Neon Yarn

Hey all!
I have just updated www.angelcitysdevil.com with a little movie i made at a recent oscar party in hollywood. the movie features shots of me and my guy, jennifer hudson, jenna elfman, jeremy sisto, beck....

check it out!!!

www.angelcitysdevil.com

is a new, hilarious blog posted on www.AngelCitysDevil.com

Check it out!!

-jonathan

hey everybody-

thanks for reading my few entries here at livejournal. I appreciate all the feedback and comments. Lately I haven't been updating the journal, but I have been blogging at a new and permanent address. Please follow me over there. It's worth it, I promise!

www.angelcitysdevil.com

Drag Queen performances are hilariously entertaining no matter which urban gay ghetto you are in. They love making fun of shit, so their humor is often at the expense of those in the audience. Kansas City, L.A. - there is no difference. This is why when we decided to catch a drag performance in KC, I demanded that we didn't sit in the front row of tables.

"They're not going to say anything to you." Justin chuckled while gesturing me into a stage-side chair.

I answered, "Of course they are. They're all bitches." I brushed him briskly as I headed toward the furthest table.

"You're so shy!"

"Yeah. I know. That's why I wanna sit in the back, Justin."

We threw our jackets on the tabletop and I took a seat. Without missing a beat, Justin walked away from the table.

"Be right back. Bar."

He turned his head back to me and smiled without stopping his B-line towards booze. I realized I was rolling my eyes. That must annoy Justin.

I decide to play with my Helio while Justin orders and Darren is in the bathroom. Darren is my cousin and has been a friend since birth. I always enjoy our time together, and thoroughly love how open-minded he is. Though not a full-fledged metrosexual, Darren is definitely a bi-metrosexual. His emotions and demeanor could easily pass for pansy while his style and voracious appetite for pretty girls are unmistakedly and boringly straight. He's roughly 6'3 (same as Justin), skinny and fare-skinned. He has a baby face, I think it runs in the family. He wears baggy pants with smaller fitting shirts - very straight Midwestern guy. And the odd thing is, he wears glasses despite having received Lasik eye surgery a few years back (if I had a doctor utilize a laser to cut off part of my eyeball, I wouldn't mind it if the sci-fi sounding procedure worked). I thought it was very cool for Darren to join Justin and I out at the gay bar, and anxiously waited for him to get back to the table.

Flo (host of The Flo Show, which we were watching) came on stage in her trademark red beehive wig. Her makeup was 60's housewife and her voice was pure menthol. Justn and Darren joined the table as Flo began her act.

"I'm having a great night." She immediately sounded high. "We are going to have a great show and you faggots are going to love it."

I nervously giggled and darted my eyes back and forth in the room. I sensed something bad.

Then I heard Justin scream.

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh"!

The spotlight left Flo and immediately lit up Justin. I instantly turned red, either from the spotlight's heat or embarrassment.

"What's your name?" she demanded.

"Justin. What's yours?"

I could tell he was atleast a little buzzed.

"Where are you from sweetie?" She asked with a slight drawl, something sounding in between Southern and Bitch.

Justin screamed "L.A.! Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" and corked his arm in the air.

"Woah honey you're a little much." Flo determined and walked away.

She continued on with her show innocently believing she encountered the last of Justin. I find time to catch a breath and I immediately begin to pick at my fingernails. Flo is going on and on about which drag girls are performing tonight when I see Justin quickly leave our table. Suddenly he is on stage and waving a seasoned-curly fry in her face.

"I don't want that." Says Flo, slightly nervous.

"C'mon!" Justin whines.

He wiggles the fry in front of the drag queen a few more seconds, like he's taunting a poodle with a milkbone. She doesn't take, so he decides to wrap his lips around half the fry like he's about to smoke it. I realize he is going for a Lady and the Tramp moment with her but the best he'll get is a Mommie Dearest.

"Go over there!" She yells and points toward us.

At this point, I consider my fate. Either I can stand up and walk to the bathroom right now to avoid the drag queen's wrath, or I can sit here quietly and pretend I don't know Justin. The first option would be too obvious, so I stay put and try not to pee.

Justin and the spotlight return to the seat next to me.

