Saturday, August 30
Hurray for Happy Endings
once in awhile in this world there really is a happy ending
most of you have read about the darling little rescue kitty
that has been occupying La Cubana and my
heart for a little over a week now
(scroll down to see the adorable picture)
well we found Ashley (name soon to be changed by new mommy)
a wonderful home
Rebecca found me through my "cool dude" neighbor Mike
"Thanks Mike..we owe you a sixpack..!"
she's a sweet young woman who wanted a little kitty
to live with and to love
and to flat out adore
Rebecca had no other pets
and no intentions of getting any
she was fully prepared to pamper and adore
a new addition to her life
and Ashley (Rebecca is thinking about naming her Lucy instead)
the permanently tiny eeny weeny darling
La C and I took Ashley in for a full health over-haul
she got her shots
her poo poo tested
her ears tested- turns out she did have ear mites-
a full bath- all that contruction dust, she was practically a snow ball..
and then got her woo woo removed (fancy talk for she got fixed)
575 bucks later
damn did that hurt "pinncch OUCH"
she was ready for her new home
Rebecca picked her up today
and has already called to say
that the little darling is doing fine
checking it all out
even sat on her lap
not bad a day after surgery!
best of all
she's invited La C and I to visit
Ashley ..Lucy..Sheba...whatever her name shall be
We have been annointed her godmothers...
Honey this is great news
because La C the little toughie
has been crying that she never got to say a proper goodbye to our little black
and i thought i was having separation anxiety
this cat is special
i mean i have taken in rescue kittys before
and found them homes
but none of them
touched my heart
like this little lady
a true princessa
mazel tov Rebecca!
La C and I wish you and your new darling
oh on a not so happy note
i just want to send some kind thoughts
to Michele of smallvictory on my linkie love list
who is going to ground zero for the first time today
good luck Michele
i'm sure it won't be easy
but it is one step further
to moving on
Thursday, August 28
Conspiracy in the Air
I didn't pick up the paper yesterday, largely because sometimes I just need a break from horrifying things
but i was told by a pal of mine
that the big story was all about Hillary Clinton's major investigation into 911
and that the really big story was that there were poisons in the air that the city/government lied to us all about..
if any of you reading this, have a copy of the article maybe you could send me some of the particulars in the comments section
but this does spark off all kinds of conspiracy theories
let me tell you my own story
and let you decide what you think
is true or not true
on september 10th of 2001
i was somebody who had mild allergies
i blew my nose a few times a day and maybe once or twice a week
i would take a mild allergy pill
by October 1st of 2001
i become someone who had to take the prescription allergy medicine every day
and would still have severe attacks on an almost daily basis
my allergies became so severe that as you may recall
6 months ago i embarked on a total homeopathic
cleanse and hopefully cure
the first thing my doctor did was test my blood
he informed me that i had the same level of carbon dioxide in my blood
as someone who smokes a pack a day
i do not smoke
and have not for hmm 15 years
granted much of this could have been caused by just being new yorker
in a high stress life
okay now let me back up
in the week that i was at ground zero from september 16th on
i only wore my mask when i went to the hole- the actual spot of the collapsed towers
when i was a block away in front of the St Paul Church i did not wear my mask
partially that was because it was hard to talk or breathe in such heat from behind the mask
and mostly it was because i wanted the heartsick heroes of that terrible time
to look into my face when i served them their meals and to know that i cared about them
which i did and still do
nobody told me to put on my mask
and frankly a block away the air felt clear
and it just didnt feel so important
of course about a hundred feet away the air was so thick with dust
that it felt something like a cross between a snow storm and windy day in the dessert
but from my perch at the st. paul
well i just rarely wore my mask
i know now
that much of my respiratory problems are most likely because of this
but to tell you the truth if i had to do it all over again
im not sure i would wear the mask
making eye contact
you're a hero
making them smile
i dont think i could trade that in
back to conspiracy theory stuff
many months later
towards the latter part of the clean up of ground zero
i spent a little time
volunteering at a warehouse
that outfited the tours of firemen
when the new men would come in
we would give them carhard jackets with their names on them
oh you name it
when the old crews came out
they could keep their carhard jackets but their boots
caked with the mud of ground zero
had to be bagged in plastic bags marked hazardus waste
and we had to NOT touch those boots with our hands
they were placed in special hazard bins and shipped out
while i was helping in this procedure it occurred to me
that the mud that the higher ups had decided was sush a hazard
it could not be touched by the human hand
was the same mud
i had plowed around in
in my street shoes
nobody told me not to touch my shoes afterwards
actually i still have them
in my closet
i dont think its a coincidence
that ive been so sick since that week
at ground zero
and i do believe that what hillary clinton
is digging up is true
and is probably just a small part of a large truth
thats gonna kick the ass of watergate when it comes out
as to the conspiracy
i just think
we the public
werent told the real deal
and i do think
the higher ups
knew a whole lotta stuff
that they werent telling us
maybe we were better off
as panic might have ensued
but i do
know that whatever was on the boots of those firemen
was in the air
and on my clothes
and probably is still sitting in my closet
so keep digging hillary
and keep us posted
i want some answers
even if they won't change a damn thing
as for me
if i had to do it all over again
the only thing different i would have done
would be to get down there and start helping
on september 11th
not september 16th
what i know now
is that on that day of 911
when the world felt like it was breaking apart
i could have done more to help in one hour than i have done in the two years since
but then again
like so many of you
i was too busy wondering
if I or someone I love
was gonna be next
maybe if i had run down there that terrible morning
i wouldn't be here writing this today
Wednesday, August 27
Baby Needs a Home
okay so here's the heartbreaking tale in my life
you may recall that my apartment and la cubana's apartment
are both under renovation
my building is next door to another apartment building that is also being renovated
well about a week ago
this fairly scuzzy character, (think not so former heroin addict, illegal alien who rarely wears a shirt and works for about 30 bucks a day doing demolition work)
drops off his cat in our basement.
He took the cat in when she was a few weeks old and said he'd had her for 5 years. SHe had never seen the outside of his apartment and never met another animal. She..Ashley is either a midget or had her growth stunted because it was hard to believe she was 5. She weighs about 4 pounds and looks like a 4 month old kitten. She is all black except for some white under her chin.She is part Siamese and looks it! Her long face and green eyes make her look like an Egyptian icon, like her tiny little self should be sititng on top of a pyramid.
Well this scumbug finds out his landlord wants the cat out. So he takes her on the subway during rush hour...this terrified her as you can imagine and then drops her off in our flooded out, wildew infested, buggy, damp, disgusting basement and never NEVER checked up on her again.
He had heard that La C and I were famous cat suckers I guess, but still the prick never came back!
Anyway, she hovered in the corner of the basement, terrified, sad, overwhelmed. I tried to take her into my apartment but she took one look at my two huge 30 pound cats and was so frightened, I thought she might die of a heart attack.
We took her back to the basement while the most toxic of fumes was happening in La C's apartment and now,for the last few days, she has been in La C's apartment. THere is a full work crew there, sanding, hammering, sawing, banging. THere is mass amounts of dust and wet paint and terrible other things and Ashley is becoming well lets just say more than fed up.
