the sweetest tongue

Update in progress

Wednesday, January 11th, 2006 | faggy tendencies | 2 Comments

New update coming soon. Finally moving things over to Wordpress from Movable Type, after learning PHP and looking at my needs.

Included with it will be my end of year review.

See you soon!

Getting in Touch With My Inner Asian

Friday, January 6th, 2006 | faggy tendencies | No Comments

Sometimes, I consider myself a very un-Asian Asian. When the Princess rattles on in her native tongue, I can only get bits and pieces. While watching a Hong Kong film, I am fully dependent on the subtitles near the bottom of the screen. I cook Italian, and without my claim to living in Singapore, I could be considered a 100% ABC (American Born Chinese). But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, thank you very much. There’s some pride in that too.

But last night I learned how to play Mahjong for the first time. There is something about learning a game I used to watch my father play when I was growing up. We used to go in a big room hidden in a back of a Chinese restaurant in Puerto Rico, where all these Chinese men would be playing Mahjong together. He would stay for hours, and would give me pocket money to go with someone to a convenience store down the street to buy candy. I always bought Ring Pops.

The Princess brought over her Mahjong table last night, and he and Spencer began to teach me how to play. After a few gaffes, I think I got the hang of it, and while I’m no pro, I think I caught onto the game pretty quick. We played and gossiped till 2am in the morning (it’s surprising how quickly time flys by!), and I felt so much better about myself.

“A sandwich to a Jew is just as important as a country to a Gentile.” - New York Times

New Year’s Eve Weekend in Retrospection

Wednesday, January 4th, 2006 | faggy tendencies | No Comments

The craziness of the past weekend is behind me now, and all I want to do nowadays is to forget it ever happened. I make sure the doors are locked everytime someone leaves or enters the house, the smallest strange sounds make me paranoid, and I look around everytime I leave my house.

Such is the aftermath for a already paranoid person.

But he weekend has its own positives. The dinner party was a success, and I managed to add two more people to the list with no problem. Except for the zucchinni and mushrooms that were put in the oven for too long, the pasta salad, roasted chicken thigh drumsticks, and the roasted potatoes were a hit. The Princess served the champagne, since I served the thai tea with milk. I was happy having Joey, Michael and Tony over.

After dessert was served, the fags and I (Minus the Princess and Joey) went to Blake’s to ring in the New Year. It was packed, but not as bad as WetBar, where the line went around the block. After the clock chimed, I made out with Ray as someone stuck a tiara on my head.

I took a cab home, where I made sure all doors were locked and I turned on the music in the kitchen as I stayed up online. I gladly retired to bed by early morning.

All I have say is, those gaysians from Friday night had better not show their faces in Atlanta Gay life again, because all I need to do is go to the heretic on Saturday night, find them, and sit on them till the police come.

I’m Such a Fag. (part 2)

Monday, January 2nd, 2006 | faggy tendencies | 4 Comments

I’m sorry about the cliffhanger, but someone came knocking on my door, and I had to go check on gentlemen callers.

Back to the story….

I was walking around the living room and kitchen surveying the area, when I heard a noise from the bathroom. I went up to the door, and asked who was there. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. The first thought I had was that Scott, the roommate who was moving out, had collapsed while in the process of moving. He had been hospitalized before due to his blood sugar (he is diabetic), so I grabbed the skeleton key, and tried to open the door.

When the door kept locking itself after I tried to unlock it, I called for the Princess to come upstairs as I tried to force the door open. When I finally managed to get it unlocked and open, I saw that it was two individuals behind the door trying to keep it closed. They kept saying “We’re playing a trick on you! We’re playing a trick on you!” As they tried to keep the door closed. I managed to push myself into the bathroom, and a minor scuffle ensued inside. I managed to turn the light on for a few seconds, and recognized them as two gaysian individuals, which really threw me off, and just confused me more.

I had gaysian intruders at my house!

After they managed to calm me down since at one point I had my hands on both their necks, and we all got out of the bathroom, so they could explain themselves. They sketchily explained that they came to the house to look for Scott, the roommate who moved out, because he owed them a lot of money. Someone told them that Scott would be in the house at this time. When asked how they got in (there was no forced entry), they said that the door was unlocked, and that they were there for only a short time.

