С 2004 года им выносят решения, что это не конституционно. Бараны...




I watch him on Youtube or wherever and my chest gets constricted. I just want to find some semblance of solace in the circle of his arms, pressed up against his chest, nuzzling his clavicle. Feel his fingertips on the nape of my neck. His breath against the shell of my ear. That's all I want. No drama, no comlications, just simple human comfort.

I know that for that wish alone every respectable religion (and most irrespectable ones) on the planet will hurl me to every imaginable hell for all eternity. And then and there, burning for the rest of time, I'll probably be too out of this world to remember why it happened. But in the here and now I sin again and again with no trace of repentance and can't stop my little black sinful damned-for-all-time heart from going to him.


Another abbreviation

The guy I thought I was in love with
Please don't tell me there is no such code in contemporary sms-English with its proclivity for alphabet soup.


@темы: equality


Ah well another wasted night

For once I have a night to spare and V can't come. It's been ages. He's been stuck in the garage fixing the car since 1 pm. Just my luck. Dumb. I so wanted to try out this new lube. I kinda miss him, too. Oh well, no biggie. I'll just sit here by meself.


Girl talk

Fifteen years ago, boyfriends were a big deal. She'd bring one up in every conversation, a boyfriend was important. My boyfriend this and my boyfriend that, we did this and we did that. Boyfriends mattered.
Now we're thirty four. And she might not even mention if she's got a new boyfriend. Maybe it's because she know I'm not seeing anyone and doesn't want to rub it in my face. But most likely, it's because neither of us gives a tiny rat's ass. We talk for an hour and like 58 minutes in, she casually mentions that she'll be staying at a boyfriend's when she first arrives, until she sorts out a place. Exactly, "a" boyfriend's, not the boyfriend's. A man is no longer the coolest thing to happen to us. Fifteen years ago, its was like, "Oooh, it's so cool to have a boyfriend, life has meaning when you have a boyfriend." Today, it's like "He's not a complete tosser, so thanks for that. He's eh, whatever."


RU/DW as parallel worlds

The Master wants to eliminate all freedom of thought so much he transforms every single of his subjects into a clone of himself.
Sounds familiar? Yep, that's what we're going through now. Except, it's taking our Master longer than a few moments. And of course no madman from a blue box will give a damn about us or him. No madman with no blue box will love him.


Getting back in the game?

I know I should start dating again. Mother has been poking around, suggesting I should some time bring Alyona to her and go on vacation with a man. Yeah right, like I could relax without her at my side. I have my family, I have my part-time shag, what more do I need?
Oh, that came out really bad. Of course, he's not just a shag. It's just the main purpose that drives him to me is all. We both know we care for each other, we just don't make a big deal of it. He's honest, forthright, open-minded, respectful of my privacy, and he is a phenomenal shag.
Still, maybe my mother has a point. Since I'm not in love with my daughter's father, I might as well see someone outside of bedsheets. You know, meet someone, pretend to be what they want me to be, pretend to buy whatever front they put up for my sake, spend their money on dinners and movies for a while, not go to third base for a few months.
And then what? Get bored in the middle of Chinese wishing I was somewhere else? Laugh at something else the moment they're done telling some joke I don't care to get?
What is the point of it all? Love? I know love. Better than I like. A father for my child? She already has the best father she could ask for. Money? I simply don't have what it takes to be a kept woman.
So, why? Why turn some innocent bloke's life to hell? Why waste his time and my time and mess with my daughter's head when I know I'll always love someone else?
Perhaps, I should just tell my mother I'm seeing someone. Nah. She'll expect him to take care of me and my daughter. Imaginary lovers are not very good at that sort of thing.

Wow, I've rambled like a whole book. A really dull dim one.



My SB Maestro card expires in Sept. I can order a new one no sooner than August 15. Which is when I'm gonna be out of town. Ugh. I'll have to withdraw the money and deposit to the other card's account.


Smash 108

Derek's coat is so long, so so so Doctor Who long. He even had to swoosh it back behind his butt to climb some stairs. Camp or not camp?



Medical espionage?

I don't like how thin my mother has got lately. She won't say anything but it feels wrong. Not with cancer history in the family and what not. I wish there was a way to access her medical records.


Легкие Люди. Михаил Дурненков. ON.Театр.

Stupid homophobic law! I was just getting ready to go to the theatre and caught myself wondering if I'd get arrested for carrying a Stonewall totebag. Those in St Pete Legislative Assembly are the real buggers. Curse them etc.
On the bright side.... Wanna see a friend in nothing but a pair of briefs and a wifebeater, go see him in a play! Not sure if I was aroused or traumatized for life, but awww so cute my stem brain went into an instant meltdown. I've known the man for over a decade and none of his clothes ever did justice to what's underneath. Sadly, once out of character in the dressing room, he was just my friend again. Sweet and nice, but not mindblowingly hot or anything. Just his regular Hoochik self. That must have been the meltdown stembrain talking then. And a testimony to some seriously awesome acting abilities on his part. I found it difficult to believe Boyarsky in Private Lives but I bought everything this young allegedly inexperienced cast threw at me line, hook and sinker. Or maybe it'd Durnenkov's writing. I can relate to it so easily, like we're in the same carrass or something.

