would seem), and I want it... I mean, I REALLY want it... but, again, I have those nagging doubts-doubts now snowballing into (irrational) fear because my dad... hasn't said a word. This is a VERY unusual development. My dad always speaks his mind, no matter what the consequences. But now, he's just sitting there, munching on his pizza crust.

"So. . . uh, waddayathink?" I eek out, diving for the last of the Modjos.
"About what?" he counters, calmly stealing a thick Modjo slice off my plate.
"Uh... the job," somebody with a voice like mine says.
Silence.
"Do you think I should take the job?" I ask, my emotions (finally) boiling up to the surface.
"I think," he mutters, not even trying to hide a small sigh, "if it is work you think you can do; work you think you think you would like, for an amount of money, benefits and growth opportunities justifying the investment of your time and..."
"But what do you THINK?!" I ask, cutting him off, and now painfully aware of how transparent my doubts are. He sighs. (Again.)
"I think," he says, shifting in the booth, as he starts again, "If it's work you think you can do, that you think you'll like, for that kind of money..."
He doesn't even bother to finish.

The talk eventually turns to the impact of the adult industry (hegemony, dominant beauty standards, and the usual White Opression talk) and the kind of influence I'll have if I take this job. But for the first time in my ENTIRE life, my dad doesn't urge me to rebel-doesn't incite revolution. No, he tells me not to rock the boat, just learn all that I can, and focus on the new skill sets I can pick up, for the NEXT job.

Several months later, the topic comes up at a small family gathering. Over the course of the discussion, I admit/confess/brag I'm enforcing the dominant, fascist body cult, and contributing to low self-esteem everywhere, and (only half-joking) cap it off, saying, "I don't feel like I'm oppressing anybody!"

But as the laughter died down, a thought jumped up, into focus: All those times in the past, when it felt like there was some larger force, an unseen system 'keeping me down' maybe those pricks didn't know how much they were hurting people-hurting me... but the warm glow of enlightenment dims as I realize that at some point, they knew. It was pointed out to them, or they knew all along but didn't have to face the ugly truth at the start of their oppression, whatever. The point is, they kept going, even after they KNEW the negative impact, which means they intend to inflict harm, and didn't lose any sleep over it.

But hey, when it's work you think you can do; work that you'll like... you fight the power, buck the system and speak your mind when it will be most effective, not just when its called for.

Thanks for letting me learn this one on my own, pops.