"Ugh. L.A. boys suck." Flo ranted as sweat began to form in a thin layer on her wrinkled forehead. Her makeup was slightly running from all the excitement.

"It's not my fault you're on a diet." Snottily replied Justin, again with the fry in the air.

Flo's jaw dropped and the arm she held the microphone with dropped straight from her mouth to her side. It actually dropped fast enough to make a "whooshing" noise. Shocked Flo came with her own sound effects.

"D.J., put on some ghetto shit," Flo spit out towards the DJ booth,"I'm gonna tell this bitch off."

She stepped back into a darker part of the stage and sat the microphone down. I decided to run as far away from the Midwest as possible, but was in such a stage of shock I actually was paralyzed. I wasn't going anywhere. Worst yet, Justin was actually having fun with this and not realizing how badly I was dying. Darren was getting a kick out of it too. But his boyfriend wasn't the one about to be murdered by a man in a 60's style dress and makeup.

The DJ finally found some ghetto ass gangsta shit. "Smack Dem Hoes" was blaring thoughout the club and Flo was getting ready to attack. She took off her earrings, and then lifted up each foot so she could remove her pumps. With a quick glance at her nails, Flo stomped over to our table.

Flo sneered as she asked "how old are you?" She seemed to talk only out of the left half of her mouth.

"Guess." Justin replied, egging her on.

"Hmmm. Eleven."

A chuckle washed over the audience and without missing a beat, the DJ loaded and played the theme song to Sesame Street.

Justin then quickly admitted he was 29.

"Gosh. You are so immature and out of control! Do you have a boyfriend?!" She said, getting no response.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Justin shot a quick glance at me and must have noticed me in a catatonic state.

"No."

"No wonder shithead. You couldn't be in a relationship."

I thought to myself, "this can't get much worse," though I knew she was going to interview me. I could see it in her face. She knew I was there with Justin and that I somehow knew him.

I could see her thinking "he would be on my side" as she moved the microphone toward my face.

She asked me, "Are you from L.A. too?"

She pointed the microphone at my mouth and I heard myself taking a deep breath over the club's speakers.

"Yes." I decided.

"Is this your boyfriend?" she asked as she made a face which looked as if she just smelled the worst shit you could imagine.

I looked straight at Justin. I love him too much to ever deny being with him.

"Yes." I said.

I hung my head in shame, seemingly saying "do what you must, I accept my fate."

"L.A. boys suck!" L.A. boys suck!" she screams, demanding a chant from the audience.

The audience responds and it snowballs into pure and hateful enthusiasm.

"All us KC fags could kick the shit out of any L.A. boy!" Flo screams.

The local KC gay crowd cheers her on.

My body is shocked beyond being paralyzed at this point and allows me to leave. I get up and jog towards the bathroom. Justin and Darren stay at the table.
On the way to the bathroom the bartender stops me.

"Flo can be a bitch. Just chill up here and she'll leave you alone." he says.

The side of the bar he is on faces The Flo Show, so I decide she could possibly come out to the bar area to continue her tirade. I notice a spot on the other side of the bar hidden by the trivia machine. I run to it, grab the stool and calm myself down.

After a few minutes, the bartender sets a bottled water in front of me and asks again if I'm okay. I nod and start to wonder if I'm a little crazy for being embarrassed. I quickly assure myself any sober person in their right mind would have ran away the second it smelled of trouble. I chose to wait for the guys to find me in my hiding spot.

Five minutes later, Justin and Darren find me.

"Baby I didn't want her to think she won." says Justin, referring to why it took them a bit to join me.

"Whatever. I'm ready to go." I said.

This is our usual 12:30 AM bar script. The characters are always the same. Justin plays a drunk and wide-awake hot boyfriend who will never leave before a bar closes. I play the sober, tired and bored grandma who didn't want to go to the bar to begin with. Though the actual lines in the script vary, tonight's was fairly typical. Oh yeah, Justin's character always wins and makes the grandma stay past 1 Am, thus missing her meds. and turning into a raging bitch.

Justin and Darren are treated to more rounds of shots by the stalker/bartender. I realized he had a thing for us after the fifth energy drink he handed me. He's been hooking my boyfriend and cousin up all night, and is at fault for their saucy states. I continue to pout and think of all the ways I could get Justin to leave. Finally, it rushed over me. I suddenly had a tremendous urge in my belly to use the restroom. Energy drinks always mess up my bowels, and I was working with 10 minutes at best.

