Tap Three Times Photoblogging

Some snaps, courtesy of Shlee, from last weekend's party.

Left to right: Jenny, Tommy, Me, Eric, Shlee

Stuff I Learned Today

Despite what they say on FoodNetwork--using a ziplock bag with a piping tip is not nearly as effective as a pastry bag.

~*~

Spray paint, when used inside smells (and behaves) like poppers.

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Two new poems in a finished draft stage this week. No idea what they're doing, what they mean, how they work, but I like them.

~*~

What have you learned today?

Herm...Really? That's all?

Since there's little more boring than waiting for glue to dry, I took the Tickle, Are You Masculine or Feminine test to while away time.

You're 42% feminine
This is based on how you scored on a variety of traits that, founded on classic research and our own studies, are typically associated with women.

You're also 58% masculine, which is based on how you scored on traits that are typically associated with men. When we compare your results with other men it shows that you are somewhat more feminine than other men.

From the "report" itself...

It is not uncommon for men to have higher masculine scores than feminine and for women to have higher feminine scores than masculine, but there are also many people whose masculine and feminine qualities are roughly equal to one another. When a person's masculine and feminine qualities are balanced they either have high levels or low levels of both. Each configuration has its own strengths and weaknesses.

Your test results indicate that you're Androgynous.

There're also some bullshit charts and stereotypical crap (being a sports fan is apparently very critical to being a man...likewise being cheerful is crucial to being a woman. I fail miserably at both.)

Trapped in the (Water) Closet

So, part of yesterday's weirdness. I stop at the local big box discount shopping mart to grab some groceries and things before heading properly home yesterday. Before running around to grab 50 cent tangelos and supplies for finishing my Halloween costume, I ducked into the mens room for a "furtive grab" and tinkle. The handicapped stall was occupied as was one of the two, urinals, but...desperate times etc etc. So, overlooking my usual uneasiness about peeing next to a total stranger, I stepped up and started to go. Now...I should've been patient, talked myself down and waited. Because just as I was stepping up, it became clear to me that the guy using the urinal was leaning over it, resting his forearms against the wall and his head against his forearms. That alone should've told me to back off and just wait...bladder discomfort be damned. As I stepped up, he leaned back upright, turned toward me and started saying something about being old and having to hold onto it. I had no idea wtf he was talking about, because he very obviously hadn't been holding onto anything prior...unless, like G/C Lionel Mandrake in Dr. Strangelove he meant his precious bodily fluids. I just muttered something non-comittal, look at the tile and think of England. He proceeds to rest his forearms atop the divider and rests his chin on them and starts talking to me about his "prostrate" problems. I look over at him, black black black dyed hair and pencil thin mustache...just a hint of a perm to the hair. At that moment I want to be anywhere else. He goes on about his condition. About his swelling, but no cancer, and a rather detailed description of the procedure he had that alleviates the swelling problem...I finished up as quick as I could, washed and dried my hands and got the hell outta there.

~*~

Am finishing up my Halloween costume today (and this isn't as totally unrelated as it seems.) I'm going as Larry Craig and his bathroom stall.

Photoblogging, the Reading

Back from Bmore. Good god. What a strange day. Off to unpack and get some grub, but wanted to post these photos from Shlee.

80 Degrees and Pissy

It's just a week before Halloween and it's almost 80 degrees here in Baltimore. Crazy. I just ran to the grocery store and Lambda Rising in a light shirt, shorts and flip flops, the whole time I'm thinking when is it going to be Fall. Even at home it's been unseasonably warm for the most part.