The whole time, I was aware that they were slowly trying to inch their way towards the stairs, so I blocked them. I was already stressed out about the dinner party, and having these intruders already started to frazzle my mind and logic. I tried to contact Scott, and found that the number he provided me was a wrong number. The story got sketchier in my head. I was freaking out at this point.

In the process of trying to extract their copy of Scott’s number, I wanted one of them to bring me to their car. Not being in the most clear-thinking state of mind, I thought nothing of having them both follow me downstairs, where once the door was open, they both bolted in opposite directions. I chased one of them towards the open (!) gates, and as he outran me, I saw a car (bronze-cream compact car) being driven by the other person coming towards me. I managed to get aside, and the car only hit my arm, but they got away, and it was too dark to make out their license plate number.

At this point, I was at the end of my rope as I managed to contact the police. I was freaking out as I gave them my address and situation, and by the time I got back home, I was already on the verge of tears.

The police came. We filed a report. I called Spencer in Las Vegas, and The Princess kept everything under control and kept a clear mind when I could not. He kept me company overnight, and helped me change the locks the next day.

I cried that night not just because I just had something weird, strange, and almost deadly happen to me, but also because I had a dinner party in less than 24 hours, and I needed a clear mind to plan and prepare. And that, my friends, is why I’m such a fag.

I’m Such a Fag. (part 1)

Sunday, January 1st, 2006 | faggy tendencies | 1 Comment

The last time I cried was when the Princess tried to end our friendship. And before that, when Joey decided not to go date me anymore. And well, there was this one time at work where I got so stressed and frustrated that I found a corner and wept as I found my center. I stood up after a good cry, wiped my tears away with my fingers, and went out into the world again with my head held high. if I had mascara on, maybe I would have had a more dramatic effect.

Last night I cried because I almost had to cancel a dinner party I was hosting. Well, that wasn’t the literal reason, but I have a punchline to all of this.

I had planned to have a little dinner party at my place New Year’s Eve. (Now, two things give me great satisfaction. Cooking for others, and sex. Sharing gossip ranks near there, but it’s comparable to meditation in it being a state of mind.) The Princess and I went out on Friday night, stopping by the Dekalb Farmer’s Market in Decatur and picking up some fresh meat, fruits, and pasta. We then went to watch Brokeback Mountain, and then also stopped by Kroger to buy some more groceries.

When I got home after 2 in the morning, I found the door unlocked. Now, one roommate had moved out a few nights ago, and the other roommate was in Las Vegas, so the first thing I thought was that the old roommate had left the place unlocked while he was in the process of moving out (he still had the key). So the princess and I lugged all of the groceries in, while I went upstairs to make sure everything was ok.

My laptop was unplugged, some tables and the bar was gone, and there was a bag of frozen foods from the fridge next to the stairs.

i then heard some sounds from the bathroom.

To a Joyous New Year

Friday, December 30th, 2005 | faggy tendencies | No Comments

It’s that time of year again. That weird interim time (lol, I said “rim”) between Christmas and the New Year. It’s the time to think about what resolutions to have during the New Year, and what direction to take once the clock strikes 12.

When I was younger, I used to romanticize the idea of the new year. Maybe it was the fact that my mother insisted on all of the superstitions of the new year, like new clothes and new bedding and towels etc. Personally, I used to use the new year as an excuse to experiment with different directions in personal style and dress. Dare I remember the grunge flannel year? Or the one where I decided to actually care about how I looked, and went all out on the “preppy” look? Thank God no pictures are on hand right now.

Which reminds me, this time of year is also the one-year anniversary of me leaving home. It was actually the day after Christmas, actually, and I spent this same week last year working non-stop at the Store. I stayed sporadic nights with Alex and Michael, and I spent my New year’s Eve at Michael’s, with only the few clothes I bought and my laptop, and stayed in and slept while everyone went out.

This year, the Princess and I are planning a little get together/dinner party at my place. I’m thinking appetizers of bruschetta, and cheese. Maybe a main course of cornish hens, something vegetarian, a pasta salad, and roasted potatoes.After everyone is stuffed, we can head out for a drink and count down the end of the year.