I think she's taking it fairly well considering she's been through the worst week of her life. She will still let me pet her, still eat, still clean herself, but she's scared to death and everytime you pick her up, she thinks something else terrible is going to happen to her.
I've tried to function since Ashley came into our lives but to tell you the truth,she's all I think about; so tiny, so innocent, so scared and so tough.
Last night I visited her, as I do every day, several times a day if possible and found her covered in dust. She looked like a little black kitten rolled in powdered sugar.
She looked at me, permitted me to pet her head for exactly 3 minutes then walked a few steps away from me, plopped herself on the floor and began to clean her entire body.
I've been calling up everyone I know to find her a home and I have two great possibilities both want her to get a full check out and all shots etc. before they take her.
La C and I are going to pay for her vet bills and when she's fit and fattened up a bit, we will pay to have her fixed too.
Until I find this baby a home, I will feel somewhat homeless myself.
So if you're in the NYC area and you don't have other pets or you do have other pets but you have the time, patience and no-how to slowly introduce little Ashley to them over a couple weeks, come by the East Village and meet her.
She's regal, I'm sure she was a princess in her past life, she's vulnerable but trying to cover it up with attitude and she's permanently tiny.
If you ever wanted a kitten that would never get any bigger, Ashley is your girl.
wish me luck
I'm falling a little deeper in love
everyday we keep her...
Monday, August 25
crossing the line
It's always been a strange experience for me meeting people in person
who I know from the internet..
I guess it's because I ...like perhaps many of you...
find that my webworld persona is a tad more free
a tad more ballsy (or well in a female way you know vagi-ballsy)
then I am in real life
oh don't get me wrong darlins
i'm a bitch out of hell in real life too
but i've been kicked in the tuchas
in this life and this city
far too many times to count
or bother mentioning
and its made me hmm
on the web
i know that even if i offend
or thrill and amaze you
you will not (hopefully)
be waiting around the next corner
with a plastic blow up doll and a wallet full of photos of me
except of course for my significant other
but she's allowed
my point is that
im sure all of us
at least most of us
live lives slightly or perhaps more than slightly
different from the ones we walk in
in our daily world
maybe we are taller
maybe we are louder
maybe we are sexier
mayber we are none of these things
but just a little more honest than normal
or just a little less?
i guess i'm just myself
completely and absolutely me
but i am myself un-plugged
me without the safety nets
me without the guarded pauses
the questioning glances
the who the hell are you to ask that stance
me as i would have been
if i hadn't been messed with far too many times
me as i would probably be
with a lot of therapy
yesterday i did something that i have only done
3 other times
i met someone live and in person
from the blogger universe
i met dave tepper
reach over loves and click on Interrobang
but wait till im done ranting
cause im on a roll
i realized that i was nervous meeting dave
because he is a part of my alter-ego universe
someone who knows the un-plugged Rossi
but not the guarded don't fuck with me Rossi
and he is crossing worlds
make me feel a tad
there was also the other nagging little ditty
i always feel when meeting net folks
something in the back of my head
"what if they're a serial killer?"
so I brought la cubana
who isn't afraid of anyone
from Godzilla to
we met at my fave itty bitty
cuban coffee joint
which i've written about
for its velvet lush cafe con leche
that my &^%$#* doctor still won't let me have
Dave recognized me right away
by my wacky head of unruly blonde mish mash hair
he was with his sister who he refers to on his site as
Bitchy but who was a sweet as southern apple pie
they were both dolls
with a nice southern edge in their voices but not much
i felt comfortable
and i realized that dave
was a kind, vulnerable, well intentioned guy
probably felt just a tad free-er in his web life
than in his walking around life
but un-like me
was brave enough to reach out and meet
i'll have a face now to go with his site
a face that i might add to any interrobang readers
has the most adorable baby boy features
and lovely eyes
hey i can compliment him
if i want to
im a dyke
this gives me freedom to compliment men
it was great
and he unlike most mortals
was actually able to have
TWO cafecito cafe con leches
this woulda sent me to the emergency ward
with heart palpitations
so whats the moral of the story?
ask damn it
the moral is just this
behind these words
that you read on our sites
a tad more vulnerable
than the presence seeping through our keyboards
all the more interesting
and all the more wondrous
for reaching out
ok in english
read our shit
cause we have balls when we write it
go read dave
in Interrobang land
he's a gas
and damn that boy can hold his coffee!
Friday, August 22
i forgot to tell you
there's a new memoirable up
i know but hey
i was outa town
im a girl
this fun little dandy
is called "The Guilt Wheel"
and im sure all my jewish
and catholic readers will relate to it
check it our my lovies
just click on memoirable
if you don't
i'll be so sad
and probably get sick
and eventually die
dont worry about it
Thursday, August 21
Hamas and the 72 nail bombs
So Israeli retaliated as they always do, by targeting the murderers
And not just the murderers but the leaders of the murderers, so let’s just call them the major murderers
Israel did not, unlike the Palestinian terrorists.. target innocent lives.. bus loads of families with children.
In Gaza City
An Israeli helicopter fired five missiles at the car of a senior Hamas official, killing him and two bodyguards, the Islamic militant group said.
Hamas said it no longer felt bound by a three-month unilateral cease-fire it declared June 29 and threatened retaliation. Two days earlier, Hamas had carried out a suicide bombing in Jerusalem, killing 20 people, but insisted at the time it was still observing the truce.
''We consider ourselves free from this cease-fire,'' said a Hamas official, Ibrahim Hanieh.
The Hamas official killed in the missile strike was identified as Ismail Abu Shanab.
Okay so am I missing something here?
Hamas is NOW not going to abide by the cease-fire?!?!
But the murder of 18 innocent lives and the maiming of 100 more..including children…that was abiding by the cease fire?!
Oh I love that..
How often has this happened now..
Ok we’re gonna send in some suicide bombers, blow up families at prayer, families at a Passover cedar…folks coming back from work..
But that’s called you know…BEHAVING
BUT NOW, NOW THAT YOU..YOU BIG BAD ISRAELIS HAVE ASSASSINATED ONE OF OUR LEADERS…NOW WE’RE GONNA DO SOME DAMAGE…
Hello ….um I think blowing up a bus was you know…a break in the cease fire….
Dozens of Hamas supporters at the scene dunked their fists in blood and soot, raised them in the air and threatened revenge, chanting ''God is great.''
Ok again…I must be missing something here… because dipping my fist into the blood of a murderer and raising my fist in the air and demanding revenge for an act that was a retaliation on my people murdering a bus load of families returning from prayer…does not sound like a way to praise the lord…
Hamas…Arafat…Islamic militants all over the world…yes I’m talking to you motherfuckers….
Do you really think god is great?
Do you really think Allah loved you?
Well then stop dishonoring him(her) name
By killing innocents…
Stop spitting on Allah by cowardly suiciding yourself and letting your body shoot nails and explosives into the bodies of children and babies..
This is not Allah
This is not God
This is not holy
This is a crock of shit
And I guarantee you…wherever it is you are going, you will not be greeted by 72 virgins….unless all those virgins are loaded with nail bombs..
