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Well folks, clearly you have time on your hands. Enough time to read the folly happenings of my life and then still, even more time to nominate this little blog for a Lezzy Award over at The Lesbian Lifestyle. So, first off, THANK YOU. Very, really, truly, thank you, thank you. Getting nominated for a Lezzy Award was quite flattering. Finding out that I am a finalist for the “humor” and “personal” categories has me jumping up and down.
I’ll attempt to keep this one short(er than usual), just in case y’all have work to do, it is Monday after all. The point to this entire post is to thank you for taking the time to stop by here, and also for taking the time to nominate this little blog and… oh shoot… hmm, there was one more thing… now, what was it?
Oh, right! VOTE!
Once again, the rules are as follows:
1. You can vote every day! Clearly y’all are fierce voting machines, so, keep it up!
2. I must continue to remain an active lesbian for the duration of the competition. With Violet out of town having lesbian sex is out. So, I will have to improvise my lesbianism. How about this: I promise to watch one episode of the L Word for every five Golden Girls (ugh.) I will also make plans to hang out with other lesbians in lesbian establishments and talk about lesbian stuff (i.e. Old Navy sales, Rachel Maddow, the newest Sugarbutch post, Lilith Fair, etc.) I will also put an Indigo Girls album and an Ani Difranco album on my ipod to offset the abundance of Cher. (If I come up with other ways to be lesbian-like, I will let you know. Feel free to offer suggestions.)
3. Voting closes on March 1st. So, until then, vote!
So! Once again, ladies and gentlemen, and every beautiful representation, possibility, perversion, invention, diversion, rebellion, infusion, expression, combination there of, if you would please, click the pink box to make it happen! (yes indeed, that’s what she said.)
I just got a comment from Lesbian Life Style on my last post informing me that I have been nominated for a Lezzy Award. I am still trying to figure out what this means exactly but in all of the mean time I have been asked to grab this graphic and link it to the award nominations and quite obviously, ask you, my fine flanneled friends, to also nominate me (top 3 blogs with the most nominations in a particular category by the 22nd go to “the final round.” Again, not totally sure what that means…)
I was told that I have been nominated under “humor” and “personal” and am assuming that is because there is no category for “unemployed faggot dyke who has a fish and raccoon as closest friends, with an entire blog about Cher, her dog and her girlfriend, that posts photos of animals balancing random items on their head and chooses to watch Golden Girls reruns on Friday nights while simultaneously tweeting everything Blanche says rather than hanging out with real-life people award.” I’m not saying that shouldn’t be considered as a category in the future but honestly 1. Hi. You lose. I win. and 2. How very, very sad.
So, if you feel so inclined to nominate (vote for) this blog, well, shucks and thank you in advance! (fyi: Thanking someone in advance is a popular sales technique that makes the “customer” feel like they are special and like they have already done something nice, causing them to feel a temporary obligation to do so… do not be fooled by this.)
The rules for this award are that I must remain a lesbian for the duration of this contest and that you can nominate (vote) once every 24 hours. So, if I don’t make you laugh or tell you anything personal or if you suspect that I might be straight- do not vote for me! But, in the spirit of competition, I promise to make out with Violet every day for the duration of the voting period, and, like always, I will continue to share with you the personal, self-deprecating moments that come my way.
Click the pink box to make me rich and famous (that’s what she said):
Oh Rose Nylund, as you well know, you and your other three roommates rock my 20% off-lesbian-chic-wool-hiking socks. And now you’ve won a Lifetime Achievement Award and I couldn’t be more proud. (If only Cher had presented it to you!) You are always oh so funny, original, beautiful, and on your game. Quite simply, you are fabulous.
Rock on, Golden Girl, and congratulations.
As of late, nothing seems more terrible and pressing as the devastation in Haiti. Nothing. (You’ve donated right?) But when a reader sent me an email with an article informing me that my dearest, sweetest, golden girl, Blanche Devereaux (Rue McClanahan), had had a stroke my heart dropped.
It is totally impossible to claim one of the girls as my favorite but I will say, Blanche has my favorite lines and gets the biggest laughs from me. And like Cher and a few other notably fabulous women, Rue’s character Blanche has always had a huge fag following. She once asked a gay man why this is and he responded, “Isn’t it obvious? We want to be you.”
So, while we wait for her full recovery, here are a few of my favorite Blanche facts along with some of my favorite one-liners:
“Like the blossom of the ginsum weed, I entice with my fragrance but can provide no succor”
Rue’s characters full name on the Golden Girls was Blanche Elizabeth Devereaux, making her initials B.E.D.
“Don’t you ever get a nose bleed from takin’ the high road all of the time?”
Rue was originally asked to play the role of Rose and Betty White was asked to play Blanche. As soon as Rue went in for her audition the writers asked if she would play the role of Blanche. Obviously, she said yes.
“I haven’t had to disappoint so many men since daddy tore down the tree house.”
And now, for your viewing pleasure, a clip of a Golden Girls episode that makes me laugh so hard I cry. every. single. time. This clip is where Blanche and Dorothy agree to go live on a show as “women who live together” as a favor to Rose. Only Rose got the concept wrong. The show was actually about “women who sleep together.” Enjoy:
Dear Rue, you and the other 3 girls have gotten me through more than you could know. So, thank you, you know, for being a friend (I had to say it!). I wish you a speedy recovery and all the best.
I was chatting with greg yesterday, and like we do, we went from a to z in all matters that matter to us. One of these matters was my totally disparaging outlook on ever getting a job that I will actually want and that will actually pay me what I think I am worth. Confucius says, “Choose a job that you love and you will never have to work a day in your life.” This is my goal, always has been. It sounds great, easy even.