I pleaded, "dude, we gotta go."

"No baby, not yet."

"Seriously Justin I've been ready and I'm not having any fun."

"C'mon baby we won't stay much longer. Darren wants to find a straight girl here and I'll get another drink."

I paused and scanned his face for any sign of changing his mind. Nada.

I gave up. "Justin, I really have to go to the bathroom but I can't go here."

"They have a bathroom here." he responded.

"I know, but they are scary and have no doors."

Any bar bathroom is bad enough. A gay bar bathroom is worst. This one in particular had shower curtains mimicking doors to the stalls. I had only used the toilet to pee once, and I could have sworn there was a glory hole cut out in the stalls. I imagined myself bent over the toilet seat, sweating out the nervousness. All of a sudden a random, ugly cock pokes me in the idea. Though it sounds hot, I imagined it definitely wouldn't be.

I continue to beg Justin (and now Darren, too). They are laughing at me and trying to get me to give up and use the public restroom.

"We can't leave cause you have to poop, Jon." says Darren.

"But I gotta poooooooop!" I say, reverting to a childhood like state with the realization of how little time I had left.

Justin takes my hand in his and says, "C'mon. I'll go with you and guard the door so nobody comes in."

I resist, but he is stronger. The last thing I want is a guard positioned outside the restroom, letting each patron know "he's shy and shitting" as he blocks their path through the doorway.

He and Darren get me close to the bathroom when the prettiest drag queen there stops him.

"I just wanted to say my friends thought you were hot." she says, tracing his shirt button with her finger.

"Awe. Thanks."

"Yeah no prob- Is this your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, this is Jonathan."

I winced. "Hi."

She gave me a seductive look and tossed her long red ponytail extension over her shoulder.

"You are much more my type."

I said "thanks" and pushed Justin towards the bathroom.

She stuck her hand out in between us.

"I'm Madison Avenue. Pleasure."

Justin remembered my predicament and asked her to excuse us following introductions.

"He's really gotta go but is scared of the restroom her." he said.

"Oh sweetie, I am too. Here, let me take you to the private bathroom backstage."

She took my hand and lead me away from my guy. Her hand was small and dainty. She was born to be a girl.

She lead me through the crowd. The closer we got to the stage and to Flo, the more I turned my head away and then covered it. I didn't need Flo seeing me lead into her private bathroom. I couldn't even imagine what jokes she could make of that. Luckily, we made it without problem.

Madison unlocked the door and I noticed drag queens out of drag and getting ready in front of mirrors. What is a drag queen without her drag? Scary, I learned.
I love the illusion of a great performer, but seeing one get ready is not sexy. A grown man applying cover-up to the razor bumps on his neck truly ruins the feminine image.

I thank Madison and God and close the door behind me. It's clean, lockable and has no glory hole. It's perfect. I throw down the paper seat cover and feel better. Energy drinks really do fuck my stomach up. Gross.

I am satisfied and proud of my accomplishment. And I have wiped and cleaned myself up and I am ready to face the gays again. I do partly pray that Flo isn't in the dressing room waiting to see me exit a foul smelling toilet. I could see her going back on stage to talk about how "stupid L.A. fags shit and stuff," while pointing me out and encouraging audience members to check out the smell I left.

"Impossible." I told myself.

I am ready to leave to make my stay in the drag queen's restroom as efficient as possible when I try to flush their toilet. Nothing. I let out a nervous chuckle as my mouth fluctuates between a smile and a frown. I try to flush again. The water gurgles and swishes for a tenth of a second and then nothing. Everything is still there, out for anyone - even a drag queen about to go on stage - to see.

I panic. I'm at orange alert level (that's our highest, right?). I see a plunger next to the toilet and dive towards it. My whole body is sweating and it seems my hearing turns superhuman as I can suddenly hear any footstep outside the door. I slush around through the toilet and find the drain with the plunger. I plunge my little heart away. I am on my knees praying to God with the plunger to either get rid of my shit or to strike me dead. The drag queens were sure to discover me and make fun of my openness.

