“ Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don’t learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say no. But saying “yes” begins things. Saying “yes” is how things grow. Saying “yes” leads to knowledge. “Yes” is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say “yes. — Stephen Colbert
I was flipping thru unicornology the other day (one of my favorite tumblr blogs on the web) and was so struck by this lomo shot from 'Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist', that I had to click away from the page. I didn't intend on dating Michael Cera, but apparently 'Juno' made more of an impression on me than I wanted it to, cause dude looks just like J.
It's still hard for me to look into the eyes of the person I feel the most intimate with. In fact, I seem to have an odd sort of Jedi-psychic connection with the people I am the closest to. We can hear our own feelings thru each other's presence and voices. Without even touching, we make contact. When I look others in the eye, it has to come from a place of complete purity and curiosity. Or it can come with dire consequences. See, I think that when I look people in the eye, we'll fall in love. They'll see the deepest parts of myself. And I can't love everyone, I'm only one person.
Hey there! Thanks for stopping in, I'll be back soon with scenes from Penny's Big Gay Weekend (where I may officially change sexual orientation) I and II. For now, please enjoy our Barack Obama endorsement for today.
I feel like a such a ghetto traitor-but fuck if I don't love me some American Chinese food. Last night, Ms. Thang aka Mercedez Munro got us dinner for rehearsal. Such a plethora of deliciousness; pot stickers, chili wontons, fried shrimp rings, combo chow mein, cha siu and yes, the high priestess of bastardized Chinese food, CRAB RANGOON. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this delicacy - it is basically a combination of fake crab meat, green onions and cream cheese - stuffed into a wonton wrapper and deep fried. Served with sweet and sour dipping sauce - this abomination reaches the height of ancestor insult...too bad those damn things are so yummy. I made this point, while reaching into the box for another one and Zyller asked me why they weren't traditional.
"Cream cheese does not exist in China."
Ok, that's not strictly true. But it is a well-documented fact that lactose based products do not feature heavily in any Asian cuisine and did not til the 19th century. So the introduction of things such as cheese, milk, yogurt and even ice cream was made exclusively by Western explorers/colonists. They may have even been inserted into Asian menus to appeal to Europeans. (case in point: I made fun of J. recently for wanting to order them) But they are not familiar in a traditional Chinese diet and would account for a large number of Asians being lactose intolerant. There are a lot of cuisines that have been modified to suit their regional area and regional products. In Italy chow mein is made with spaghetti. In the states, we are blessed with the mall trash lovechild known as Panda Express. Zyller copped to a total addiction to PEx even mentioning a Pavlovian response while thinking about it. I have to admit, even I've been known to succumb to the addictive delights of orange chicken, stir fried beans and the occasional egg roll(MSG!!). But never, ever, do I think of this food as being Chinese food. It may be Asian inspired - but it is no closer to being Asian than Clay Aiken is to being straight. It puts up a good front, but at the end of the day - it's as gay as Nathan Lane at a Macy's Day Parade.
Then I danced with a drag queen and a porn star.
I told you I had the quan. By the way, I'll be here tonight, representin' with Ms. Munro if you are inclined to attend. Desperate Divas Pageant 2009 for the AIDS Housing Alliance SF
Via the Urban Dictionary (because silly OLD me, I didn't know what DYL stood for and I had to look it up)
1. quan When you are one with something. Suggests unity or completion. A loosely defined quality combining or uniting athletic skill with love and respect, as well as money. This word is used in the movie Jerry Maguire by Tom Cruise and Cuba Gooding Jr. "Jerry, you are the ambassador of quan." And "Some players have coin, but I have the quan."
2. quan anyone who is out of control You're outta control Quan! quan juan juanito gay boy quanito 3. quan the ultimate; the almighty; the maximum overlord
Uh..Mymymy's maiden name is Quan. So technically I am 1/2 Quan. Bow down bitches. hee.
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ugh...so sick of my co-worker. she needs to take the stick out of her ass.
Being grateful is not something that all of us do every day. I certainly don't always remember to say thank you. But I know that I always remember when someone else does.
Remember that movie, 'Pay It Forward'? It starred the kid from the 6th Sense (Haley Osment) as a rough and tumble outcast with a stripper mom (Helen Hunt) and a thirst for finding meaning. Kevin Spacey played his disfigured teacher and I think Jon Bon Jovi, his dad. But the concept behind the movie, and inspiration for the title is thusfold.
1) You do a good deed for three separate people. It must be something fairly large, something that they cannot accomplish themselves. 2) They in turn, each do a good deed for someone else. You don't limit the number of people that they can help, but you do make it a minimum of three people OTHER than the one who did the good deed for them in the first place (hence the 'forward') 3) In return, the person that they have now helped, must help three more people. Asking nothing in return but for them to 'pass' the favor on.