~*~

I ended up running out for groceries earlier than I'd planned because it was impossible for me to sit on the balcony with my smokes and coffee and work on poems. Not because of the heat, but because some tool (or tools) with a bullhorn were in the park across the street having some sort of demonstration, brain-washing rally or friggin performance art experience. All I could make out was the occasional "God is Love." There are several phrases, but sadly "God is Love" is the only one I can totally make out. Apparently it's all on some sort of tape loop or something because I hear the same phrases over and over. The space between each phrase is punctuated by a blast not unlike a police siren. Given that each phrase is at best 45 seconds long, you can imagine what this is like. Earlier in the morning, about 11 or so I could hear the siren blasts while I was doing the dishes and reading. Sirens aren't uncommon here...but I wondered what the hell was happening that there were so many short ones. It is amazingly loud up here on the 7th floor. Esp. the sirens. As I was walking too and from the grocery I noticed that you couldn't hear it really at a half block away. But out on the balcony...clear as crystal...as a bell...as as as some shit that's perfectly audible and distracting and enough to piss me off. This is one of those moments where I think the First Amendment sucks.

~*~

Went book shopping at Normals Saturday afternoon, after I was in and settled and found some good stuff (sorry Shlee...they had none of the vinyl you wanted.) I got a copy of Charles Wright's Littlefoot for 10 bucks. It looks as though it's not been read at all. Also got Berrigan's Sonnets and an omnibus copy of some of Joe Orton's work. A few other things but nothing really exciting. Just replacing a couple of things. It was a tough shopping process...there was really a lot of things I wanted and I kept picking things up and winnowing down the pile. Better that tho than the alternative of desperately wanting something and finding nothing.

~*~

We went to this great Afghani restaurant just a few blocks from Brian's building for dinner. Beautiful beautiful beautiful food. The restaurant was a little cramped tho and I found myself feeling really squeezed and wanting to leave as soon as possible. Just too much crowd buzz and movement...the restaurant really isn't that large, but I counted about fifteen wait staff buzzing around and weaving in and out of the tables. The service is excellent, really...we got our food quickly, drinks refilled in a timely fashion...they were polite but not smarmy and trying to charm tips from us...just what I appreciate in table service. But...all that movement...the close proximity of other tables...it just got to me. However...I'm going to dream of that lamb soup.

Things

To the check-out lady at Wal-Mart who carded me for smokes: Thank you. You made my day.

~*~

The art opening Tuesday was pretty fantastic. It was a faculty show, so I knew most of the people showing...this of course lead to the "what do I say if I hate their stuff" quandary...but luckily it wasn't an issue. What was interesting was seeing two people work outside their usual form. An installation artist did a series of paintings that were influenced by Turkish art and Renaissance perspective techniques (with some very Cy Twombly gestural markings that I just loved.) A sort of abstracted landscape painter did charcoal sketches that owed a fair bit to photorealism but elided certain details. Lovely stuff.

~*~

In the middle of packing for a quick trip to Baltimore and the beloved. Sigh. I hate hate hate packing. I'm checking the weather here and there and trying to plan ahead. I really don't want to pack too much...but I always do. And I most likely will again.

What necessary thing do you hate, gentle reader?

Another Bad Haircut Down

According to the AP, Sam Brownback is dropping out of the race for President. Pity...there weren't enough Brownback Mountain puns. Since Tancredo and Hunter have stitched up the "I Hate Mexicans More Than You" portion of the party, Brownback's departure leaves the "I Hate the 'Mos More Than You" sector up for grabs. Who'll take it? My money's on Fred Thompson. But...I noticed something peculiar while watching the MSNBC coverage of this story this morning. A bit of cognitive dissonance that could explain why Brownback didn't do so well with the GOP (besides being Catholic.)


Am I the only one who thinks this stylized "O" looks like a rectum spewing fireworks?

Veni Vidi Vici

The reading last night went very well. I was not assaulted or nothin...tho the tubby guy in the unironic Iron Maiden tee shirt gave me a brief cause for pause. Eventually, the Famous Grouse kicked in and I could've cared less...tho I was awfully tummy-butterflyish and even had what felt suspiciously like hot flashes up to the point I took to the mic. Bizarre. I usually don't get stage fright. Jittery, yea, but not quite anything like that. I managed to get in a Larry Craig, bathroom sex joke and after that I felt like I was in control and just went with it. I did however, leave the bathhouse and sodomy sonnets home, tho I brought the drug and rough trade poems.