I am too exposed, vulnerable. It all needs to be flushed and sanitized, so I keep plunging. I break the sweaty manual labor to try the lever. It flushes. I stay for a moment, bent over the drag queen's toilet with the plunger in both hands above the water, catch my breath, and stare down the drain to make sure it doesn't return.

It doesn't.

I sneak out of the drag bathroom fifteen minutes later and successfully avoid any direct eye contact with anyone. I run as far away from backstage and rejoin Justin.
We stay a bit longer and I have a better time.

I hate being exposed, and our visit to the drag show had made me face my fears. Though I tackled the scorn of a pissed off geriatric drag queen and was able to flush it all down the toilet, it wasn't easy. For now, though, my shit stays underground.

(a drag performer in KC)

We are back. Justin and I landed at LAX a few nights ago. An absence of snow and cold temperatures were fresh on our minds as we drove back to our home. It is nice to be home and we had a nice trip.

For Justin, the trip was emotional and partially burdensome. He had almost non-stop family exposure which I'm sure was exactly like a four day stay at a mental hospital, only the hospital would have been cleaner. He met nearly my whole family during four days of activities and somehow kept his charm at full blast the whole time. Though he has family and friends in the area, he was only able to spend a few hours of one night with his best friend. He was upset and I don't blame him. Most of our trip was tightly planned, a safari full of curiously interesting creatures not found in LA.

Cousin Drew's guest room was perfect. Our pillows greeted us with the best chocolates Justin and I had ever enjoyed (christopher elbow chocolates, KC). Our place was clean and bathroom full of new toiletries. Drew really went above the line. I was happy Justin's first glimpse into my family would be the impression he received from Drew's place. Unlike my immediate kin's, Drew's house was roomy, dust free, complete with working sinks and toilets, unstained from 30+years of nicotine and free of some sort of stomach virus which had plagued my parents while we were there. Justin displayed amazing traits as he toughed through a house and long visits which I'm sure nearly drove him nuts. Better yet, he still loves me, even after seeing how my immediate family lives.

AS dirty and broken as my parent's house and health may be, love overflows from their being. They may be barely able to stay afloat and survive, but they sure keep the love nearly exploding. Justin noticed it and commented on it. It's the one thing they've got going for them.

I have many stories from our visit: Taking my straight brother to a drag bar for his first time, plunging the drag queen's dressing room toilet in a nervous sweat, Justin enduring hours of embarrassing stories from mom (including one of a pap smear and cervical scraping), Justin and I disagreeing on some major issues and then coming out better than before....
but those will have to wait for the weekend. Right now, I am on a double shift at work (welcome back from vacation, right?) and I need to get back. I''ll have tons of great updates and even more pictures this weekend, so check back often!!!

Justin and I arrived in Kansas City yesterday around 3pm. I was nearly in a coma from taking two xanex on our flight (turbulance scares me). We landed at just the right moment. If our arrival was scheduled any later it might have been cancelled due to a nice winter storm over the KC area. We walked out the automatic airport doors and snow flurries coated our eyelids as they seemed to say "Welcome back to the Midwest." It's fucking cold here, but I'm happy to be out of LA and with the family.

I apologize if I am updating the blog at a slower pace. Family time is precious to me, and this visit is a bigger occasion than most. The introduction of Justin into the family is fun and going smoothly. I had a few stomach butterflies earlier today before we drove to my parent's house, but everything has been great. Justin is a great sport and my parents love him. We are here in their cozy home now visiting with my mom and dad and brother. I found time to escape and left Justin in the living room to charm his way into their hearts. He's such a charming guy, that's one of my favorite things about him.

Tonight we are going to a fun drag show that I try to check out whenever I spend a Sunday night in Kansas City. Smaller town drag shows are the best. They are much more campy and less produced than the one's the ladies in LA put on. I hate that KC allows smoking in bars though. Twenty minutes inside and my eyes are scorched and red and I become physically uncomfortable. My sight usually gives out and forces me to squint right around the time the larger and lazier drag queens take the stage. At the point in the evening when I am overwhelmed by the gay Kansas Citian's collective nicotine addiction, a bearded and hairy-legged man with a wig on will take the stage to lip synch Celine Dion. My sight goes out at the pefect time, knowing exactly what it's about to witness.

