Posts Tagged ‘Queer As Folk’
Yes, it’s the anniversary. I remember what I was doing: walking two miles to work, thinking what a beautiful day, maybe I would go back to teaching, was making copies at the copy machine when the receptionist told me what happened. I pulled out a box of Godiva and offered it around the office as we watched TV, then I walked home with a colleague and said, “This is our JFK.” Sat home for a week, watching TV and crying a little, grateful to be mourning alone, grateful to have life, health, family. Grateful to talk with Dishmama and Dishbrother, pissed that Dishfather didn’t call to see if I was alive, but when we did talk he mentioned it would be less tragic if I had died rather than someone with more at stake, like a child or someone with family–true to some degree but how sh*tty to say to one’s child. That day did make some things very clear–Yes, I knew who loved me and who didn’t care at all. But most of all, it no longer mattered to me that I wasn’t married with children like many of my friends. I had myself and that was all I needed. I didn’t lose anyone, I did see the devastation from my office window, and it makes me cry to see TV coverage, but I don’t have a big story about what I experienced. Today, I’m staying as quiet as I can, not updating FB with my thoughts and prayers, not watching TV, and not wanting to delve into this except to remember how much I do love myself (it sounds bad, but you know what I mean) and will do all I can to make my life as good as possible. Maybe it’s time for a Julia/QAF/Sex and the City marathon.
I’ve been reading and highly recommend Noelle Hancock’s My Year with Eleanor, a memoir about facing fear and the wisdom of Eleanor Roosevelt. Also, The Psychopath Test, by Jon Ronson, which provides info on the obvious topic, along with a checklist and evidence of psychopaths all around us–especially in finance. Now Dish knows for sure she’s dodged at least three psychopaths.
A sad loss: Cliff Robertson has passed away at 88. Blessings on his coming and going. And of course, blessings on those souls who left us ten years ago.
And thank goodness, since this is where TG proposed marriage to me. We are now dying from excessive burrito consumption. Won’t think about the potential health violations that might have closed them down in the first place…
…instead, let’s focus on how Dish got the sh*t scared out of her two nights ago. TG had gone to sleep, so I plopped in Fertile Ground starring The L Word‘s Leisha Hailey and hunkalicious Queer As Folk veteran Gale Harold (i.e. my imaginary boyfriend from 2005-2009). Nothing about this story is extraordinary. She goes back into the house, into the basement, doesn’t run screaming from danger. And yet, it’s still scary. Leisha is a fantastic actress, growing leaps and bounds since that Yoplait commercial. Our Gale shows his range–from Brian Kinney to supportive husband/crazy a-hole. A nice diversion if you like creepy indies with no hope at the end.
Speaking of no hope, a bright light has gone out in the music world. Clarence Clemons died of a massive stroke, deeply saddening. At least he didn’t whizz away his talent: Amy Winehouse got booed for a horrific performance in Belgrade (it was *really* bad, as in Dish could have done a better job of singing). My precious Tone Loc was arrested allegedly for domestic violence. Now he’s dead to me. The Killing finale is tonight. Death, death, death.
Quel somber posting…Back to reading Virginia Woolf.