It was great getting to split a reading with my friend Eric, too. He offered a great short story and knocked it out of the park.

My friend Ashley snapped some pics and a vid--we'll see how these turn out, and if I'm not too mortified, I'll see if I can get them posted.

~*~

The 'hawk stayed up the whole 6 hours. I was impressed. That V-05 24 hr. stuff lives up to its name. I ended up talking to Brian when I got home and then crashed in bed straight away. When I woke this morning my hair was only minimally shmushed down from sleep. Amazing. I could have broadcaster hurricane-defying hair if I wanted it.

8 Things.

From Pamela's Blog.

1. What is your favorite guilty pleasure?
Professional Wrestling.

2. How do you take your coffee?
The same way I spent most of my twenties: blonde and lukewarm.

3. Who were you in a previous life?
O, probably no one of any particular importance.

4. Who or what is your greatest influence?
The music of David Bowie and the poetry of Jack Gilbert and James Schuyler.

5. What is the worst film you ever paid to see?
Lost Souls. I actually walked out.

6. What is the best thing you can buy for a dollar?
Lip-liner.

7. What is the worst present you ever received?
Herm...probably something from my bitch sister. I don't remember the bad ones. I just give them to Goodwill.

8. What is your favorite word(s)?
They're all dirty.

Now With Active Cultures

The long weekend away was lovely. It was nice to have the luxury of sitting with my own work, some favorite books; plus I got to share favorite poems and my own poems with friends. Some revising got done and more thoughts and notes on poems-in-progress. All in all, a valuable trip.

~*~

Signage from along the way (this makes me wish I had a digital camera...of course, I was driving solo so getting the pic would have been tricky.) This was on one of those large illuminated signs you see in car lots etc, at the Rustic Inn and Cafe near Marlinton.

*VACANCY!*
*WATCH THE GAME!*
*MATTRESS SALE!*

~*~

Saturday we went to the WV Book Festival in Charleston. Our friend and former teacher Irene was reading and acting as part of a panel for the festival. She was fabu. She owned it. She has this habit of offering a seemingly tangential/effacing introduction to the poems that end up just being a gut-punch. The poem hits hard, her comment hits hard--it's really something. I've seen her in action numerous times over the years and I still have yet to figure out how she does it. She owned the room, hands down.

We ended up being locked in the conference room for about 10 minutes after the panel because the Secret Service was moving Bill and/or Hillary Clinton through to some Democratic hooh-hah being held on-site.

~*~

Another art opening tomorrow. I'm hope-hope-hope-hoping beyond hope that this one is better than last months. Later tomorrow night, I'm reading with Eric. I've got my set list, I'm ready to go...I'm only wondering just how much product it's gonna take to hold my mohawk for 6 hours.

When Were You Ever In That Mens' Room?

During my round of daily blog hopping, I noticed a new Camille Paglia post at Salon.com. Usually, I only read her to see how many paragraphs I can get into it before I'm shouting "horse shit." Today's post is her regularly scheduled "Camille Deigns to Answer Your Letters and Prove She's Smarter Than You" column (unless of course the letter is fawning, then she congratulates them on their good taste.)

So I found this:

Yes, some women do seek sexual relief and excitement in the public bathrooms. During my four years in the Marine Corps, it was well understood that women Marines, bi and lesbian, sought out sexual encounters in the bathrooms on Marine Corps bases and military airports. Especially airports because of the enticement of different women coming through and it being a one-time event. Meanwhile, the gay male marines kept their sexuality pretty concealed and secret. It goes without saying the Marines have a long tradition of a gay-bisexual subculture that involves many career Marines.

Kasmir J. Zaratkiewicz
Richmond, Calif.