In line to the coatcheck, there were some young girls talking about the play. And one said, she couldn't put into words what the play was about. I was like, come on, strap on a brain and you'll find something. It could say so much to every single one of us laymen.

Like responsibility. Destiny. Relationships. Where our loyalty really lies. What it takes just to cope with life on a day-to-day basis. Sanity. Pick anything! Durnenkov certainly has a lot to say, unless, of course, you haven't got a care in the world, in which case even Chekhov will be mute to you.

Speaking of allusions. I doubt Durnenkov ever saw Next to Normal, bit the topic of mental health and compulsive sandwich making definitely bridge them together.

Then the paprikas crunching. I mean, you can almost see Checkov's Dasha and her cucumber.

Random thoughts.
- Nothing good can come out of your ex from 12 years before suddenly showing up at your doorstep.
- Loads of good can come out of your ex from 12 years before suddenly showing up at your doorstep.
- It's all your fault.
- None of it is your fault.
- Things suck royally.
- Thins will find a way to work out.
- Everyone is responsible for someone's death.
- No one has any control over anyone's destiny.
- It is not the best idea to barge in on your ex girlfriend and her husband and start insulting her while she's slicing kielbasa with a very real-looking knife.
- It is not the best idea to make a move on your ex girlfriend while her current husband is having a schizofrenic episode.
- No matter how glamorously life sucks, it's nothing a bottle of hard liquor can't take care of.

At some point it all turned very personal for me. Like, what if my ex showed up at my doorstep? I'd probably say, "whatever you're selling I'm not buying". Or how responsible am I for Katya's death? If I had showed up at her birthday party, would it not have become the day of her death? Would she have not felt tempted to climb that windowsill? Would I have been able to alter the timeline just enough to swing her to this side of the pane? It's been very easy for me to convince myself that I can't assume the burden of someone else's destiny but in all fairness, didn't I simply excuse myself from responsibility that I don't feel comfortable facing?

See, normally I get mad at authors for pushing me in that direction. But not with Durnenkov. He does it so gracefully despite the f-words. Plus, the audience got to consume the sandwiches after the show.

Oh there're so many layers in this young playwright's work, I'm too dim to penetrate all of them. And you know what the brilliance of the piece is? You don't have to be a Lomonosov to enjoy it! You're gonna have a great night even if you never so much as heard Chekhov's name! You're gonna get you money's worth. And I don't just mean a hunky dude in his underwear.


Leap of Faith

If God really cared whether I believe or not, why didn't He grant me the gift of faith? How am I supposed to believe in God without faith?
If God didn't want samesex couple to have children, why would he repeatedly give them twins or triplets where he gives straight couples a single kid?
If God wanted me to hate gays why did he give me such great gay friends?
If God wanted me to stone gays why didn't he make me sinless so I could cast the first stone?
If God hated gays why did he make them gay in the first place?
If God is love, why does he encourage Christians to spread so much hatred?
I suppose there's no telling why God does what he does, there's no seeing what he actually means by it. He must have his reasons. Maybe that's why it's called the leap of faith. You just have to take a leap of faith and believe that God really is a hater. But since he didn't give me the faculty of faith, I can't do that. I can't hate someone just for the sake of hating.



Saw D. today to pick up Alyona's umbrella and teddy.
The man looks gorgeous. It takes all my willpower to make my hugs appropriate for a friend. For a straight female friend hugging a gay male friend. Who is in a happy committed relationship with a really nice guy. Well, it's not like I wanna marry him, right? I just wanna spend some time in his company, maybe some of his awesomeness will rub off on me. He's not just gorgeous. He's smart, artistic, talented, and funny. He has such cool vibrations, like his name was Earnest.


Anne. Australia

Anne sent a bundle of home videos. She has a life-size cutout of JB on her door. In a black suit. With black hair. And that blindingly-white-teethed smirk. How does she not swoon every time she enters the room is beyond me.

Watched Hugh Jackman on Martha Stewart. Oh, the accent... He brings a bowl to the sink right over Martha Stewart's head. I mean, the bowl floats right above the top of her head. If you're five foot tall like me, you will understand how much I wanted to smack his hand at that moment. You tree of a man, have some manners, move away a couple inches, you're not on a packed up bus. Well, I'd probably forgive him for his accent.

I should probably watch X-Men, see what all the fuss is about.



First post.
Am I nervous? No. But you probably should be.
I'm not politically correct.
I'm bitchy, mean, opinionated and stupid.
Still reading? Be it on your own head.