Tuesday, August 19
Give me a gun NOW
Well it’s certainly been a lovely day for
Murderers now hasn’t it?
To tell you the truth I haven’t posted since my black-out rant because the whole loud explosion followed by a black-out for 29 hours put me into a strange place.
A very strange place..
I guess ‘911” was a lot more in my bones than I realized.
Then …today I made the mistake of tuning into the outside world.
Well you probably know what I saw….
First there was the bombing of the U.N. in Baghdad.
I had to take a walk after that.
When I returned I got an instant message from Shel in LA…
“Did you hear about Jerusalem?” she asked.
“Oh god…what now?” I thought.
“Terrible bombing a lot of people killed.”
“Here we go again.”
This bombing however was shades of the Passover Massacre.
A bus load of innocents returning from prayer…families, children…religious folks…
A suicide bomber blows himself up, in this bus packed with worshippers, returning from the holiest of the sites…the wailing wall…
Thus far at least 18 people are dead, five of them children..
And more than 100 injured, 40 of them children.
Oh such a nice way to support the peace process isn’t’ it?
This is, I’m guessing the worst assault since the hard core peace plan began, and it will, I’m guessing shatter things to hell at least temporarily.
Israel has NATCH, frozen the good deeds and handovers of land they were in the midst of. Woulda been nice if the terrorist pricks had just stayed home and let Israel hand over the two towns.
Now of course, in defense, Israel will protect itself however it can
And be denounced by terrorists and Palestinians and anti-Semites for doing so.
So here’s what I’d like to know…
How can a group that claims to care so much for Allah and holy missions
And holy wars
And holy moly
Blow up worshippers coming from prayer
And how can these motherfuckers
Say they want peace
When this is how they reward it..
Give me a gun baby
I’m headed to the west bank
I’ve had it
I’m gonna blow up
Do you hear me
Saturday, August 16
Black Out 2003 NYC
28 hours and Forty Minutes
In the Lower-East-Side-Manhattan
Black-Out of 2003
I spend the day trying to push some of the things in my apartment into some kind of order. All of my possessions are either in a box, in storage or piled into corners to make way for the renovation of my apartment which is pretty much at its three quarters way mark.
While I love the way the bathroom and kitchen were shaping up, I didn’t love the allergy attacks I’d been having since I set foot in the door. Evidently the thing I am most allergic to is construction dust.
I’d been popping pills since I moved back in, but who’s complaining?
The workmen covered the 5 flights of stairs in my building with paper and taped them down to keep any damage from happening to our carpeting. This was very professional of them, but unfortunately by Thursday, some of the heavy-footed tenants in my building had already made a mish mash of a lot of the paper.
By 4:00, after a marathon day of running errands and de-dusting my home, I feel like my skin is boiling… I’m sure it was in the 90’s.
I make my way up the paper stairs and throw myself into a cool shower, then I turn the AC from low to high.
My AC goes off.
This had happened a few times since construction began, so I call La C to ask her to send the plumber to the basement to switch the power back on. My phone doesn't work. My cell was out of batteries and the lights were flickering; not quite off, not on either.
I manage to get a dial tone on the fax machine.
“I’ve got no power!”
“The whole neighborhood is losing power. The lights just flickered off at the Life Café! I’m heading over to your place now!”
All of a sudden we hear a giant boom! It is the loudest noise I have ever heard in this hood. It is followed by a rumbling that spreads out. It reminds me of the sound of an avalanche. I remember the distant sound of the world trade center being hit. It occurs to me that a building nearby is going down.
“I gotta look! I gotta look!” I yell to La C and race to the roof.
The Empire State Building is in tact as are all the buildings that I can see. There is however black smoke billowing from the Con Edison Plant a few blocks away. I know by now that the Con Ed plant is one of the biggest terrorist threats. The city won’t even let you take the 15th street exit off the FDR drive now. They don’t want to take any chances. I’ve always felt a tad concerned about living so close to the plant.
I watch as people run out of the project on 12th street frightened and panicking.
I know that they are thinking exactly what I am feeling; that it’s September 11th all over again. I feel my heart banging in my throat.
I run down the paper stairs to see if La C has arrived. I find her on the stairs.
“They say a transformer blew!” she said.
“So it’s not….”
“No..” she said.
I begin the process of what will take me the rest of the day, trying to get my breathing to slow back down.
We walk outside to the sidewalk. The locals have begun congregating around car radios. The mini van in front of our place is blaring the news.
“There is no power in all 5 boroughs and the outage has reached as high as Canada. Thousands of people had to be evacuated from the subways.” The reporter says.
I breathe and look around at my neighbors. We are all confused, concerned, frightened but all lucky. At 4:30 a lot of people would have been in the trains, not as bad as 5:00, but pretty bad. I imagine how horrible it must be to be evacuated through those tunnels. I wonder how long they were trapped in the crowded trains on this hot summer day, with no AC and no lights.
“Buy water and candles..”
I run to Avenue C but the bodega has already pulled its gate down. The other old stores where hastily shutting down too. These are old timers. They've been in NYC long enough to remember the black out of 77. They aren’t taking any chances.
I moved to Brooklyn in 1981, just a few years after the terrible blackout, but the people in my hood still spoke about that terrible night in hushed horrified tones.
“They just walked down the streets with grocery carts and took anything they wanted. All the windows were broken. Everything was crazy!” One of my neighbors had told me.
La C’s friend waits in the car with the AC running. She was about to leave on a 6-hour car trip to Cape Cod. La C sits in the car with her trying to talk her out of driving.
I walk to Avenue B. The Korean Deli is open with a long line forming. They were selling anything people could carry in the dark. I bought two gallons of water and two protein bars.
Back at the hacienda, Jeff the dentist and Luce his assistant are standing outside with their arms folded. He’d been finishing up a filling when the power went out.
The radio voice says, “The traffic lights are out and pedestrians are volunteering to direct midtown traffic. Thousands of people can be seen walking over the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” I say to La C’s friend.
It occurs to me that I have nothing in my fridge except for a piece of cheese and a box of crackers. I’d been away for a month, my place was under construction and there wasn’t even a can of tuna fish in the apartment.
All the restaurants and stores close except the pizza place and already, there is a line out the store and down the block.
I walk back to Avenue C to see what my friends at Cafecito the adorable little Cuban joint are going to do. The prep cooks are sitting outside on the steps. The owners have a consternated look on their faces. They couldn’t get their security gate to go down. It is electric.
“We’re gonna have to throw everything out,” Manny says.
“I guess the sangria is gonna go bad so maybe we should make the neighbors happy,” I say hinting loudly.
We walk back to the hacienda with two pitchers of sangria, a pitcher of ice and a stack of plastic cups. Mike the cool dude from next door is sitting on the stoop, we fill him up, then Luce, Jeff, La C, her friend, two strangers, the super next door and myself.
“It may have started in Niagara,” the radio says.
“Damn Canadians!” a local says.
“Hey Manny if you’re gonna throw stuff out, how bout some munchies for us!” I say nudging him.