I appreciate this diverting glimpse of subterranean military life!

Naturally, I accept your testimony about uniformed gals gone wild in the loo. But it seems as if such behavior is a temporary, makeshift measure, predicated on soldiers' distance from their own homes. It doesn't totally parallel the lifelong cruising style of so many gay men who haunt public toilets as an active erotic choice or preference.

With its acrid hormonal smells, brisk traffic and mundane ritual of furtive self-touch, the men's john stimulates gay lust -- while the ladies' room is just another place to jabber and powder your nose!

Now--I'm not going to paint with a broad brush here...but what frigging "acrid hormonal smells" does she believe we encounter in restrooms? Does she think they pipe in the smell of poppers? (Granted some places do--and for that I have been grateful.) And the histrionic "furtive self-touch"?? It's a mens' room--you unzip your pants, you release your cock, you piss. There's nothing furtive about it. Jesus. And if anyone (not on drugs) can imagine Paglia "jabbering" with one of the girls and "powdering" her nose I'd like to live in their heads for a bit.

This is probably the second single most wrong-headed thing I've ever read by her (which is saying something.) The first? Her use of the phrase "arc of urinary transcendence."

A Weekend in the Country

I'm going away tomorrow for a long weekend in the country....granted, most of my weekends are in the country...but this weekend some folks and I are going a couple of hours away to relax, workshop, write and just eat and drink ourselves stupid. I'm packed and ready. And it's supposed to (finally) be fall-like this weekend. I can't wait.

From the James "Beard" Files

This recipe from Congress Cooks! is not something I would ever prepare...but given the congressional c(r)ook and his choice of ingredients, it's just too good not to pass on....dare I say, toe tappin' good?

The Honorable Larry E. Craig

United States Senator, Idaho

Specialty Recipe

Super Tuber

Super Tuber is a great snack that uses one of my favorite vegetables: The Idaho Potato. Of course, I suppose any type of potato could be used, but I cannot guarantee that a Super Tuber made with anything but a true Idaho potato would taste as good. Sincerely, Larry E. Craig, United States Senator

Ingredients

1 hot dog, cook's choice

1 Idaho baking potato, 7 to 10 ounces

Mustard for dipping, any style

Other condiments as desired such as cheese sauce, sour cream, chili, chives, bacon pieces or black olives.

Wash and dry potato. Rub with shortening or butter. With an apple corer or small knife, core out the potato center (end to end). Push hot dog through the center. Bake until potato is cooked through.

To Microwave: Place on microwave safe plate; cover loosely (to avoid splatters). Microwave on high about 4 minutes per potato until fork tender.

To Bake in Conventional Oven: Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Bake for approximately one hour or until potato is fork tender.

To Barbecue: Wrap in aluminum foil and place above medium hot coals, turning at least once during cooking. Cook until potato is fork tender.

Serving Suggestions: Allow potato to cool slightly. Eat as a finger food, dipping in your favorite hot dog condiments (mustard is my favorite).

Suzanne Craig

Because It's Sunday

It's hard to know where to even start with this...because it's abusrd (which is why I love it)...eh...I'll just cut and paste the relevant info here...thanks AP for doin the heavy lifting.

Scandal Brewing at Oral Roberts U

TULSA, Okla. (AP) — Twenty years ago, televangelist Oral Roberts said he
was reading a spy novel when God appeared to him and told him to raise $8
million for Roberts' university, or else he would be "called home."

Now, his son, Oral Roberts University President Richard Roberts, says God is speaking again, telling him to deny lurid allegations in a lawsuit that threatens to
engulf this 44-year-old Bible Belt college in scandal.

Richard Roberts is accused of illegal involvement in a local political campaign and lavish spending at donors' expense, including numerous home remodeling projects, use of the university jet for his daughter's senior trip to the Bahamas, and a red Mercedes convertible and a Lexus SUV for his wife, Lindsay.

