Happy Birthday, Dame Elizabeth

Dame Elizabeth Taylor, Feb. 27, 1932

I think it's pretty clear that I'm a little borderline obsessed with this lady. I guess that's probably my gayest quality. Anyway, Elizabeth Taylor turned 74 yesterday. She was born in London in 1932, but she and her parents, who were Americans, came back to the U.S. at the outbreak of World War II. They went to Los Angeles, where a family friend noticed Elizabeth's striking beauty and suggested they take her in for a screen test. The rest is history and here it is from IMDB:

Her test impressed executives at Universal Picturs enough to sign her to a contract. Her first foray onto the screen was in There's One Born Every Minute (1942), released when she was ten. Universal dropped her contract after that one film, but Elizabeth was soon picked up by MGM. The first production she made with that studio was Lassie Come Home (1943), and on the strength of that one film, MGM signed her for a full year. She had minuscule parts in her next two films, The White Cliffs of Dover (1944) and Jane Eyre (1944) (the former made while she was on loan to 20th Century-Fox). Then came the picture that made Elizabeth a star: MGM's National Velvet (1944). She played Velvet Brown opposite Mickey Rooney. The film was a smash hit, grossing over $4 million. Elizabeth now had a long-term contract with MGM and was its top child star. She made no films in 1945, but returned in 1946 in Courage of Lassie (1946). In 1947, when she was 15, she starred in Life with Father (1947) with such heavyweights as William Powell, Irene Dunne and Zasu Pitts. Throughout the rest of the 1940s and into the early 1950s Elizabeth appeared in film after film with mostly good results. Her busiest year was 1954, with roles in Rhapsody (1954), Beau Brummell (1954/I), The Last Time I Saw Paris (1954) and Elephant Walk (1954). She was 22 now, and even at that young age was considered one of the world's great beauties. In 1955 she appeared in the hit Giant (1956) with James Dean. Sadly, Dean never saw the release of the film, as he died in a car accident in 1955. The next year saw Elizabeth star in Raintree County (1957), an overblown epic made, partially, in Kentucky. Critics called it dry as dust. Despite the film's shortcomings, Elizabeth was nominated for an Academy Award for her portrayal of Southern belle Susanna Drake. However, on Oscar night the honor went to Joanne Woodward for The Three Faces of Eve (1957). In 1958 Elizabeth starred as Maggie Pollitt in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958). The film received rave reviews from the critics and Elizabeth was nominated again for an Academy Award for best actress, but this time she lost to Susan Hayward in I Want to Live! (1958). She was still a hot commodity in the film world, though. In 1959 she appeared in another mega-hit and received yet another Oscar nomination for Suddenly, Last Summer (1959). Once again, however, she lost out, this time to Simone Signoret for Room at the Top (1959). Her Oscar drought ended in 1960 when she brought home the coveted statue for her flawless performance in BUtterfield 8 (1960) as Gloria Wandrous, a call girl who is involved with a married man and later dies in an auto accident. Some critics blasted the movie but they couldn't ignore her performance. There were no more films for Elizabeth for three years. She left MGM after her contract ran out, but would do projects for the studio later down the road. In 1963 she starred in Cleopatra (1963), which was one of the most expensive productions up to that time--as was her salary, a whopping $1,000,000. This was the film where she met her future and fifth husband, Richard Burton (the previous four were Conrad Hilton, Michael Wilding, Michael Todd--who died in a plane crash--and Eddie Fisher). Her next handful of films were lackluster at best, especially 1963's The V.I.P.s (1963), which was shredded by most critics. Elizabeth was to return to fine form, however, with the role of Martha in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966). Her performance as the loudmouthed, shrewish, unkempt Martha was easily her finest to date. For this she would win her second Oscar and one that was more than well-deserved, but her films afterward didn't approach the intensity of that one. Since then she has appeared in several movies, both theatrical and made-for-television, and a number of TV programs. In February 1997 Elizabeth entered the hospital for the removal of a brain tumor. The operation was successful. As for her private life, she divorced Burton in 1974, only to remarry him in 1975 and divorce him, permanently, in 1976. She has had two husbands since, Senator John Warner and Larry Fortensky.


Happy Birthday, Elizabeth!

Your mutha slept with men...for money...

Absolutely nothing is new. Not one damn thing.

I met a cool guy at The 19 Bar a couple Fridays ago and purposely didn't mention him on here for fear of jinxing it. We got along really well from the get-go (I demanded he light my cigarette) and both of us just kind of "dug" each other.