I am happy. Family is my first priority. Being here with them and Justin is like nothing I've ever felt in the world. It's great to be lucky enough to have open-minded and supportive parents. Though many small town families might ignore (or worst) their gay children and their partners, my family embraces Justin and recognize us as a serious couple.

We are staying with my cousin and life-long best friend Drew. She and her husband and fucking adorable 3 year-old, Sarah, are keeping us warm and fed and loved and entertained. Ill have plenty of stories about staying with them to come.Playing with little Sarah makes me want a baby as soon as possible. Justin and I keep trying but nothing yet. One day.

I'm going back in to save Justin from embarassing stories of me (from mom) and football talk (from Dad and my brother). More later......

I am at work now, four hours into a twelve hour shift. For lunch I am a delivery boy and for dinner I am managing the Pick-Up and Delivery area. It's been a slow lunch which is bittersweet. I'd like to make good money so Justin and I can spend with less guilt in KC, but I am feeling lazy as fuck and not wanting to move. The weather is definitely inspiring though. Hollywood is flirting with 80 degrees and an ideal Southern California day is once again reality.
For my most recent delivery, I drove down Sunset Boulevard with the windows down and forced myself to not keep driving all the way to the beach.

"I must focus... keeping your job is a good thing. keeping your job is a good thing," I repeated over and over, my warm-weather-workday mantra. LA's climate is the apple of it's Eden.

Being able to drive through the Sunset Strip with the windows down gives me a false sense of accomplishment. I wonder how I got here and if it will all be taken away. I sometimes feel as though I am undeserving of nice things, even sunshine in January. I've fucked up a lot in my life and feel guilty for driving with the windows down. But I still enjoy it.

Every day that I walk outside and am welcomed by perfect temperatures and a crystal blue sky (99% of the year in LA), I remind myself why I came in the first place. Dreams. My whole life, the only time I ever felt the weight of shyness absent from my body would be when I was on stage. Something about portraying a character and being so vulnerable really made me feel alive. When I wasn't performing with the local children's theatre, I was a shy boy who bit his fingernails to the bone in fear of anyone noticing me. Acting was my escape.

Naturally, I followed the dream to LA. I felt it was my only option in life. There was nowhere for me to be at 17 except for here and I had never surer of anything. Determination got me here, and helped me survive the end of my teenage years on my own. LA will strip you like bark and turn your pulp into a blank sheet of paper if you're not careful. Millions of people put up with being treated like cattle in the streets, auditions, bars...all for their dreams. Most either move back wherever they originated from with a frail sense of self, or live out their dream for stardom in the porn-world with a nasty drug habit. LA will change you no matter your strength, conviction, morals. But as long as you have dreams, the wonderland that is LA will keep you enthralled.

There was a point when I became very disillusioned with the movie industry. As a naive 17 year old, I relocated with an assumption that acting was about talent and passion. Six months into it, I learned that acting in Hollywood is about who you fuck, how you look, and who you know. Two years after tolerating it for the sake of my dream, I was broken. I had entered a world with passion and hope, and came out the other end cynical and doubtful of myself. I decided to enroll in the local community college to find myself again. After focusing mainly on English courses, a deep passion for writing was uncovered.

Here I am today delivering food to the successful residents in the hills of Hollywood. My offices are the streets of LA. Though I get to enjoy the weather and I am not confined within walls, my office has the downfall of a glass ceiling. The glass ceiling I encounter at work is constantly reinforced through multi-million dollar homes and fleets of luxury cars. I am greeted by accomplished souls with tips of $5 waiting in their hands - a visual reminder of the life I'd love to live.

After years of college I realized I was sleepwalking. Acting was my dream and by putting it on hold for school, I was without a dream. I was left to drift through life hoping to be picked up by something special and significant. Then I was.

Justin found me shortly after I had an epiphany. Dreams change as you grow. They are layers of skin which we shed as we rub on the rocky edges of experience. Justin is my dream. I want a family with him. Everything else is icing.

Writing is becoming important to me as well. I love experiencing life, but I love sharing the experience with others more. Thanks to writing and my future with Justin, I don't feel I'm sleepwalking through life anymore.