Well folks, don’t be fooled. This whole economic crisis and high unemployment rate thing is no exaggeration. They are not kidding! I keep finding jobs that look (slightly) interesting, scroll through the requirements, realize that I am indeed qualified, get to the bottom of the page and they then offer some totally unlivable wage… “depending on experience.” Really?!? With some of these rates I could get paid more raking leaves! The 9 year old down the street made more this fall raking leaves! I am not trying to sound pretentious about money, I am quite the opposite really, but I deserve to make enough to make ends meet, right? And with the wages being offered my ends would never see each other, let alone meet.
So, greg and I were chatting about what I should do with my life. We started high on the Forbes top paying jobs list and worked our way down. First on the list: Brain surgeon. I will now quote our chat exactly:
me: Should I just be a brain surgeon?
greg: I hear there’s good money there.
me: I could work 2 hours a week and make more than I use to I bet
greg: Yes, yes.
me: But I would have to work with brains and that is kind of gross.
me: Yes, and squishy. Yuck. Ok, no on that one.
Greg’s next idea: Feet.
greg: How are you with feet?
me: How do you mean?
greg: Can you work with feet somehow??
me: I mean, feet have a high potential for gross too.
greg: But not of the squishy variety.
me: No, but I fear some could actually be more yucky than a squishy brain.
greg: So, no smelly things…
me: Oooh. ok, to answer your question, no feet! No smelly stuff.
greg: No squishy, no smelly… ok.
And then, well, fill in your own blanks on this one:
me: Well, not all squishy is bad.
greg: Right. how are you with silicone?… or is it saline now?
So, then I admitted that I’m not so into the sciency stuff, which sort of rules out almost everything that we were talking about and anything that is going to make me any money. So, big money is out. Squishy grossness is out. And feet are out.
Next, she asked me, “Well, what is it that you just want to do?”
That was easy to answer.
me: I just want to write a weekly column for some newspaper or magazine about something gay or snarky or political and get paid really well… like Carry Bradshaw
greg: Gay And The City
me: I want to be the dyke-Carry-Bradshaw. YES!
greg: Or Fabulously Gay And The City
me: Will you be one of the girls I have martinis with regularly? I will need two others.
greg: I would. I need to solidify my role though…
me: Fabulously Gay And The City! You got it! Perfect.
greg: Am I stylish?
me: Yes. You can be the stylish one.
greg: Can I be the stylish eccentric one? Or goofy?
me: Yes. Perfect. Well, you can’t be both eccentric and goofy.
me: That is like trying to be Blanche and Rose…
greg: That’s what I always had trouble with.
me: Would never work…
greg: I’ll work on it… nail it down.
me: Well, now that my life’s career is solved. Whew.
me: Feels good.
greg: These chats work.
me: Dont they though.
So! There you have it. All problems solved and on to the details of the matter. And once I get contracted for a fabulously popular column and this weekly article is so totally famous that they want to make a show about me, starring me, it is going to be called Fabulously Gay And The City. As you just read, greg will be one of my three good girlfriends that I will frequently go out with, all dolled up and ready to drink over-priced foofy martinis in untouchable, hip bars, restaurants and clubs in and around New York City (I am willing to relocate for this.) I will hold a casting call for the other two, just as soon as I get this contract!
Having this all figured out is a huge relief, let me tell you. The only hole to fill is the actual contract deal for the writing gig. But that is no biggie, right? All I need now is for some highly connected person to run into this post, contact me and offer me a job with some newspaper, magazine, online zine, or some sort of popular public media source that could use an edgy, witty, informed, original, versatile columnist for a weekly write up… that pays a livable wage. I could totally learn how to be all of those things. This just doesn’t seem so impossible, does it?
Well, I will keep you posted on the prospects and other random happenings in all of the mean time, of course, like I do.
Every once in a while the ridiculous, unforgiving, moronic attempts at legalizing discrimination and hate get to me. But for some reason, this last deal in New Jersey just felt like, “Eh, 20 dummies to 14 reasonable humans. At least the gap is narrowing.”
And really, at this point, the resistance against giving us queers an equal shot at life through the eyes of the law is like a bunch of beefy dudes standing on the side of a mountain, all sorts of pumped up and ready to try and stop an avalanche. Go for it I say, but don’t look too surprised when an unexpected sudden rush of equality snowballs your self righteous ass. Because as dumb and as mean as too many people are, history shows over and over again, that regardless of the resistance, at some point a collective conscious gets its shit together just enough and real progress towards not being so dumb and mean wins out… eventually. Yes, most of the time it is two steps forward and one to three steps back (hi, California, you are still the king of SuckItVille), but there is progress regardless.
So, yes, there are still a bunch of homo-hating-meanies out there, and poo on all of them. No, seriously, may a very large gastrointestinally-challenged bird poop on each and every one of your bigoted heads on your very best hair day right before some very important event. But like my godmother, Ruth, would advise, I need to hold tighter to the positive, which is that there are also a ton of wonderful, smart, kind, caring, informed, reasonable folks out there, and I know this for a fact. Four of my favorites being, you know, Dorothy, Blanche, Rose and Sophia. And really, thank gawd for the Golden Girls of the world! And to all of you who get it, thank you very much for not sucking and may bird poop never touch your fabulous, equality-loving heads.
(This clip is only a minute and 21 seconds, even you attention span deprived folks can handle that. Just watch it!)