I need to quit sleeping with guys I like right after the bat. Well, we basically just fooled around. In fact, we went back to his apartment and sat around for a while. Then I went to use the baffroom and when I got out he was standing there kinda smiling. He pushed me (not violently...really...) into his room...you can imagine the rest.

He's 32 and grew up in my college town, Winona, which is only about 30,000 people. So we even had that in common - knowing all about Winona landmarks, etc.

On Saturday he and his roommate had to run errands for out-of-town visitors who'd be arriving soon, but he asked me twice if I would call him that Monday. I stupidly called him at 2 a.m. that night and left a quick voicemail just to say hi and ask if they had fun that night.

I called and left a voicemail that Monday (the night before Valentines Day) and haven't heard from him since.

Fucker.

I need to start hanging out a different bar. I'm thinking maybe one that's called BOOM. It's known for being the hangout for more "well-to-do" 30-something Minneapolis gays. Yeah...that's the ticket.

Danny and I went to see Brokeback Mountain last Saturday night. All I can say is that it's good, but depressing as hell...very sombre and gray throughout most of it. Danny and I exited the theatre and exclaimed, "I need a drink..." I proceeded to have about 8 thousand martinis. We went to a bar/restaurant called Azia and I met these two awesome girls. Yeah...apparently they were f'ing long lost best friends because I paid their $200 tab!!! God, I'm a reject...

Have a good weekend. I'm watching North & South Discs 2 & 3 from Netflix and sipping some Mint Juleps. I need me some good ol' Southern hospitality circa 1860!

I wonder what Ory Maine and Madeline will be up to this time!!


My favorite is Ory's little sister, Ashton, that bitch...

Back in Black Tuesday

It's the most wonderful day of the year. My beloved Valentines Day!! Or as I like to call it (this year, anyway), Black Tuesday. The day when those of you who are in love celebrate! I'm happy for those of you are are (honestly), but I don't really get it. I don't think I've really ever been in love. Not the kind that's reciprocated, anyway. I was very fond of my ex-boyfriend of 2.5 years, but I don't think I really loved him in a "grown up" kinda way. If we got back together now, I think I could feel that and would definitely appreciate him much more. But oh well. We broke up in 2001 and he's been w/ "new" boyfriend since 2002, plus he lives more than 2 hours away, so the chances of that happening are slim-to-no chance in hell.

In honor of Valentines Day, a brief recap of my failed attempts at relationships since the ex and I broke up:

I played a lot for the months proceeding the breakup.

In early 2002, during Valentine's Day, actually, I was "seeing" this guy named Chad, whom I pretty much went Glenn Close over. I was totally infatuated with him and was picking out china patterns during every trip to Marshall Fields...and he was commenting on every cute young guy who walked by. He was a small town kinda guy with a butch job (landscaper/lawn sprayer). He is/was 7 years older than I and really cute. He reminded me of Scott Wolf from Party of Five and somewhat like a young Ed Harris. But, of course, I made the drastic mistake of letting it be known that I really liked him, so that didn't...really...work...out. Throughout that spring & summer, however, he did take every chance he could to accost me at parties and practically rip my clothes off in front of the other guests. All I can say is God bless the vodka and Mt. Dew mixtures that he was so fond of...

In the spring of 2002, I was "seeing" a younger guy. Very pretty. Very flirtatious. He actually made out with an acquaintance of mine while we were at the bar together. He also got a phone number from the biggest little man whore in town. In front of me. His excuse, "Well, we're not really together...just hanging out." He proceeded to sleep with both of them. But, he was pretty hot, so I kept my mouth shut. I randomly met three guys from all over the tri-state area who knew of this kid and had slept with him. Seriously. Didn't take long to get over that joker. I still see him out from time-to-time and we cordially talk.

Summer of 2002, I dated a Go-Go Boy who danced at Minneapolis' Gay '90s. He had just exited the Navy and was 20 (I was 24). He was always broke and I paid for everything. He took me out to eat and for drinks once. Later that evening he told me how he got the money. Yeah, some regular customer paid him and another Go-Go Boy to have sex while this customer watched and paid them each $2500. That was pretty much the end of that. Good pick, Kiddo...Real classy guy you found that time.

Late Fall of 2002/beginning of 2003, I had moved back to my college town of Winona and started to date a cute, funny guy from nearby La Crosse, Wis. He was a year older than I and we'd known of each other since college days, but never really met. We actually really liked each other and he pretty much moved in with me from Day 1. Then he lost his job and went kinda nuts. Couldn't find a job in Winona, so he moved back to La Crosse one day while I was at work. I'm still not really sure what happened there...The next guy he dated after me sure was ugly...and didn't charge any rent.