Sometimes I wonder what really keeps me from flying from the Earth at radical speeds. Technically, I guess I would really be falling from the planet into space. However my fears define it, I sat in my car today, parked in our driveway, and wondered just how easy it would be to be sucked into the heavens.

I guess I am just feeling a little anxious.

Justin got in a small and insignificant fender bender yesterday. He was in front of his work in bumper to bumper traffic when he accidentally tapped a girl's car in front of him. No damage was done and they both left in good spirits. Today, however, it seems the girl is attempting to make a bullshit claim on the tap. Justin feels horrible and I am sure it's the last thing he needs on his plate. Last night I passed him the bowl and rubbed his head in efforts of support. Our insurance is recently acquired and we have out of state licenses, raising the importance of the insignificant incident in my perpetually nail-biting things to worry about mental list. I am assured though, mainly through Justin's deep, soothing, voice, that it will all work out.

We leave early Saturday morning for Kansas City. Thanks to waking up at noon today and only accomplishing a mildly-satisfying brunch at Fred 62, we didn't get as much done for our trip as I had hoped. I need a scarf, gloves and other cold-as-fuck clothing items which, when worn in LA during winter, make you seem infinitely contrived. Yet these winter-clothing musts are items I grew up on, and I look forward each winter to busting them out in KC. Didn't get them today. We did make it to the ol'-reliable 99cent store for spray air-freshener. Both Justin and I work tomorrow - I open and close the restaurant - and it will be a day we have no time for errands. Going to KC scarf-less isn't the end of the world, but I am pussified after my blood has considerably thinned due to 8 years of LA warmth. Oh yeah, at Fred 62 we ate near Betty's stalker from Ugly Betty, Kevin Sussman (http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0839934/). Ugly Betty is my favorite show on any TV right now, and I adore Kevin's character. He was with a cute girl seated at the counter a little behind us. I would never have guessed he was on a Golden Globe winning hit show if I didn't watch it faithfully. Let me have my cheesy Hollywood moment even though they occur endlessly in this town.

Now, Justin is watching Tivo and we have just finished a bowl. I am only half-present as I write, the other half of mind is fully-employed in making mental lists of things needing to be done. I love lists. I write lists both psychically and in ink a few times through out the day. Some days, the rare ones in which Justin and I don't convert the living room into a sex-cave, the most thrilling moment I have will be when I check off a completed task from a list. Those are called Wednesdays.

Tonight we should go to the gym, and I am keeping my fingers crossed that I didn't burn that bridge when I suddenly found myself inhaling a bowl's worth of weed. We have been lazy with the gym since November, and I have lost the nice little body of work I claimed last summer. Ugh, marriage and weed are a fattening combination.

Speaking of body-issues, I am considering posting a report I wrote on male-body image and the media. Living in West Hollywood has admittedly created an unhealthy and persistent body-awareness I have struggled with for about 5 years. Looks are currency in LA, and you are constantly reminded of your balance.

I'll be back to write more tonight.

It snowed in LA today. It hasn't since 1986. We also had the warmest summer on record. Now this. As much as I'd like to blame the media, I am a little nervous about weather. While I am bombarded with messages every day of the impending apocalypse, I am reminded by mother nature herself that she's feelin' a little frisky.

If you believe in karma then you won't be surprised when global warming decides to punish the City of Angels with his worst. LA's public transportation is the worst in the country. Transportation in general seems to be the city's worst civic problem. Every day, the traffic increase is actually, literally noticeable. The sheer amount of cars added onto LA's freeways on a weekly basis must be somewhere near a 15% increase. Nobody utilizes the embarrassing bus and rail system because it really doesn't go anywhere convenient. The subways are getting better but I can't yet name one person I know who uses public transportation on a daily basis.

I have used it a few times. Justin and I moved near a stop and it will be really convenient to get between our house and downtown. But almost everyone on the Westside stays as far away from public transportation as possible. These same people commute to work, and consider carpooling to be low class. Our freeways are nightmares 24/7, and our air is nearly toxic.

But for as many people contributing pollution there are half as many that know what's up. Toyota's Prius was the trendiest car of the year. Angeleno's are becoming better at recycling and are being more supportive of political bills helpful to the environment. It's a start.