Tonight, I dropped one of my ensemble members off at her place. She hugged me and she said as she was leaving the car, "I appreciate you." And I started to wonder who and why and where and when generosity starts in people. Why some people are more generous than others and how this gift comes about. I'll tell you when it happened to me.
I was about 9 years old, spending the ENTIRE summer hanging out in the office of my father's summer school where he was principal. Sometimes doing mundane tasks, but mostly drawing and goofing around. There was about two days where I discovered the daring thrill of calling 976 numbers, but that was pretty quickly squashed. There was the secretary to talk to and people coming and going. At the school, there was also a wonderful middle aged physical/ speech therapist, who was not married and childless. We took to each other like ducks to water. I found the mother figure (albeit, one who smoked like a chimney) I was craving, one who was interested in what I had to say and who was gentle, nurturing and funny. She found the child starving for affection. Her name, was and is, Ms. G. Grove.
She had white hair, in a shapely bob and glasses. A rough, hoarse voice and fancy nails. I remember her taking me down to the local deli to pick up sandwiches, she never ever wanted mayonnaise, but lots of mustard. And she bought me Martinelli's sparkling cider in the apple shaped bottle. I would help her organize her classroom, but then afterwards, could spend a couple of hours drawing with her fancy colored pens or answering her questions. And then there was the week, her niece, Seana came to visit. Seana was about a year older and a head taller than me, with braces - Ms. Grove thought we would be good company for one another.
On one of Seana's last days in San Francisco, Ms. Grove ended up taking us to the Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park. I had been there before with my dad, but this was different. This time, I was going with a friend. The exhibits seemed bigger, scarier, more interesting. Seana and I discovered things that I hadn't known before. Ms. Grove knew a lot about each of the different halls - or at least took the time to figure it out. We had lunch at the cafeteria and then Ms. Grove took us to, probably the favorite part of my day, THE GIFT SHOP (I swear I'm not Japanese)
She told us to get WHATEVER we wanted.
As a kid, I was often told that money was unavailable and that we couldn't afford lots of things. The things that one of my best friends was constantly receiving; Babysitter Club books, horse riding lessons, new shoes... I started to get nervous. Seana picked up little knicknacks, but I got very VERRRYYY quiet. Ms. Grove noticed and asked me what was wrong. I mentioned that my father had only given me a certain amount of money for the afternoon (enough to pay for lunch and probably admission) - and no money for presents. She hugged me close, looked me in the eye and said,
"Get whatever you want honey. Don't worry about it."
I picked out stickers, a cup and I also, distinctly remember getting gifts for my parents. Wrapping paper maybe. In the car, on the way back to the school, I sheepishly thanked Ms. Grove for her generosity. And she said,
"You girls, just remember this when you get older. And do it for someone else."
Those words, were simple. But the gesture was huge. And to this day, it is Ms. Grove's gift that makes me remember, that the actual present can be small, but it is the intention and the thought behind the gift that means the most. The things that people need, that they cannot do for themselves, that I can? That is my serving the world. Where I have, and others have not, I can give. She is my present, and now, I hope to return it to others. Whether it's buying someone a cup of hot chocolate or giving them a ride. Rest assured, you may not always remember otheres more talented or witty or smart. But the ones with the generous hearts are the ones who find a place in our minds.
Do you ever quantify your emotions? I mean, go beyond 'happy' or 'sad' or 'angry' and even beyond, 'morose' or 'indifferent', but
the pang of regret/sadness when you discover your favorite celebrity is dating a total douchebag or dating/married at all? Case in point: you have just sheepishly admitted to your total attraction to Josh Groban, once he moved past the Ally McBeal years only to discover that he once dated total hottie January Jones? (Betty Draper from MadMen). You crawl back into your hole with a pint of double fudge brownie and rue the day.
or the slight burst of karmatic glee you get from reading your jerkface ex's status on Facebook has gone from 'in a relationship' to 'single'. You can't allow yourself too much glee, as your own status is, 'it's complicated', but nevertheless...
or the insta-regret from hearing that the drummer from Blink 182 was in a plane accident that killed 4 other people and he is in the hospital with 1st and 2nd degree burns, because you remember that you used to watch his reality show when he was married to Miss America.
or the sweet sadness when you take your sweetie to a show or musical that you think will be life-changing for them; huge epiphanies! Fireworks! And then are let down to hear that the only thing really doing it for them is the music. Or is the sadder part, letting that be enough for you? Or sitting through the second act thinking, "Wow...they really don't get me. Will they ever get me?"
or the liberating goodness of realizing that there will always be loving people who love you and think that you will land on your feet. The people who praise you. Cherish the fact that you are working hard to do what you love. Don't trivialize or ridicule you or make you feel bad for doing what you do. That this is not the end.