Spring/Summer of 2003, I met my friend Meg's cousin and we started to date. I was 25 and he was 21 and still in college - living about an hour away. Very cute, very nice guy. He came to Winona pretty much every weekend and he had roommates, so I never wanted to go visit him. This got a little old for him, so we pretty much just stopped seeing each other. I kinda screwed that one up.

Since then, I've gone on random dates with guys and hung out for a few weeks. I've developed new crushes, but nothing really lasted past a couple weeks. Some are now friends. Funny, I moved to Minneapolis in late 2004 to expand my dating pool and it seems to have shrunk. Oh well.

My real plans for tonight are:
1. Leave work
2. Visit Marshall Field's V-day displays. Kick a few over and tromp through them.
3. Do my cardio at the gym
4. Take skanky bus home with other jagoffs
5. Do about 235 loads of laundry
6. Eat a Lean Cuisine meal
7. Maybe do a little vaccuuming
8. Watch an episode or two of Mary Tyler Moore
9. Watch an episode or two of Sex and the City
10. I just decided to stop for a bottle of Captain before home

My fantasy plans:
1. Be picked up from work in a limo
2. Be greeted by my new hot boyfriend, Olymic Speed Skater Chad Hedrick
3. Dinner and cocktails at a nice restaurant (I'm not picky)
4. Private jet to Italy
5. A fun night in the hotel
6. Watch as he wins tons of gold medals and the camera always cuts to me in the crowd, cheering enthusiastically for my loyal new boyfriend who's infatuated with me

**Sigh** A boy can dream can't he?!?

Oh well. I'm usually pretty fine with being single. Gets a little old sometimes, though. Better luck next year!!


My Chad...god he's hot...thanks to ChipChat for letting me discover him

Take That, Breeders!!

This was on OUT.Com and I couldn't help myself. Found it kinda funny - Seven Reasons Why We (Gays) Are Better Than You (Straights):

1) When we have kids it’s because we really want them.
Goodness knows we all hear about those silly “breeders” who practice unsafe sex and then get a “surprise” one day. Gay people don’t have it so easy. When we want to have children there’s always a third party (be it a test-tube, a surrogate, an adoption agency, etc.), adding to the already great challenge of deciding to become a mother or a father. We’re not saying it makes us better parents, but… OK, that’s what we’re saying.

2) We have better style.
If we didn’t, would there have been a Queer Eye for the Straight Guy? We think not. And given that most celebrated male fashion designers bat for our team, we rest our case.

3) We set the trends.
How else can you explain us wearing $500 designer jeans years before they were popular? And where would metrosexuality be if we hadn’t been getting ourselves plucked and waxed for eons? These may not be good things, but still, we were there first.

4) We take better care of ourselves.
You know you walked into your 10-year high school reunion with more hair, fewer wrinkles, less fat, and better fashion than any other guy in your class. Be proud.

5) When it comes to partying, we do it up right.
Every straight gal pal of yours (and some of your hetero guy friends too) tells you they have more fun at a gay club than they do at a straight club. And naturally most of the hottest party planners are queer. It’s because we’re more fun. No really, we are.

6) We are devoted.
Be good to us, we’ll be good to you. No matter the generation, we stick with our divas (see Judy, Barbra, Bette, Madonna). And, hey, we’re brand loyal too!

7) Watch out for our wit.
Growing up as outsiders (to one degree or another) forces us to be verbally fast on our feet. So be nice, or a cutting remark will slice you down to size.


*****
I think #7 is especially true for me...yeah, that's one to be proud of...

I've been a bad boy...

Good thing it's not Christmastime because Santa would certainly be putting little checks by name. I 'been bad lately!

It all started last weekend. I was actually pretty good on Friday, but then Danny and I went to an after-bar at some dude's condo. Danny said something that apparently angered me because I did my famous move. That's right, folks, I slapped him. Hard. Then some old Bear guy pushed me down for slapping Danny (NOTE: for you non-gays, a Bear is a term for an older, hairy gay dude) . I laughed. All was fine after that. I think I made out with the owner of the condo. He's at least 45...So, yeah...Good one.

Saturday, Danny and I left the condo at about noon and proceeded to a bar in Uptown called The C.C. Club. Danny and Jeff have been kicked out of there before. It's all vague to me, but we got kicked out. I think it was Danny's fault to be honest. He can get really loud when he's drunk. In response to being kicked out, I slammed my glass on the floor and smashed it good. We gathered our coats and stumbled out of there victoriously.

