Uuummmm Sir, you have some shrimp stuck in your neck hair!

So here I am, all dressed up, wearing my Talbot's Flare jeans, black jimmy cho's, slim fit white button up shirt, and my black with white dots tux coat... looking smokin hot and refreshed.

My cohorts, Benny and Donny...a dashing vegan couple and surprising new friends to Moi! The 3 of us all ready for an evening of fun, awards, paparazzi, and fancy people!

We arrive at the Gala event, as we walk in, there are crowds of people laughing, air kissing, diamonds twinkling on the women, and the men and glasses clinking! As we make our way through the people, and head to one of the open bars for wine there is distant voice softly calling my name.  I turn ever so slowly around in caution because I know that voice.  It's his voice...

I turn completely around to find no one there, just glittering people walking past.  Was he just in my head? in my heart and soul? Is he just someone that I made up while I was in the coma? did he really find me?

Benny and Donny walk over to me with wine for us and we raise our glasses at toast to a fabulous evening of merriment and gaiety!  There we are, laughing, air kissing diplomats, idiots, headliners and Drag Queens.  I notice a young man approach Moi with a tray of appetizers... he is rather unkept looking with wrinkled clothing, messy greasy hair, and unshaven.  He offers Moi a spoon full of shrimp and shellfish!  I stand there an stare at this guy and I begin to enjoy the seafood in the spoon.  I notice he has ...what looks like a piece of shrimp stuck to his long facial hair on his neck.

I just stand there thinking...someone needs to tell this guy about the shrimp that he has gotten tangled in his neck hair!  He walks through the crowd with his tray of seafood with me in pursuit of wanting to not embarrass him any.  As I'm walking towards him, I am pulled by an admirer for a photo opp! I eventually am able to get away and now I can't seem to find him.  I spot him on the other side of the room, and I make tracks towards him hoping to get him alone to tell him about his dangling shrimp!

As I approach him I notice the shrimp is almost like dancing in his neck hair!

I tap him on his shoulder gently as I don't want to startle him and his shrimp falls off his neck and lands on a spoon... Sir, Young Man,..... As he turns to me, I lean in closely to him and point at my neck and say...you happen to have some shrimp on your neck... He replies with well thank you for noticing my skin tag, I really appreciate it, I will now go home and kill myself!

I'm like so stunned and shocked! That's a skin tag?  Who walks around with a skin tag the size of a shrimp while serving...shrimp?

I mean...come on dude!  

Succubus or is it Incubus?

As I was walking through the arts & crafts store, minding my own divine business, pushing my bedazzled (with red glitter and rhinestones) shopping cart, I felt someone watching me.  Which I thought “who would even know me here? Afterall I was incognito with my white Jackie-o’s, red feather boa, and white linen jumpsuit.” Unlike Kirstie Alley who always makes her presence known…

Anywho… I continued to walk as I could not allow myself to look around to find the person who was so obviously starring at Moi.  Which really was nothing new, as I have grown accustomed to the hundreds of thousands of people who merely enjoy just looking at me. 

As I made my way through the store, I realized the only way to shake this tail was to zig zag through it.  After about 4 hours of this, my legs and feet were beginning to falter and so Moi descended to a room that is used for classes and workshops.  As I sat down, once again I felt the presence of someone, now even closer than the previous 4 hours. 

He approaches me with confidence and a gentle smile, he is slender, standing about 5’10, thick silver hair that sported a slight wave, inviting eyes, and spoke with an accent.  He asks… Are you a designer? I naturally replied with, but of course I am! Which in return I asked him… I can see from your shopping cart that you are a painter of sorts? He began to tell me of his art, the style in which he creates in, and a bit about himself. 

I sit there and find myself intrigued by this man with the accent, if I had to guess, I would say he is Cuban or Spanish.  He carries himself with a certain presence that exudes power, status and nobility.

We exchanged an enticing conversation and then he presents me with his calling card, and writes his personal private number on the back.  I then in return offer him mine, and part with “I am interested in seeing your stuff, I mean your art…”

I guess a week or two passed and then one early warm and moist evening, he calls…

I answer the phone with “ This is Divine Man, how may you help me?”  I think he was a bit taken aback at first as there was a pause and then he spoke to me with his sexy accented voice.  Divine Man, I realize this is such short notice but would you do me the privilege of meeting me for wine and spirited conversation this evening?