He takes me back to Cafecito and loads me up with turkey, cheese, rice, beans and a few rolls. Then he gives me three cold beers in a plastic bag.
I return happy that at least I have a meal for the night for La C and myself.
“What you got?” Mike says.
“Cafecito plunderings…get over there before they give it all away.”
Amy from the 3rd floor comes by and I send her to Cafecito too.
She returns with the same thing; turkey, cheese, rice and beans and bread.
Ivan, Amy’s roommate shows up. He looks pale and its covered in sweat.
“I had to walk from Time Square. I saw people trapped in a glass elevator. I little girl was crying. All the lights were out in Times Square. I almost started to cry myself.”
I send him to Cafecito and he returns a few minutes with a tray filled with roast pork.
No one has a working kitchen or lights, so we make hasty plans to meet on the roof for a makeshift potluck pilfered barbecue supper.
La C manages to get a room at the W hotel in Union Square for her pal.
“I’m gonna walk her over there. I’ll be back within two hours, save me some food.”
I remember that Jay was supposed to come down from Spanish Harlem and meet me for drinks at 6:00. I can’t call him but decide that only a truly psychopath would have tried to walk the 100 blocks to see me. He’s probably home reading by candlelight, a true bohemian to his core.
I go upstairs and find a battery-operated radio, I bring this, a bottle of water and some candles to the roof. I try to find anything resembling a plate or a fork but all the contents of my cupboard are hidden under a pile of boxes.
On the roof I look out over the city. At this point, an hour before sunset, with the first bits of amber haze starting to darken the air, one would begin to see the lights of the skyscrapers. It would be at this point that I would get my first glimpse of what color the Empire State Building had decided to cloak herself in. Nothing illuminates except for a growing number of candles beginning to appear in windowsills in the projects.
I have this pang of self pity, knowing that it’s been hard enough to navigate around my apartment with the lights on, but in the black-out it’s gonna be hell. I have no food in my home except for the pilferings from Cafecito and the piece of cheese and the crackers and my allergies have taken over big time.
“Hello sweetie!” comes the voice on the roof.
I look up. It’s Jay. He is bright red and covered in sweat. His t-shirt is sticking to his body.
“Oh my god! Tell me you didn’t walk 100 blocks to see me!”
“Well sweetie. I wanted to get out of my house and I wanted to stay with my other friend downtown and I guess I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Awwww.. poor little baby afraid of the dark.”
Jay does not have the same upbeat smile that usually adorns his face. I am used to his manic energy, his contagious laughter and his “nothing gets me down” personality. Today he seems strange and small.
“Are you okay?”
“Well sweetie…you know ….I am not...You see a few days ago. I tested positive for H.I.V. …so...I just have to sort things out for awhile.”
"Oh my god Jay!"
Just then Manny emerges on the roof carrying semi thawed steaks and fish from Cafecito.
“Let’s Barbecue!” he screams.
I am left with Jay’s announcement sitting in my ears buzzing waiting for a reply that I now cannot give as we are no longer alone.
I walk over to Jay and put my arms around his shoulders.
“We’ll talk about this later..okay.” I said.
“Yes.” He smiles.
Amy, Ivan, Mike and Amy’s two gal pals arrive just as the last bit of sun is setting. We light candles and turn our small collection of flashlights upwards. I make excuses to walk to Jay often and rub his back, run my fingers in his hair. I am trying to say, “I am here and I care,” amidst the abrupt party around us.
“Later sweetie….we’ll talk next week.” He says.
I navigate with a flashlight down the black stairs in search of something to marinate the steak and fish with. The paper has by now become something of a death trap. I nearly fall enroute to my 4th floor apartment.
There are only two items I can find in my home that might be suitable; a bottle of soy sauce and a bottle of honey Dijon. My cats run at the sight of the flashlight. The construction debris was enough to upset their delicate balance but the heat and the roving beams from the flashlight send them hiding in the bedroom.
Back on the roof I marinate the steak and then the fish in soy sauce, mustard, beer and olive oil. Jay volunteers to grill by flashlight.
While the entrees are cooking Amy doles out paper plates and we begin to compile our meal made out of the pilferings of Cafecito; rice and beans, turkey, cheese, roast pork, warm beer, bottles of water. When Jay finishes the entrée’s we pile our paper plates high oblivious to the juices run through to the picnic table. Oddly the meat and the fish are deemed delicious.
La C shows up just in time to get the last piece of steak and fish. I cover this with rice and beans.
She smiles and yells, “Man this is so much nicer than the W hotel. Here in the east village, you get free food from the restaurant on the corner; your neighbors are sharing bread and water. The W charged us 500 bucks for a room up 10 flights of stairs. There was no running water, no power, no AC. They closed the restaurant and charged us 23 bucks for a beer and a glass of wine!”
“They didn’t give out anything free to their guests?”
“Just water….and I think they double charged everything else.”
It’s clear that a night like this can bring out the best and the worst of people.
I walk around the roof and look out at the dark city. The Empire State Building is black. There are no lights anywhere except at ground zero.
“They must have put in generators after 911!” someone said.
“Well they deserve to be the only ones with power after everything they’ve been through!”
We joke and drink water and eat our strange combination plates, but there is an eerie feeling of deja vus from September 11th that covers us all in something between sadness and fear.
Two helicopters with searchlights fly by and hover over the projects a few blocks away. They beam their lights down searching. We hear sirens and shouts and see what we assume to be police searching the project with flashlights on the next block over.
“There’s gonna be some shit tonight,” I say.
I listen to the shouts and the sirens and remember Crown Heights Brooklyn where I came into adulthood. It’s been years since I lived in what you would call a dangerous neighborhood but my body tenses up in something like a physical memory. I have no desire to go back to where I’ve come from, no desire to even look back.
La C smokes a Cuban cigar and we pass around a bottle of single malt scotch. There are now a few more people on the roof, friends of a neighbor we think. We don’t know who they are, but we give them melting ice pops anyway.
“Well sweetie I should go..” Jay says.
“I’ll walk you down.”
I escort him down the black ripped paper stairs with my flashlight and walk him out to the street. Everything is black except for a large group of giggling Asian women huddled around candles scurrying down the street.
“Will you be okay?”
“Yes..honey…I will stay to the main streets…I don’t have far to go.”
“Call me…I want to know everything…every step of the way..”
“Allright …we’ll have dinner next week and then we’ll talk.”
We hug and I watch him disappear into the darkness. I feel him walking away long after I lose sight of him.
La C and I say goodnight to our roof guests and run a bath of ice-cold water. There is no hot water, but we are so hot we don’t care. We submerge into the cold water and feel the heat rising out of bodies like steam.
La C falls asleep immediately but I lie awake for awhile listening to the sirens and the shouting from the projects.
We spend the night naked, with the blankets kicked off on the floor, dreaming of fans and air conditioners.
In the morning I am awakened by the sound of silence. No one in my building is showering to go to work. No one is pulling their cars out of the lot. The silence is strange and frightening. It reminds me of the eerie calm on September 12th.