We went to a liquor store and picked up a case of beer. Proceeded to my apartment (that's in desperate need of a good scrubbing) and watched Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? for the 8 millionith time. E. Taylor has such good one-liners in that picture show. Apparently a little of Martha (E. Taylor) was implanted in my brain. More on that later.

Danny fell asleep on the couch and I began to watch Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with E. Taylor and a hot 1958 Paul Newman. I fell asleep in the chair. My friend from high school, Jamie, called and said she was downtown at a new Mexican restaurant/bar called MASA. I agreed to meet her. I was obliterated by this point, but managed to pull myself together enough to walk to the bus stop. This is at about 8:00. I sat there with Jamie and her friend as they drank Cosmos and I guzzled water and tried not to slide out of the bar stool.

SIDENOTE:
I started to tell them that a bartender down the street at the News Room Restaurant/Bar was in the movie Drop Dead Gorgeous and he was also the bartender at my favorite college bar in Winona, Bullseye. Everyone called him Otter then, but I don't know his real name. Anyway, If you know the movie Drop Dead Gorgeous, he's the bartender at the end who makes out with Loretta (Allison Janney) after he catches an olive in his mouth. He's really cute.


The News Room - Nicollet Ave - Minneapolis

So, we trot down the street to the News Room. Otter wasn't working, but oddly enough, happened to be there as a patron. We waved. He's still cute. I've talked to him once since college - he said he remembered me coming in to Bullseye a lot back then. Great -- bartenders remember me. I had had quite enough of water and decided to order a great big martini. Bad mistake. That's pretty much the last thing I remember about the evening.

The rest is all hear-say.

Apparently some guy sat next to Jamie, her friend and me at the bar and kept looking at us.
Kiddo: What're *you* lookin' at??
Guy: I dunno.
Kiddo: Well, who the hell are *you?*
Guy: I dunno.
Kiddo: Yeah?? Well, I do. You're a NOBODY!!!! Ya hear me? A NOBODY!!

Shortly thereafter, Jamie and friend were leaving and I said, "I'm staying right here. Now order me a drink!"

Jamie said I did agree to leave with them and I caught a cab. But did I take it home? Oh no. I felt the need to go to The 19 Bar by my house. Danny had since woken up and went there to find me. He was with my friend/neighbor, Mike.

Apparently I sat at the bar and yelled at anyone who walked by. The bartenders were like, "Kiddo...knock it off..." And I said, "Ahhhh....leave me alone ya bastards..." Danny went outside to smoke and some guy came up to him and said, "That friend of yours is really *angry*..."

I left on my own accord and walked home. I fell down three times. I remember laying in the snow and being terrified that I wouldn't be able to wake up and I'd freeze to death. Luckily I somehow managed to get to the apartment and fit the key in the door. It's a miracle.

WHAT A DUMBASS!!!! Ughh....no more drinking all day and mixing beer with martinis. Not good at all....

So then Tuesday I was running late and got to work 20 minutes late. Not good either.

Wednesday night I got a call from Danny at 2:30 a.m. slurring that he was at The 19 Bar and was coming over to drink beer and talk. I told him he woke me up and to take a cab. He said, "I hate you, you F#cker..." He proceeded to keep calling & calling. Then I awoke to my door buzzer incessantly ringing. I finally let him in and told him to crash on the couch - that I was going to bed and had to work in the morning. The first thing he did was to come in my room and think we were going to chat. I told him to get the hell out. After telling him that a few more times, he stumbled to the refridgerator, grabbed 5 beers and walked out the door. I got up, told him to get the hell back in the apartment and crash on the couch. This happened three times. The third time, I grabbed the beer from him, pushed him and said, "Fine - getting a f#cking DUI then, idiot..." slammed and locked the door. He kept knocking and knocking and yelling, "Kiiiiidoooo!" Hoping he hadn't woken any neighbors, I let him back in and *screamed* at him to stay the f#ck out of my room and crashing on the goddamn couch. A few minutes later, I heard him rustling through the fridge again and walk out the door. I waited a few minutes, then called him:
Kiddo: You just came over here b/c you knew I had beer, you f#cker. You didn't need a place to crash your drunk ass. Ya know what?? Lose my number and lose it for good. Also, have fun in jail because I'm...calling...the...f#ckiinggggg....COPS!!!!!!!"

I haven't talked to him since. I don't really care to.

Went to The 19 Bar last night with a new friend of mine, Greg, who's a Michigan native and 27. He's cute, but really would rather just be friends. The 19 Bar was kinda boring (I was thinking maybe they wouldn't let me in, but they did...), so we went to The Bolt. We went back to my house and talked for a long time. I even pulled out the ol' h.s. yearbooks....lord....then we made out.

