a girl's whose name begins and ends with "a"

'cuz i saw King Kong do a burlesque dance to Britney Spears.

ya, so let me back up. last wednesday, before class, i stopped by el casa of my favorite costa ricans on b-way, and the middle child beckons me over to the computer to check something out. it's a video of a woman breastfeeding her cat. it doesn't really shock me that much, just a little strange, especially cuz the cat is all cupping the breast with its paw, and it's for tv. they're trying to ply the cat away, but it's not going anywhere. i get to thinking it's a special bond between "mommy" and "baby" but it turns out that the cat's a bit of a whore, because it's shown just going around to suckle on anybody's teet. i'm not sure if the women were actually lactating or if they were paid big bucks to let this thing get some nipple action, but i thought it would be the weirdest shit i saw that week.

wrong. there's a giant camel at dadabase in the window. i gotta get me one of those main street for peace ts. the dinosaurs are roaming the city, i think as a promotional thing for storeum, and though i'll never go there, it was kinda neat to see the number 5 bus get caught up and held up by a stegasaurus (i'm paranoid that i'm spelling this wrong).

saturday nite, i go to the reel sista's film festival, catch some really great flicks (for further, check out www.ricepaperonline.com ) and the bonus show is Your Little Pony dancing to Britney's "Slave 4U" in a gorilla suit, pasties, and some satin boxer briefs (cuz i guess you can't get thongs gorilla sized) It was wildly tittilating and so burlesquey. whew.

thursday nite, i went to granville island's improv comedy nite of 'breaking news' and one of the stories they acted out was that of the silky haired lobster finding, so it was on my mind for the next couple of days. after talking my co-workers' and customers' ears off for a few days, i made my way to rice to get them to google it in the office, and it was an ugly mutha (shut your mouth!) damn. who would've thunk that they would've dug up an albino, silky haired lobster with no eyes at the bottom of the sea?

so, other than a lovely trip to richmond and a long week culminating in a "nap" that was intended for 15mins and ended up being 12 hours long, that's about all, except that i got approached for another web writing job and my baby's gonna be here in 6 days, 5 days his time now. on my way to Lick..belladonna awaits. www.sistahoodcelebration.com y'all!

that's got next.

after last week's noodle lunch with the father of the dancer that i interviewed for the (next) cover-yes, i got one by accident and now i'm gonna try my hardest to score the next one, i realized that things are changing.

with all the fabulous artists that i've come into contact with in the past few months and had the privilege to write about, there has been a common thread. we are a generation of artists, one that is hell bent on doing what makes us happy, not concerned by professions that offer security and pensions. is this really so wrong? it makes for much more present living, for ensuring that every day of your life is spent doing something fruitful, something where you give back, and that seems like it's all the retirement plan we need. gone are the days of waiting until you retire to do something you like.

has the world become so fast paced that we can no longer focus? we've grown up in a time when things are more open, possibilities stare you in the face, but they're not on a pedestal.more and more, we are seeing that we can achieve, not just believe and that doesn't necessarily have to work in a tandem relationship.

we are more flexible. we know that we're not going to get one job and work there for 30 years and it will all be good. we are not satisfied with even the idea of that. we are in need of constant stimulation and some of us know that it's up to us to find it and provide it so that it's always present.

we are much more responsible with our money because we don't know where it's coming from next. we learn to be humbled because just because you command a certain wage for one job it doesn't mean that it's guaranteed. at the same time, we take the shitty jobs because we know it's for a greater good. we relish in experiential knowledge because we know it's all valid. or, we're in a shitload of debt. either eIther, tomato toMAto.

the more things change, the more they stay the same, and while a generation gap will always provide for misunderstanding, the only thing constant is change, and i am blessed to know that my filial relationship are dynamic. our friends are there as a support system, and artists, like street people, are always willing to share everything they got. and love is, what i got. thank-you to every artist who has ever come into my life, in person, print, photo or archetype.

so, i'm here watching the oscars to see how brokeback will do, with my oldest husband, whom i also went to see the movie with. for a birthday fete, i had to make do with a handmade gift because the one i bought was stolen by the ghost in my apartment. i made the trek over the bridge to west vancouver, that road less travelled...and the jokes here are not really that funny (at the oscars that is). i think i'm finally gonna get my kebabs. just when you least expect things...

so, back to brokeback. i think my relationship with the impish angel is not going to be like that of them boys ("i wish i could quit you ennis del mar!") but that of the lopez and clooney in out of sight, such a sexxy film, i caught it again last nite when i agreed to babysit from 930-130 am, then went to work for 730am..ai-ya. it would have been ok, other than the kidney stone that passed through my eye..but i digress.

ok, so brokeback. i wish that the tender scenes of play didn't have to be interspaced and matched with an equal and stronger opposite scene of violence, and that i didn't have such a sinking feeling that the film is getting so much acclaim because the boys are gay for pay, and the content is such that is contained like the old lesbian pulp novels of the past where it's only ok because they all end with one of them dying or going back to their husbands. i'm not saying that any relationship (gay or otherwise) is all pie and roses (trust me, i'm living that right now) but dammit, does it have to be so tragic? if they win any awards tonite (we've come in at 7pm, and they're really milking everything so we haven't actually seen anything being awarded yet) will it be such a victory, or will it be like halle winning the oscar for writhing on her back with billy bob thorton..."make me feel good" makes a catchy pop culture reference for luda, but really, they could've just awarded it to her for her first role, vivian the crack ho in jungle fever, because that really wasn't that far removed. what about when denzel won it for being a crooked cop in training day (honestly, "king kong ain't got nutthin' on me?!") when he should have won a year before for the hurricane? oh the academy awards folks for fulfilling the same old race and gender stereotypes by having a fancy party and inviting jon stewart or chris rock to host and pat themselves on the back for being "progressive". ugh. gag me with a spoon.

gay boys playing straight, i guess bi on stage in vancouver? maybe, but not so sexxy if they only work out their upper body. if you're gonna get naked on stage, don't have a flabby bum. durien provided the passes to see a pretty forgettable performance, but i will say that there were some good actresses and while the men got physically naked, the women got emotionally naked.

ok. so i am apalled to the gills at the performance of "it's hard out here for a pimp" and the subsequent acceptance speech. i feel it truly epitomizes my above thoughts about the whole torrid affair.

the best part of the evening (with durien) was the fuzzy showering. oh, as a aside, last week i ate so many kumquats my mouth went numb, and i thought of that because above authored an autographing of his pamphlet with the chosen moniker for me "kumquat". anyways, there was something so masculine, so supportive in the way he reached over and put his arm around me, pulled me close and said, "hey baby, what's going on?" and how he cuddled with me during the play and held my hand. i so needed that. i probably didn't need the triple scoop gelati that day (chocolate/hazelnut/orange with plum and pearcheese) but it was pretty great. and he figured out how to use the handheld sewing machine too. the phone message from inside the shop and roger's ice cream excursion today were also very nice. it was pretty funny, because the sales associate was pretending to be deaf, but "we were belligerent".

anyways, where would i be without my fabulous gay gentleman? and why can't you get a decent horlicks anywhere in chinatown or up main street at 10:00 on a friday night?! ok, i guess you can at honolulu but we didn't get that far. all4now.