Dare I say? I am more fabulous and happier now than I was a year ago.

Happy Holidays

Sunday, December 25th, 2005 | Artwork, faggy tendencies | No Comments

Weekend

Monday, December 19th, 2005 | faggy tendencies | 3 Comments

Did the closest thing to bar-hopping on Saturday night with the Princess. He picked me up at Blake’s, we then proceeded to go to Oscar’s (Alfredo from The Other O wasn’t there, sadly.) We then went to Burkhart’s, saw Mary Edith Pitts for the first time in all her glory. I met her male alter-ego weeks earlier. Trashtastic! We went into Felix’s, but left because it seemed like they were closing. Veered away from the Eagle as somehow we felt oddly overdressed as we saw the guy in chaps standing outside the place.

Maybe next week I’ll bring my harness. Someone want to get me some chaps for XMas?

Gifts, gifts, gifts. Baked a caramel pecan pie last night, and spent over a hundred dolalrs at the gay Kroger at Ansley. Pies make a good, sweet, and thoughtful gift. Diabetics beware. I add 3/4 a cup of sugar to each pie.

Here’s a poem:

Potato Queen

I wonder
What other Gaysians think
When they see me
With this Anglo boyfriend of
German Jewish descent.

Do they think
Potato Queen!
Traitor!
Geisha boy!
Chinkslut!

Or do they secretly envy me?

Sticky Rice

We’re like sisters.
Sisters of the Gaysian Sisterhood.

I’m No Ma’am.

Thursday, December 15th, 2005 | faggy tendencies | 1 Comment

While still living in Puerto Rico, my brother somehow developed a Southern quirk of speech: y’all. This was before he ended going to school in Atlanta at Georgia Tech, and I just attributed to him exhibiting some sort of Southern identitiy, being that we were born in Knoxville, Tennessee, and all. Ignore the fact that we haven’t been back there in 17 years.

I developed a Southern quirk of my own: Ma’am. It was Madam, with the “d” being silent and I used it to adress any adult lady that I wanted to get the attention of. I have no idea how I acquired it, maybe from watching too many cartoons as a kid, or maybe it is a subconscious reflection of soem sort of romanticization of ther South. You can imagine Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn saying it, and in episodes of Little House on the Prairie. Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz used Ma’am. it just seemed so proper, somehow.

I was called ma’am twice yesterday, one in person 9she corrected herself), and one other time on the phone (I spelt out my name to her, and i think audibly gruffened up my voice).

Until i put on the wig, dress, and platform shoes, don’t call my ma’am, please.

‘Twas Monday.

Tuesday, December 13th, 2005 | faggy tendencies | 1 Comment

Girl, I cannot STRESS just how good doing your hair feels! I am amazed everytime when I am feeling tired or emotionally sapped, just how much a few minutes in front of the mirror and a small jar of hair gel can really get your spirits up and running!

I was late for work today, the first time since I got promoted, after spending a good night obsessing over the launch of the blog backend of the Alliance website. I did not get a chance to do my hair, and so I felt just plain unmotivated the whole day. When I got off work, though, I put some gel in my hair, stood in front of the mirror, and after a minute or two, I was positive beaming. I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s the apple-scent of the Garnier Fructis.

Btw, the Alliance up and running now. I decided to forgo MovableType this time and try out Wordpress.  After a few months of slowly trying to figure  out PHP and making things work, I have to say that I am beginning to like Wordpress. What? Sacrilege! The fact is, both Wordpress and Movabletype have their own strengths, and requirements. I’ll see how my little experiment pans out.

The roommate had a little gaysian dinner party at our place Saturday night. I fussed over the choice of hors d’oeuvres and main courses, while he stocked the bar. In the end, there was more than enough food for everyone, as some queens attempted to be domestic, while others did their best to make up for their lack of domestic skills by purchasing wine or Chinese take-out. The highlight of the night was the Secret Santa gift-giving, which yielded as its tamest gift a Starbucks giftcard, and its naughtiest a vibrating buttplug.

I was not surprised.

Good night.