I overslept for work today and my boss was mad. He made fun of me for it this afternoon, though.

I'm so going to hell. Or the Betty Ford Center. First, I'm meeting an old co-worker at a bar for happy hour.

As Dolly Parton sings, "Here you come again...."

Glimpses of college days

They say the older you get, the more quickly time goes by. I have started to find that to be true.

As my college years become increasingly distant, I constantly find myself longing to experience that time in life again. A song will come on the radio. The smell of a certain food, cigarette, cologne, store - even air freshener, soap or shampoo - will suddenly take me back to a place in time somewhere between fall 1996 and spring 2000. And for a moment, I'm there again.

Granted, it wasn't that long ago, but life has changed tremendously since then. It's odd that I don't experience the same with high school years, nor for my first years out of college...all-together enjoyable years as well.

A song came on the radio this morning as I hustled about preparing for the day. I don't even remember which song it was. My thoughts suddenly raced back to May 1999...finishing my junior year...enjoying the warm weather outside a crumbling Victorian/college apartment house with a few friends; sitting on a ratty old couch someone's parents had given them; smoking Marlboro Lights; drinking cans of Miller Lite and listening to that pathetic "Yesterday's Hits and Today's Favorites" radio station in Winona.

At that moment, wearing a navy blue American Eagle T-shirt, khaki cargos and fisherman sandals, I remember thinking that we were lucky to be 21, in college and with friends on a beautiful Saturday afternoon...

I suppose someday I will long for it to be 2006 again. Maybe.


A typical Winona college house we would have partied at...

Here's some money for dropping out...

This was from the AP this morning:

WASHINGTON - If President Bush gets his way, the venerable $255 Social Security death benefit will fade into history. And 16- and 17-year-old high school dropouts will lose their monthly survivor payments.

Oh, CRY, you poor little dropouts.

Here's a solution. STAY IN SCHOOL, dipshits.

I can't believe they even get a SS check each month as a reward for dropping out.

DUH.

Oh, and as a former Mass Communication: Journalism student myself, an objective account would have read (somewhere in the beginning of the story, but certainly not first paragraph):

...President Bush's revised Social Security plan calls for elimination of a $255 death burial benefit that was established in 1939 and revised in 1952. Also eliminated will be monthly payments to 16- and 17-year-old high school dropouts.

Stupid liberally-biased media. Make it sound like he's cutting huge death benefits. Journalism is, by nature, supposed to be fact-based with no hint of the reporter's own feelings on the subject...During college media studies courses, the only source I remember illustrating objectivity was the BBC...

Oh well. Never going to change.

What happened to e-Brechi?

Since my blogging hiatus, I see that my fellow Log Cabin Republican, e-Brechi, has vanished. Or moved to Switzerland. Wha' happened?!

In case I mysteriously disappear...

I'm being stalked by a helicopter pilot. Normally this sort of thing might be welcomed by me, but not when he's still in the helicopter and he repeatedly flies by my office window.

Did I somehow get on that list of people to spy on by the President?? I'm probably unknowingly recruiting a member of Al-Qaeda for one of my clients' open jobs...Great. Just great.

The least he could do is wave while he soars by. I'm taking the skyways to the gym this evening in an effort to avoid sniper shots.

Wish me luck.

I need a moment...

Sorry, but I really need to vent or I'm going to choke someone.

Am working on this tough job requirement one of my clients has and finally find someone who has their resume online with all the skills. Of course it's someone came here to work from India, since apparently all those Americans with Computer Science degrees take jobs outside the field (seriously, if there's a really technical job opening, the only qualified candidates are foreign nationals...).

Anyway - I'm thrilled because I see this guy has worked in the Midwest (our neighbor Wisconsin, even!) and usually you find people who live in California or New Jersey for these tough jobs. So I call him up and guess what? He says Minneapolis is too cold, but Milwaukee isn't. Ummm....Milwaukee is just a few hours southeast of Minneapolis. I try to explain to him that Minneapolis is in the southern part of Minnesota and therefore our weather is really more like Chicago's - a few degrees difference, usually, but feels the same. I even tell him that I've lived in both cities and there really isn't a noticeable difference. He refuses to believe me. He keeps saying, "I work in Chicago or Milwaukee, but Minneapolis too cold..."

I finally said, "you're ignorant" and hung up.

GOD-AHHHH!!!

That is such a HUGE pet-peeve of mine!!

Tomorrow's forecast for Minneapolis is 39. Milwaukee is 41. I should email that to him just to prove my point.

I can't say it enough -- it's not winter here all year long! People are so ignorant.


GASP! Summer in Minnesota?!?!