I sit there feeling my allergies reach into my sinuses and feeling the heat covering my body and the sad deja vus and I know that nothing I feel this morning can compare to how Jay must be feeling, waking up in someone else’s apartment and knowing that today he faces the world with a new burden in his heart.
He is alone, without family, without insurance and without a lover.
I have nothing to complain about.
La C and wake up and make a breakfast out of 2 cups of boiled water borrowed from Mike next door which I pour through a funnel filled with coffee to make her coffee and pour over a cup with a green tea bag for myself. We eat cookies.
We take ice showers and go about the mission of trying to figure out how to feed ourselves.
We dress and walk out into our hood. Nothing is open except the Life Café. They are serving warm water and eggs. We walk a little further. Just about every pizza place is open.
Pizza, it seems, is blackout proof; dough, cheese and sauce in a gas oven. The pizza places have a line down the block.
We walk through Tompkins Square Park. We have never seen so many sunbathers in the park before. People who took this Friday off and scattered everywhere in various stages of undress. In the middle of the park is the remnant of what was a huge fire made of garbage. It is still smoking as we pass.
We go to Marguerites place; La Palapa on St Marks. She has no food or ice but is serving chips with salsa and guacamole and margaritas straight up to anyone who wants it.
We keep walking.
Someone says there is power on the west side, so we walk past delis serving warm water and cut fruit, more pizza places with long lines. Finally on West 16th Street we come upon my friend Arlene’s place; Maroons. Arlene, ever the entrepreneur has taken all her fridge items and cooked the hell of them. She is serving fried chicken, jerk chicken, ribs, Mac and cheese, rice and beans and collard greens from a buffet made out of aluminum chafing dishes. The food is greasy and salty and decadently tasty but its not cheap. We pay 33 dollars for our two meals, but we no one was complaining.
“Honey I’m gonna keep serving food as long as people keep eating!” Arlene screams in delight.
After we eat, we make our way back home, on passing radios we hear that power has returned to 65% of NYC but nowhere we pass has any power.
The East Village is still powerless when we return.
We take an ice bath and La C lies down in bed.
“God I would love to watch some TV..” she says grumpily.
The excitement of last night’s potluck supper has lost its edge. We are hot, bitchy and bored. We want our power back.
I take this opportunity to throw out all the rotting food in my fridge and take it downstairs to the garbage dump. Then I go around the corner to the only place open, you guessed it, the pizza joint.
I buy 4 slices from the small man in the dark restaurant and coerce him into selling me a plastic cup filled with red wine for La C.
La C is unconscious and snoring when I return so I put her food and wine aside and climb to the roof.
The sun is setting, many locals are up on their roofs taking advantage of a wondrous breeze. I see the top of the Empire State Building begin to show signs of white and charcoal light. The distant buildings downtown and in the far west begin to show signs of light but our area is still dark.
I light a candle and watch as the terrace apartments in the project begin to light up with candles.
There is a lot of shouting and carrying on the street. People are having fun, and people are fighting. It’s hard to tell the difference in the sounds.
As the sky turns black, large parts of Manhattan begin to light up but nowhere on the Lower East Side.
I go downstairs into the black paper stairs, fed up and dejected and light the candles scattered around my apartment.
At 9:00 PM, 28 hours and 40 minutes after we lost our power, the lights begin to come on. There is a scream of YAY from the projects and whooping and car beeping and cheers from a mile away. I run up to the roof to watch all the lights go on and scream too.
Then I run back to La C.
“Thank god….” She says.
Suddenly the phone works, the fan works, the TV works, the computer works and our black little hot hole in which we’ve hidden for the last nearly 29 hours becomes a part of the world again.
I think of Crown Heights and of September 11th.
How silly I was to think these things were erased from me. How fully they re-appeared the second the lights went out.
I shrug it off and call Jay.
Wednesday, August 13
OKAY I NEED TO TAKE A LIL BREAK FROM MY
UNPLUGGED TOUR GUIDE OF DOWNTOWN NYC
MY WAY OF SAYING
YES THE BITCH IS BACK
TO RANT ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE
WHAT I WANT TO RANT ABOUT IS
YES ARNOLD FOR GOVERNOR
hehehe fooled you
you thought i was gonna go into a capitalization kick
but i got over it
yes i am a democrat
however wimpy my fellow dems have been
get those balls up fellas!
i do rather hate celebrities who jump into the political arena
go back to your beer bottle and leave us alone!
oh and beat your wife too
you know like the old days
i actually kinda like the arnold for gov thing
i guess its because way back when in the mid 80's
i was temporarily sucked into the female bodybuilding craze
yes dears i went to the gym 6 days a week
and ate amino acids for lunch
i ditched the bodybuilding world when i discovered that women really could not advance without steroids and lordy i have enough problems shaving my legs
without growing a beard on top of it
but what i remember was that arnold
who i just assumed was a ^%$#&* idiot
smiled his broken smile
talked in his heavy accent
almost single handedly
elevated the sport of body building
from highway 35
to sunset boulevard
i thought to myself
its just luck
but then he snagged a role in Conan
i said he cant act to save his life
so Hollywood is just desperate for a pair of biceps the size of bowling balls
but then he kept on acting
and he got smaller
shit he's almost human size now!
he still cant act
he still cant talk
he's still butt ugly
but the dude is commanding
millions per film
and married the toothiest kennedy
of em all
so im guessing yep
he's probably got smarts
kinda reminds of dolly parton
she's been playing the blonde bimbo
for decades now
shes half of sanddollar productions
one of the busiest television productions companies
and she's worth kazillions honey
the singing stints are just for fun now
by the way
i heard from a reliable source that when dolly's not working
she's got short hair, wears no make-up and shes a total butch
now you know she's brilliant!
but i digress
how much worse could arnold be
then what we've been stuck with
so why not let him muscle
at the very least
it will get more young folks to the polls
it almost sounds like i like a republican here
its downright histerical
you gotta admit it
and its so ridiculous it just might work
besides how right wing
could arnold get
he's spent half his life posing in a bikini
*** and now back to your regularly scheduled programming
the best of the best
kissing the lower half of the lady..
also known as
what i dig downtown
if you love
cafe' con leche
there is only one place
one place this side of Miami
or um well Cuba to go
and that is
the all new
Cafecito part of the avalanche of new hip eateries on avenue c
The Cafecito boys opened up in what was an old liquor store
on C between 11th and 12th...an old hood stretch chock full of drunks sipping beer out of paper bags and a thousand kids all congregating on the corner
sucking on ice pops
The boys....one Cuban two gringos...dish out a Cuban sandwich that will make your arteries harden just looking at it..honey I know it must be good cause all the supers in the neighborhood go there
they also have a white sangria laced with peach thats almost as sexy as I am
come for the coffee
its like liquid cocaine
and you wont sleep for days
what can i say Hell is delicious
Oh and a big FYI
thanks to GAWKER.COM
for the very
VERY nice plug
listen to me i'm gawking
man it must be the coffee fumes from cafecito
kissing the lower half continued
here we go with part two of my kissing the lower lady
unplugged tour of my faves in downtown Manhattan
so fire your tour guide
and read on
as I hinted yesterday
i want to tell you about the diva of hair
the place to have your scalp treated like it is the golden calf
it's called DEVACHON and its in Soho on Broadway off Prince..