The next thing I know we are sitting at this dahling little wine bar, the lights are dim, soft music in the background, and we are the only 2 there(aside from the wine merchant) as if he had arranged it to be just us.  We sat there, toasted to a robust glass of red wine, and began an exotic conversation which was jolly, and dark all at the same time.  Eventually we ventured out onto the cobble stone streets and walked in the moonlight as the fog slowly began to drift in.  The air was still and quiet around us, the moon was full and the shadows danced all around us.  I suddenly trip on a brick, and he catches me and as he does our eyes lock, his arms grow strong around my small waist and he quickly pulls me up and extremely close to him.  I just stare into his piercing eyes, frozen and unable to move, not wanting to remove myself from his clutches.  He then ever so gently presses his wet lips to mine, slowly but with intent.  And then wham! His mouth and lips and tongue go full throttle on me.  It is as if he is a toilet plunger encasing my entire mouth area, and forcing his snake like long tongue into my mouth and down my throat, filling it with his venom.  His strong arms are securely around me, not allowing me to break free.  His hands begin to shift and he starts to slap my perfectly shaped booty. 

He pulls us into a wooded area, dark with uncertainty and all the while I am fearing for my life, for my inners not to be sucked out of my fabulous body.  I stand there in a trance yet, as he stands back and looks at me with eyes full of lust and hunger for Moi. 

All I can think is… Succubus or Incubus?

Timing is everything, as I am saved by the bell, so to speak.

I manage to escape from his menacing clutches and flee the country, no …not really, but I do flee to my penthouse and begin to pray I never see him again.

In fact, whenever my handlers and network see him they text me: Succubus/Incubus sighting!  

Jesus Has Left The Building

Like any good story or movie, there is always plot twists, cliffhangers, roller coasters filled with emotions, and unanswered questions…

Perhaps it was because of my insecurities with relations of a personal nature? It’s funny really, because I can trust someone with my life, but not with my heart?

I was beginning to realize quickly on that Jesus …. well let’s just say this: he did not walk on water. It was more like he walked in vodka. 

I noticed more and more that he seemed to look for any excuse to have a libation.  For example: a hang nail, having to vacuum his 12 X 12 studio apartment, comb his shaved bald head, and many others…

Now Moi here, enjoys libations as well, but normally not until happy hour. 

With most things, there is always a price.  There is always the good with the not so good.

As fun as Jesus was at times to hang out with, he was also a tad controlling.  He came from a failed marriage, which had not yet been resolved, a job that would soon be over, and he would be without employment, no real place to call home, an 11 yr old daughter who is going on 17, and an arrogance that would rear its ugly head in the form of sentences which were unwarranted. 

As likeable and charming as he could be, he also made it easy to despise him as well.  I guess you could say it was a love/hate kind of relation.  I’ve always felt that 2 people, whether it be a friendship or relationship of any stature should bring out the best in each other, not the worst as well. 

I made a decision that would affect us both.  I gave him his reason to leave, the push he needed to remove himself.  He very much needs to find himself, find his own happiness, a place he can call home, and sometimes that place is home. 

As I reflect back on my time spent with Jesus, I can say this:  I learned things about myself, how to reconnect with my own inner emotions, communicate better, know that when my “gut” speaks to me, I need to listen.  Since my coma, everything is odd, different and yet still the same.  Perhaps it’s not everything else, perhaps I have changed? Perhaps I no longer need things or people to make me happy, perhaps I just need to be happy? 

Thawing Out...

We began talking, hanging out, going to happy hours, laughing at the stupidest things. 

It was really nice feeling like I was beginning to live again after languishing in that coma for so long.  It was because of him.  He pushed my boundaries, made me start to slowly thaw.  One would think it would be so easy to thaw a frozen heart? Right? It’s not.

The 2 most unlikely people in the world to meet and build a friendship.  A friendship that would go full steam ahead, blast on all cylinders, charge forth like a train wreck waiting to explode!

My walls were so very high since waking up, I slowly started remembering all the things I learned while in the coma. All the dark deceitful secrets that had been unleashed into my ears.  I was full of pain, loss, sorrow and icey venom coursing through my veins. 

No matter how much I pushed, and created distance between us, he would push that much harder to reach me, to reach my heart and hold it gently so that I could open up.

Hours turned into days, days turned into nights, many nights of endless talking, laughing, crying and just letting go, being me, being myself, flaws and all.

I only let the world see the polished, pretty, white Jackie-o, made up in high fashion Divine Man.  No one sees what’s underneath.  No one sees how high the walls really are, the fortress of ice that I have built.  No one saw it but him. Jesus, the taxi driver.

I would soon learn that it was not just I that was afraid to feel, to live, to care…

I had begun To Let It Go!

https://youtu.be/moSFlvxnbgk

Oh Jesus...the taxi driver!

Where do I begin? 

When one has been in a coma for over a year, wakes up, realizes that you have memory loss, your legs and your body are weak, your hair is long, your roots are hanging out, and all you can remember from being in a coma are bits and pieces of drug induced memories, or are they real?

