Showing posts with label American Dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Dreams. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

One



To the men and women who sacrificed their lives in every way imaginable to bring this moment to fruition, today we remember you, thank you, and promise to continue dedicating our lives until there exists a global community where all citizens, regardless of gender, sexuality, ethnicity, or religion, stand without the words "less than" footnoting their freedom.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Emancipate Your Muscle

               

Look for me on Dr. Oz next week, promoting my new Emancipation protein powder.

               

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Better Than Liz & Dick


My therapist says it's 2013 and I must live in the present, but I still hope J.Lo and Diddy will find their way back together.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

R.I.P Golden Boy

(His final PCH drive. Point Mugu, November 21, 2012)

On Tuesday, November 27, 2012, my 1998 Champagne Sebring convertible, known by many as The Golden Boy, took his last breath. Always having a flair for the dramatic, he decided to bow out in the left hand lane of the 10 freeway, a half mile west of the Staples Center, at 2:32pm. At least four thousand cars attended his brief wake, before the police booted him into skid row.

Ever the stalwart, The Golden Boy protected myself and the people I loved as we ventured to Key West, the Outter Banks, West Virginia, the West Village, Chicago, Sedona, Miami, Tucson, Vegas, San Francisco, and beyond to Stinson Beach. Because of him, I was able to experience so much beauty.

He and I shared many adventures. My favorite being the move out to Los Angeles in the summer of 2004, when I thought for sure he and I'd be abducted by aliens when we passed a ten story white cement cross lit up at three a.m., two hours outside Amarillo.

Like all romances, we had our troubles. When his trunk refused to stay ajar I had to warn everyone not to use it, fearing they'd be decapitated. Towards the end, he didn't like taking turns, or stopping, or retaining oil, or unlocking from the driver's side door. But he was my guy.

Made in Detroit (though God forbid I'd ever drive him there),

J.Ro


                            
                    (Cruising to Gaga on Mulholland Drive, December 2011)

(Overlooking Malibu on Christmas Day, 2007)


(Off to celebrate my Dad's 60th Birthday in Vegas, 2010)

(By The Lion King hyenas, Korea Town 2009)

(Jenny P driving him across the Golden Gate, 2010)

(With Ballse and Kitty Kat in Rancho Palos Verdes, 2010)

(Our final photo. Midas of Beverly Hills, December 1, 2012)

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

On The Street...UWS


My New York bound suitcase has been systematically packed with items that should finally land me on The Sartorialist.


Never did I imagine I'd seek fashion validation from a straight man.

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Idol Angst

Pardon my absence, I was too devastated by last week's Idol results to type.


Which is odd, being that I don't even watch the show.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Housesitter (Part 1)

Housesitting makes me reflect on all the things I don't have:

A dishwasher.

A sectional sofa.

A house.

Housesitter (Part 2)

This weekend I house sat for a friend.

                                                 

Movies make housesitting appear to be an opportunity to meet men. In reality, it's an opportunity to watch said films on a plasma HD.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Graffiti Greatness


Whenever I consider accepting my reality, Banksy inspires me to remain delusional.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Thursday, September 8, 2011

A Weighty Statement

At first I was shocked by J.Hud's proclamation.


But then I watched Dreamgirls and completely understood her point.