you'll never find it dearies as its in the basement of what looks like an office building at 560 Broadway..
but trust me its worth it
when they wash your hair, they give you a 20 minute scalp massage and the whole time you are surrounding by white mosquito netting so you feel like you're all alone on an island with a sexy nubile island babe running her fingers along your brain
the best part is Lorraine, the goddess of curl and owner of the place
she's kind of a cross between sarah jessica parker and barbara streisand with a british accent and janis joplin energy
Ms Diva no longer takes on new clients
but i got there first
i got there first
na na, na, na na
but her well trained
curl experts will take you on and on and on
the entire joint is set up to worship
preserve and support curly hair
since every other salon in america is set up to destroy
straighen and cut the curl
its about time
you get your hair done
how bout making a full day of it
and having your belly button
or some other part hmmm
well my all time fave place for
and also great tattoo work
is New York Adorned
on 3rd street and 2nd avenue
this is also where the great La Matrix
had her bad ass tattoo done
ALAS JILLMATRIX.COM IS NO MORE...OR I WOULD TELL YOU TO GO CHECK OUT HER BAD ASS TATTOO PICTURES...NANCY HAS CLOSED THE SITE
TO DEDICATE HERSELF TO QUEERDAY.COM...OH LA MATRIX
YOU WILL BE MISSED...BOO HOOOO BUT OH LA-QUEERDAY COME ON DOWN!
BUT I DIGRESS.....as always...hehehhe
what i love about "NYADORNED"
is that they don't cater to 16 year old tourists
they are a hang out and a destination point
for tattoo and piercing enthousiasts
and while you're waiting
you might just find some truly gorgeous jewelry
if you read "The Breakfast March" over in memoirable
you know my NY adorned piercing story
go the hell over there and read it
onwards and upwards in our
full body splurge day
you've got the doo done
the belly pierced
a dragon inked on your bicep
Food of course!
and considering the pain you may be in
perhaps a mind numbing cocktail or two
so walk on over to Marions
on the Bowery just around the bend from 3rd street
so you can stumble out of New York Adorned and its just around the corner
Marions is a kitsch shangrila
a cross between a 1950's living room and a 1970's drag queen's bedroom
they pour the meanest martinis of all shades and flavors
and are the only place i know
since Trader Vics left NYC
to serve a poo poo or is it pu pu platter
from its flaming perch
dine in Hawaiin style chicken drums
and a million other things
i was too drunk to remember
Marions is right next door to The Bowery Bar
which every city kid knows is the beacon to trendoids
but go to Marions you'll feel something like love
maybe its only polyestor
but soak in it all the same
well love bugs
there you have it
part two of Rossi's guide to downtown manhattan
and get down with your bad self
Tuesday, August 12
The I Love the Lower Half of Manhattan Week-long Kiss-athon
well my lovelies
since i am back in NYC
and since i do
love downtown manhattan
honey i get nose bleeds at 14th street
by 23rd i need my passport stamped
but i digress
since im in love with the lower half
of my lady love miss manhattan
don't go there
this is a g-rated post
i thought i would dedicate the rest of this week
to telling you all my fave things to do in downtown manhattan
the kissing the ladies lower half
there we go again
first and foremost
i must tell you about the all time best place in the east village to get a cheap, no frills breakfast, by a tattooed and pierced waitress
and leave totally full fur under 5 bucks including tip!! and a phone number or two!
The Life Cafe' on Ave B and 10th Street
Life deserves much applauce because they were early Avenue B pioneers. From their wraparound outdoor seating to the ram,bam rock&roll rustic interior they have looked out on Thompkins Square Park and doled out enough burgers and nachoes to fill Rosie Odonnell and ELizabeth Taylor on a bulimic binge since yuppies were afraid to come east of Avenue A..
The drinks are strong, the happy hour cheap, but come, come, come for the breakast. $2.75 buys you bitter strong coffee as many refills as you want, eggs any way you like em, hash browns or rice and beans, biscuit or cornbread and a whole lotta attention from a 20-something waitress with no Bra.
Life is worth living!
Alphabet Kitchen just opened a little over a year ago (or was it two..my how time flys when you're having sangria) on 11th street and Avenue A.
This sexy, lowlit, Latin eatery pours some great sangria and tapas to die for. I love the stuffed chilies and the olive plate. For dinner they have a lamb shank that's so melt off the bone, you don't have to chew it. I love food I don't have to chew, don't ask me why? but Jews hate to chew if we can avoid it, hence goulash, lamb shank, chopped liver, you get the point.
Alphabet also has a fun new zinger called champagne sangria. Which is good for those who like a little bubble in their punch. BURP! sorry.
For those who love old world food with a high end kick, try the new and improved Leshkos on 7th and Ave. A. They kept the menu from the old Polish Diner but jazzed it up with oh so trendy and groovy decor. So basically you pay 15 bucks for the same blintz but you get to have it surrounded by gorgeous gay men dressed in Prada and with a cosmopolitan. I sit in the window and give mean looks to all the zero body-fat bitches with pierced bellybuttons. That's my fave sport....WHOOPS SORRY CHITLINS BUT EVIDENTLY WHILST I WAS IN P-TOWN
LESHKOS BECAME YUCA AND I DONT KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THE NEW JOINT
AS YET SINCE ITS NOT OPEN...SO IM GUESSING THE HOOD FOLKS GOT TIRED OF THE 15 BUCK BLINTZES NO MATTER HOW MUCH CUTENESS OR PRADA SURROUNDED IT....I DID LIKE THE WINDOW THOUGH..NOT THE FOOD BUT THE WINDOW WAS PRIMO AH WELLL...have to stare at the zero body fat bitches somewhere else....maybe Thompkins Square Park at the dog run...yeah...
Well that's it for this little dose...I'll be back tomorrow with the all time best place in the world to get your hair done while surrounded by mosquito netting.
oh and to all those visiting NYC from out of town
consider this your tour guide UNPLUGGED
Monday, August 11
back in the USS
back in the USS
back in the USSNY
yesindeedeee dumplings i arrived at around midnight after a hellacious ride through a thunder storm from hell with two angry pussies
that'd be ahem my cats
and wound up having to stay in a hotel for a couple days
cause my apartment
is still under a pile of sawdust
i did tell you that the hiatus to ptown was prompted by the fact that my place
was being totally renovated didnt i?
and that LA CUBANA is in charge of the renovation?