After my first public appearance post my hospital stay, I have begun to put my life back together, moving forward. Alone.  No more sweet Diva Girl, no more Brady and his twin Bryan.  No more of the past. 

I still to this day walk with a cane every now and then, I kinda like it actually, as it accents my fabulous booty.  Anywho… Recently I went out to dinner and to have a glass of wine with my gal pal Amelia.  A little bit about her: she is Puerto Rican, a spit fire of crazy, a big heart, and a devilish laugh! 

There we were sitting off the side of the bar, relaxing and lounging by the pool, when something walks up and blocks my view of the moonlight.  I then look up to see the man wearing frayed black jeans, biker boots, a black lace up shirt(with a dragon design on it) and a black b-ball cap.  Amelia and I look at each other and start laughing.  I ask her… who called for the taxi?  You know I have a white limo?  She shook her head to tell me it was not her.  So I ask the man: Whatever can I do for you taxi driver? He smiles as he informs that he is there to meet me, and that he is NOT a taxi driver!  I inform him….Everyone here wants to meet Moi!  

He proceeds to introduce himself to me.  His name is Jesus.  As he says this I immediately begin to snicker and giggle at the thought of this.  Divine Man and Jesus!  HAhAAAhAAAAA!  As I giggle I knock my martini glass over and yell out: Jesus Christ, Almighty!   For the love of God!  Apparently Amelia and I are the only 2 laughing. 

Regardless Jesus is persistent and I think…well why not, let him stay for a drink. What can be the harm?

The night ends and Amelia and I get into the limo, only after Jesus pleads with me to call him and agree to go out with him for a libation in 2 days.

To Bidet Or Not to Bidet, That Is The Question?

So I recently had the pleasure of attending the opening of a new bistro(it was my first outing since the coma) for a brunch with about 75 of my closet peeps!

As I was sitting there enjoying this very special morning, just being there, alive, awake...signing autographs, having photo ops, air-kissing like crazy, getting a hug like every 5 minutes, and being the center of every ones universe again... all was right with the world.

I was walking with a cane as my legs had grown weak from being in the coma.  My cane was rather spectacular, as it was a metallic red along the shaft, and had a rather large Diamond on the top of it.  I was wearing a new outfit, which had been designed just for Moi!

My hair was down just past my perky tata's, my ass needed a slight lift, but with the help of duct tape and a new girdle I was looking radiant.  My skin was clear and line free as always.

I learned that while I was in the coma, the hospital staff would call me "Sleeping Beauty" as they checked on me.

Anywho...

Our food was delivered to our table and glasses were being poured full with bubbly and everyone was laughing and rejoicing all around me.  It was an exceptional moment to behold.

And then I saw him.  He appeared as if out of the air.

He smiled at me, nodded his head and placed his hand on his heart.  I felt my face grow warm and red, and then that old familiar sturrin' from down under...

As I arose from my seat, everyone stood up and wanted to assist Moi to the restroom.  The manager of the lovely bistro offered me the use of his private restroom.  I walked in smiling and wincing to try and look gracious and to stop the cramps... I locked the door behind me, and attempted to run to the toilet.  I made it just in time, I guess my inners were not yet working perfectly yet.  I sat there as I relieved myself, sweating and thinking......why am I always in a restaurant when this shit happens?

I soon realized in horror that there was no paper on the rolls.  WTF!   I had left my cell phone on the table, so  there would be no S.O.S.  I sat there thinking....mmmmm...Divine Man, you have been through far worse then this...so I thought... when is France, one must do what the French do... use a Bidet!   I very carefully lifted my sagging ass up on top of the sink and turned the warm water on.

I gotta say, it felt amazing!  It felt so good that I sat there for about 20 minutes or so....finally I realized that there were people on the other-side of the door pounding in frantic to make sure I was ok.

A Year Lost....Moving Forward

It's been 26 days since I opened my eyes on New Years Eve.  My memory is a bit fuzzy, confused and trying to remember what was just dreams versus reality.  Having to relive the loss of my Diva Girl all over again, coming home to an empty house, adjusting to life alone.

The night I woke up, in all the confusion of the Dr's and Nurses running around me and the machines beeping etc... I saw him standing there smiling and watching tears drip down his face.  In all the commotion all I could see was him.  Just him.  It was as if time had stopped, the space around us was just us, and yet he was so far from me at the same time.  I knew that he was with me, finally ...again after so long....

I was released from the hospital a few days later, my parents brought me to my penthouse, stayed with me until I forced them to leave.  I needed time alone...funny really, I was alone for a whole year, trapped in my body.  I guess I now needed to begin my life anew.  Reclaim the life I had, accept what had happened, what had changed and to embrace a new chapter.

A favorite quote of mine is:  When one door closes, another one opens!