I read on lifehacker (www.lifehacker.com) 10 great tips for a greener 2007. I have begun to attempt their suggestions and have found it very easy and clearing of the conscious. At Home Depot I found some great energy efficient light bulbs. You know, the ones that spiral like pig's tails...they were selling 6 in a pack for $9.99. Amazing. They'll last forever and save money over time on the electricity.

The other green tip I am beginning to try is utilizing a surge protector on every outlet in the house. I simply turn the "power" button on the protector off whenever I am gone or not using electricity. I leave the house feeling a little better about myself.

Well, Justin is home and we are in serious need of smoking some weed and catching up on Tivo.

Die Mommie Die is on Logo in the background. My feet are numb from the deep chill California has been throwing my way, and also because our 2 bedroom house has only one, small, inefficient heater. I can't wait until we get wi-fi so I can bring the laptop into the living room (heater room) so I can blog away in the warmth. Until then, know that I'm slightly distracted as I patiently await frostbite's kiss on my big toe.

Justin went out to the bars again tonight. Last night, I accepted his invitation to the drag show and had a blast. However, my blast was more like a rocket ship using blow as fuel. Tonight, I am just not in the mood and frankly I am sad that he's out to the gay bars for the fourth time since last Tuesday. I can't nor do I want to control Justin. He is an adult and needs to be happy and not bored. But we are practically married, and going out to gay bars every other night is not my idea of what someone in a serious relationship does. That said, I know that I can trust him. He loves me and I believe with all my heart his intentions are good. He just likes the drinky-drinky and the getting-out-of-the-house-to-avoid-the-wifey. We are totally based on Homer and Marge Simpson. I even like the casino a little too much.

We have a bit of an exciting week coming up. I wasn't able to go home to KC over the holidays which was really shitty. I go every year for Christmas. Staying in Los Angeles for Christmas in a home we had just moved into three weeks prior was utterly depressing. Yeah we had our first cute Christmas together and it was all very Hallmarky, but being away from the family for over a year has been difficult. To alleviate this pain Justin and I decided we would visit my family for my little brother's 21st Birthday on January 22nd. It will be the first meeting between Justin and my family. This could go either really, really well or it could bomb so badly I will never be able to bring home another boyfriend. I'm hoping for the first option.

We leave this Saturday and comeback the following Wednesday. That is more than enough time with the folks. Though because we are staying with my cousin, Sandra, the time I would have normally spent with the parent's will be cut in half. Typically, I always stay in my mom's craft room in the house I grew up in. However, the point of this trip is to fold Justin deeper into my life and not push him away, so I'm not taking any chances by forcing him to sleep in near-squalor.

Staying at my parent's house might scare-off even the most die-hard of Jonathan enthusiasts. With no working sink in the entire house, my father (a hospital janitor) has ghetto-rigged the kitchen sink to pour water whenever it wants to, at a temperature determined by a mystical creature living throughout the house's plumbing. Most of the time, moans and grunts of this creature can be heard as various knobs are turned within the home. The bathroom sink hasn't worked since my Grandma passed away in the 90's. The shower will only spray if you bend over and assume doggie-style position while tightly grasping the nozzle around the bath faucet If successful, you will be rewarded by a tiny trickle of water. Tile is held on in the kitchen and bathroom via ductape my Grandfather had masterfully attached over 5 years ago. Despite these dilapidations, my family is comfortable, and so am I every time I visit (my threshold is about a week's worth of time though). I know that deep down this shit doesn't matter. What matters most is whether or not you got love in your heart and passion in life. In fact, these annoying domestic factors just add character. Unfortunately, character isn't easily noticed upon a first impression, and I know that if Justin's first impression of my family is a run down shack they can't afford to fix, his impression of my family will be misconstrued.

Perhaps I am thinking too deeply of something small. Maybe my fear of Justin being acquainted with my family has nothing to do with them or him. Maybe it is solely an issue I have with my family. Yes, I am embarrassed. I also feel guilty to admit being embarrassed. Whatever it is I am feeling, I am sure it'll grow closer to the surface when Justin and I travel to Kansas City this weekend, and then I'll give a try working on it. (Can't wait to see Mom....)