She is accused of dropping tens of thousands of dollars on clothes,
awarding nonacademic scholarships to friends of her children and sending scores
of text messages on university-issued cell phones to people described in the
lawsuit as "underage males."

[snip...just like the covenant of Abraham]

Among the charges of impropriety and misconduct are these doozies

_ A longtime maintenance employee was fired so that an underage male friend
of Mrs. Roberts could have his position.

_ Mrs. Roberts — who is a member of the board of regents and is
referred to as ORU's "first lady" on the university's Web site — frequently had
cell-phone bills of more than $800 per month, with hundreds of text messages
sent between 1 a.m. to 3 a.m. to "underage males who had been provided phones at
university expense."

_ Mrs. Roberts spent more than $39,000 at one Chico's clothing store
alone in less than a year, and had other accounts in Texas and California. She
also repeatedly said, "As long as I wear it once on TV, we can charge it off."
The document cites inconsistencies in clothing purchases and actual usage on
TV.

_ University and ministry employees are regularly summoned to the
Roberts' home to do the daughters' homework.

_ The university and ministry maintain a stable of horses for exclusive
use by the Roberts' children.

_ The Roberts' home has been remodeled 11 times in the past 14
years.

Things

Today's horrorscope...

Gathering your wits could be a full time occupation, but since you haven't got all day to pull things together, the least you can do is fake it. To start with try pretending you're not such an ass.

~*~

Off to have dinner and bowl with my friend Michael tonight. En route I'm going to grab the new Annie Lennox CD.

~*~

I need new things to amuse myself with, new poetry, new music, new movies. Suggestions?

$1500, Not For Sale

After the miserable gallery experience of a few weeks ago, the kids (Tommy, Ashley, Eric) and I sat at dinner and decided that we would get together and make our own assemblage art pieces. Ashley hosted and that weekend we got to it. There is, sadly, a lack of pubic hair on these pieces which I fear will limit their retail worth. I believe each piece is valued at $1500.00 American, but because they are now part of private collections, they're no longer available. We're also lacking individual artist statements regarding their works. Larger images available here.

"Untitled," Mixed Media Assemblage, by A. Lawson
part of the Schoffler Permanent Collection


"Do Not Kill the Animal," Mixed Media, Poster Paint, Mod Podge, by E. Waggoner
part of the Gibson Permanent Collection


inset of "Do Not Kill the Animal"


"Out Door and Camp Life for Women," Mixed Media, Acrycilic Paint, by R. Gibson
part of the Lawson Permanent Collection

Last of the (faux) Pioneer Lesbians

Ach. I struck a blow today for freedom from agricultural tyranny! All of the tomato plants and their last unripened, rotting, blighted fruits are now festering on the compost heap. Huzzah. It's hard to describe the mild pleasure I felt as I yanked each plant and tossed it in the wheelbarrow.

All that's left now is to harvest the peppers to dry and turn into braids and wreaths (that is so totally not my idea, but that's what I'm doing.)

A few weeks ago I took god knows how many pounds of peppers and made jelly and pickles..pretty tasty...but not something I'm going to do again. (When handling peppers...make sure to wash your hands before you go to take a leak...that's all, I'm sayin.) I also ended up making and canning 20 quarts of vegetable broth. That's really what sent me over the edge about never canning again. My ambition and newly found tendency toward thrift got the best of me. The broth's delicious...it's perfect for soup and stews...but never again in such quantities.

~*~

Went last Thursday to a United Methodist Rummage Sale with Ashley, Eric and Tommy...and had a great time. However...when dealing with acronyms for organizations, one should think about adolescent thirtysomethings who giggle when they see signage reading: Make checks payable to BUM Women. This was a serious rummage sale...at least 3,000 square feet of stuff. I scored a copy of the New York Times Cookbook for a buck, a verrrry 70s french press (also a buck) and some vintage/retro fabric remnants for this lap quilt I want to make this winter.