these things always run over schedule and the fact that all the plumbing items i purchased were missing a part or two or three didnt help
hey im a girl
what do i know about pipes
except for the ones ive seen in SM bars of course
but hey honey
this hotel is swank
BIG ASS BATH TUB
and close to home
so im not complaining
except of course that i have to move back into my place tomorrow
and im allergic to the construction dust
and honey its covered in it
but what the heck
in the end
when the dust settles
and my sinuses return
ill have a killer pad
anyway im bak in NYC
and already got my bitch back
so watch out
LA C is doing a great job
the bathroom looks like it should in an Italian Villa
but then again so should I
bring me my vino
yes an Italian villa would be just fine
im a princess
never said otherwise
so you cant sue me for false advertising
Sunday, August 10
the great tuchas kissing
darling david...who is god's gift to jaded bitchy women who think men can no longer be caring kind and sensitive
and sorry bitches he's not into girls NATCH
but he'll still fill you with his love juice
over at "sketches of strain" on my linky love list
has made a very sexy suggestion about a menage a blog
mixing me with some sultry estrogen
darling the very thought has conjured up images
of far too much red wine
the playing of mournful raspy billy holiday in the background
and the need for a very long cigarette afterwards
sadly i no longer smoke
and my homeopathic diet from hell
YES IM STILL ON IT!!! AAAAKKK!!!
won't let me indulge in the grape
although i did cheat a little itty bit whilst here
but you know the thought got me thinking about how much
and jazzing up i do get from my great pals who've i've never met
out here in blog land
i must here and now salute
the sexy, powerful raging queen of in your face
"I CALL LIKE I SEE IT"isms Michele of Small Victory
on the linky love list of course
so reach your lazy tuchas over one and a half inches to the left and click on "small victory"
Michele (one L dears and don't you forget it)
has been pushing my backbone up for some time now
i really do get so much inspiration from watching her ROAR
but i do from all my linkie loves and my new friends
who have come into my life and shared themselves via the comments
so i must say
rossirant readers and linkers
because you have really made this all
so much more wonderful
than i ever knew it could be
i bow to thee
from the bottom of my
enough of my tuchas kissing
you've had anough
so fuck off
Saturday, August 9
the artist's soul
well la cubana is back in town
to help make my last weekend in provincetown
and a few other words
that i wont say in mixed company
but would surely make you need a cold shower
itll be a whole month
that i wound up being out of NYC
during which time
i have written
landed myself in an art show
the opening last night was Fabuuu darlings
and even have a piece in an art auction
which will be on the web oct 1st and ill show yaall the link as soon as i have it
its been an amazing month
for so many reasons
you see 12 years i walked away from my life as a super stressed out
supper club chef
sublet my chelsea apartment
and went to live in provincetown
for 6 months
it was there and then
that i started to write for the first time professionally
i rented a one room piece of shit bungalow
hidden behind a high wooden fence
hidden behind a dumpster
but i had grassy front yard
that i shared with three other piece of shit bungalows
i had a bed
and a small kitchen
it was really all i needed
i ran a chord
to the front yard
and typed away on my little electric typewriter
honey this was years before laptops
and the only computers i knew about
where in NASA
(yes I know some savy folks had them even then but did anyone you knew?)
for 6 months i lived a writer's life
fell into infactuation
wrote for the local magazine
danced in the streets
it was a merry time
then i came back to NYC to the worst hell imaginable
i was ripped off
lost the person whod loved me the most
to heart failure
oh you name it
and was immediately submerged
in survival of the bitchiest
and didn't look back
i didnt paint for 8 years either
then slowly i built a new life
with higher walls but walls with more entrances
and a few years ago started to paint again
and write in a deeper way then ever before
and here i am 12 years later
living the artist/writers life for a month
seeing my work hung somewhere
sipping lousy white wine at galleries
eating too much cheese
walking the beach in hazy drizzly weather
pounding away at my
now electric laptop into the wee hours
its been transformative dears
and i hope
that when i return to NYC this sunday
i find a way to keep this side of my soul alive and kicking
and dont bury it
but for now
for this day
this yet again
rainy grey day
my love is sleeping near by
the cats are fed and happy
my artists soul is satiated
and im feeling just fine
ill keep you posted
Thursday, August 7
well here's a little good news
after my last gloom and doom rant
hey it's hard to stay proudly bitchy all the time
have to lick their wounds
here in Provincetown is an art opening
at the Provincetown Art Association and Museum
know to locals as PAAM
i've got a painting in it
this little arty mama
has been busy
they'll be displaying a minimalist nude i did
in which a woman is proudly
defiantly marching forward
head against the wind
and the text reads
it will be wonderful to come to my first opening in town
that something of mine is in
and the painting will be up for a month
so if you get to town check it out and let me know what you think
at some point
i'm going to beg my pal and art exhibit co-producer partner collaborator
and inspiration dude DROR
to photograph my new work and put it up on the web for you'all to see
cant wait to show you
i did i must admit finally paint a
but it came out so feminine
that i cant decide if i painted a transgender angel
yep there are wings too
or a girly man
or chick with a dick
or hell you decide
the text above it reads
"WHEN SHE WAS A MAN"
i think im gonna call it "TRANS ANGEL"
im back in the art mode
if i cant do anything to stop the war
the homophobic idiots
the anti israel bastards
and the end of Buffy the Vampire Slayer
which i still mourn
then i can at least
write and paint
and try to color the world
with something a little sexy
a little pretty
and a lot weird
hey at least it will be a distraction
Tuesday, August 5
rain, ghosts and wonder
well its a rainy ghosty night in provincetown
the bay is fogged over
a distant fishing ship is shining a beacon of light back and forth as it tries to dock
tourists are running by in the drizzle huddled under umbrellas
and everything is feeling
haunting and surreal
i love this feeling
it's an electric eerie
sensation that reminds me of
ghost stories around the camp fire
its nights like this
that i do my best writing
and im working on a very supernatural tale
at the moment
but what i wanted to rant about
i guess was while i'm in this supernatural
electic ghostly frame of mind
and having just really opened myself up
in my last post on religioin
is how excited and how frightened i am with the world today
im excited that so many people around me
want the earth to survive and excell
want an end to terror
im terrified that all around me
and suicide bombings
now another one in indonesia
and more soldiers being killed in iraq
and the vietman later days
deja vus is getting stronger and stronger
i know that in every generation in a time of war
and in a time of terror
people sit around as i am now
tonight in the ghost rain
and worry about us all
i wish i had more answers
i wish i had any answers
i only know
that killing innocent lives in the name of religion
i only know that blindly following dictators and madmen
simply because you are too afraid to oppose them
is why those madmen are in power
i worry so much for israel
the last hurrah
the end of the journey
that salvation for so many who have been cast out
who have emerged from genocide
i worry that israel will one day
be no more
destroyed by greed
killed by fundamentalist fanatics
i worry that one day
if i ever need a place to run too
when the shit hits the fan
that there won't be anywhere to go
i have seen the world trade center collapse right before me
on a crisp lovely sunny morning when all seemed right with the world
i have smelled the ashes of thousands of dead
watched mothers pushing their strollers and their babies wearing ventilation masks
i have held blank and ruined faces in my hands and tried to offer comfort
to a fireman, a cop, a construction worker, a janitor, a school teacher, an actor, a secutity guard who had been passing buckets filled with body parts from a steaming burning hole
i am not innocent anymore
i know you aren't either
i worry for us all
Sunday, August 3
the godly way
i've been reading some really top knotch writing on the web lately
and a lot of it has really inspired me to think and write and delve into my own soul searching
one such writer is the hasidic rebel, yep he's on my link love list
and you who have read me for awhile know im a big fan of the rebels
you see not only is he a brilliant writer but he's also living a dangerous double life
by day deeply imbedded in chasidus
by night the secret teller of tales
the blogger who is spilling the beans from the inner circle
i just came across a deep honest and very frank post on his own journey in this thing called religion
as many of you know is one of the three big boo boos
one should never discuss religion, politics or money
when in a social setting
thats why in blog land
we simply roll in all three
cause we love to do
the things that polite society
tells us not too
let me share a paragraph with you from the rebels post
and then i suggest when you're done reading my post
thank you very much
you go over to rebel land
and read his entire piece
a lot of you may ask
why i dont punch in the code
here in my post and not force you to REACH
two inches over to click on my link
well partially thats cause im a lazy bitch
and partially it is as
i have told you many times
because i am technologically retarded
anyway heres that slice from the rebel
"My intuition led me to believe in the existence of G-d, one supreme creator of the universe who cares about each human being and listens to our prayers. I established my personal philosophy that humans have an ability and an imperative to lead spiritual lives through prayer and contemplation of G-d and his creation, and by adhering to the universally recognized good deeds. I believed that distinctions between good and evil and between right and wrong were within each human's conscience if they are truly sought out. And I believed that no ideology's truth can be so wholly absolute as to require its adherents to compel everyone else to join."
Lord I love me that rebel
a special person in my life
spent 40 of 46 years in the jehovahs witness religion
when she left that religion
she has to start a whole new life
she had to walk away from her friends
everything that had protected and imprisoned her
she felt lost and angry
she felt as though she'd wasted 40 years of her life
and i told her
that what she had experienced was a unique platform
a spectacular background
of unusual experience
from which she could spring forth
and become almost anything
from a therapist
to an inspirational speaker
to a poet
to a politician
oh you name it
i understand her experience
because it is much like
how it feels to leave chasidus or ultra orthodox judaism
i was not raised ultra orthodox
only what you might call
we kept kosher
went to shul
i was only allowed to date jewish boys
i was pressured to keep jewish friends
sent to a yeshivah when i was 11
and promptly expelled
and ultimately sent to live
with a community of chasids
(read return to kingston avenue in the memoriable section for this story dears)
the end result
honey if i wasn't jewish
i would have become anti-semitic
it took me years to want to go into a synagogue again
and i still wince with the pain of
some super bad memories when i see a chasid
you see what i saw in that community
mixed in with the joy and love
and true spirituality was a huge chunk of hipocracy
a huge chunk of fear
and the world's largest chunk
of following the masses
a new friend of mine
is also an ex jehovahs witness
he now gives sermons
to former witnesses looking for a new path
he left a recent sermon for me to read
and the part that got me
was where he said any religion that
forces one to lose ones individuality
we are all different from one another
we can not be shoved into one
so here's where i come in with my own take on all of this
i do believe in one god
i do believe in good vs evil
i feel that the frame-work that works best for me
its in my blood
it feels like home to me
but i also must say
that the bible however truly inspired it may be
or may not be
depending on your own beliefs
was passed down by men
was written by men
was interpreted by men
how can any sane person
think that these men would not have colored it
now let me ask you this
and think deeply on this question
how would the bible
the old testament
the new testament
whatever you read
if it were written by women?
open your minds and think about this
would there be less blood
less war written about
and more about love
would there be more female heroes??
would kings who kept many wifes and many lovers
be written about as cruel
rather than brave?
would the killing of anyones first born
be called a holocaust of the worst kind
even if those were the first born of your enemy??
who is to know
so here i am
i believe in a higher power
i know in my heart that a truly good person goes to a truly good place
i have chosen to stay with my born faith
and my faith of my ancestry
but i do not denounce your faith
i will not try to convert you to mine
i will not try to stamp you out or call you a lost soul
if you don't believe in god
i will not rise to the office of president of the united states
and then attempt to inflict my religious beliefs on my
i will simply be the best person i can be
and beg you to do the same
this is the godly way
Friday, August 1
birthday bitching bout the bush
for the first day of my birthday
my true love gave to me
a private late night cruise on a riverboat style yachttttttt
for the second day of my birthday my true love gave to meeeeeee
a lovely lazy day followed by champagne and hors d'oeuvressssss
well now my lady love has gone back to nyc
and left me here all alone
to miss her
and feel lovesick
no longer sexually frustrated
i will not go into it
dont even bother asking
lets just say
it was better than the boat ride okay?
she left a couple hours ago
and im staying out here in provincetown till she comes to get me
and the two fat cats on wednesday
ive gone back to business so im haggling with the clients from hell
but at least im doing so
100 feet from the beach
she brought me allllll the mail
so i just finished paying
oh hmm 15 or so bills??!!
hey shouldn't there be a rule
that while we are actually not bringing in any cash
we should not be billed
its only fair!
between the bills
and the kvetching clients
i have floated back to earth
so i can rant away
placed in my
oh so fashionable shoes
so here's what id like to rant about
if you will indulge my
and think deeply about what i am about to ask you...
why is it
with all the democrats out there
who hate bush
who hate war
who hate republican crapola
we can't find anyone better than leiberman to want to run against this guy
i mean hello
i think the baby bush has raised what is it 170 million buckaroos?!
for his campaign
and nobody wants to stand up and take him on
ill say it again
i was not anti-war on iraq
and lord knows im pro israel
hello what sane person could not be?
but i am sooooooo anti baby bush
aside from the fact that
hes practically walking around with a bumper sticker on his forehead that reads
"say goodbye to your right to choose if i have my way"
and that his attitude towards gay marriage
is pretty much
"if my church doesn't support it than i dont either"
followed by a hearty does of
"it's like ummm just a sin you know dude"
and that his attitude about the separation of church and state is
"yeah any church thats not mine should be 86'd from the state"
the real issue is
plain and simple
he's just retarded
oh sorry thats no longer PC
he's as they say mentally challenged
the guys an idiot
A FUCKING MORON!!!
but the very least they can do is give us a president that makes us feel
like if he's not smarter than us
he can at least hold his own in a conversation
oyy friggen vey
maybe its not very patriotic of me
to diss on the baby bush
someone's gotta do it
now here's the other major problem
with my fellow democrats
its seems you've all become a big bunch of ass kissing woosies
what happened to standing up for what you believe in?
what the hell have any of you had to say lately that sounds any different then that baby bushers?
it's getting harder and harder to tell the difference between the Dems and the Repubs... if there is a difference any more
hell i guess ill just vote for who i like
like i said
is anyone gonna step up to the plate here?
are there any democrats out there who still have cajones (did i spell that one right?)
oh you know BALLS
thats where im at
when it comes to politics at the moment
its my bithday and ill bitch if i want tooo
bitch if i want tooooo
i dont think birthdays should last a day
so mine is creeping out into the whole damn week
sue me if you don't like it
by the way darlings
i was gonna give you a hell fire rant about gay marriage
but david over
at sketches of strain has done it for me
go read him now
click over on the link to the left
yeah reach over
there you goo
in david land
he's a gas