Memorials: Remembering those we have lost!

What is Memorial Day ?

It is a day we are suppose to remember and celebrate the people, lives, and the heroes that have fallen on our behalf in battle and at war.  But I think it also should be a day to celebrate what we have, and what we have lost.  When I think about it, it is rather bittersweet.

My Mother, Tulips’ Father- Caesar was in WWII and received the bronze star for his bravery.  According to legend, he was a strong man who sported curly dark brown hair, wore glasses and was lost to early in life.  In fact my Mother and the family lost him to a severe heart attack on Christmas Day 1975.  Somehow in all the pain of his passing my Mother Tulips, discovered she was with child.   You have to understand my Mother was unable to conceive and then she and Big Daddy got the news….

Almost a year to the date of Grandpa Caesar’s passing….the Divine One was born.  So I guess the saying “ When Someone Dies, another is born.”  Even though we never were able to meet, I have spent a good part of my life dreaming about him, what he must have been like, would he have loved me?  And then Moi thinks….of course he would silly, who doesn't!  I also had this recurring dream about him.  In the dream I was at the old homestead with Grams( Mother Rose) and we would be waiting with excitement as we watched the clock tick, 1:00, then 2:00, finally it was 3:00 and that meant Grandpa was coming home from work!  I would finally get to see him!  And just as the door knob would start to turn everything would go black and I would wake up.  Sometimes I would just be standing there waiting at the door waiting for him to appear….  It felt like it was hours, and hours and no Grandpa.  Finally after many years of having this dream…. 3:00 hit!  In walked Grandpa just like I always thought he would, he looked like the pictures!  He was so real, strong, handsome and had a twinkle in his eye, he made me feel like that twinkle was all for me!  As I sit here and type, my eyes are watering, I have goose bumps spreading all over my body thinking about that moment!  He hugged me tightly and called me “sparkle.”  After that last dream, in which we met and I got to feel the love that I was robbed of, the dream had come to it’s final chapter.

I saw him again a few years ago, this time he was coming to take my Grams home with him.  In fact I met him in the hallway of the rehab center that she was at.  He looked at me, put his hand on my left shoulder, and as I stood there with tears running down my face, my heart breaking he told me: “She is ok, she is going home with me finally.  You sparkle, are much stronger then you even realize,” We will always be here with you.  Then he walked down the hall and entered her room.

Later that morning, I asked my Tulips whom the white haired guy was that went into Grams’ room…. She asked what white haired man?  I said the man with the white curly hair and the twinkle in his eyes.

So this Memorial Day I am celebrating and honoring those people that I have lost, loved and will always be here in spirit with me!

“When one door closes, another one opens”

Taboo, Can a friend also be your lover?

Dear Taboo,

Moi feels that you need to give it more time before you make a decision as big as this.  First you need to let your friendship develop more, secondly, you need to let “him” figure out what is happening with this other guy, and as hard as it is, just be his friend.  YOU don’t want to be the rebound.  Or cause any conflict for him or anymore for yourself.

Life is never easy, and nor is love.  Love is brilliant and messy.  It sneaks up on us, takes over and sometimes with surrender, and sometimes it is dangerous for us to do so.

Ask yourself, what does your life, your soul need more…. A real genuine friend, or a lover?

And yes, I do feel that your friend can also be your lover.  Your lover should be your best friend, have your back, walk beside you, make you laugh, cry with you, listen, care, and then some…

Or you can tell him now, which personally I think is premature.  Sometimes in life we need to let the cards fall where they will.

Enjoy it for what it is as this moment.  He might very well be feeling the same about you?  And his other struggle is that he just started “seeing” someone.

Hang tight.  Be his friend first and foremost.

Divine Man

Is this Friendship Taboo?

Dear Divine Man,

I recently met a guy at a club.  I was with a gal pal, and he was with another guy. He and I engaged in a very friendly and entertaining conversation.  During the conversation I learned that he was casually “seeing” the guy he was there with.  They just started “seeing” each other about 2-3 weeks ago.  So I thought “he seems cool, god knows I would like another good friend in life.” We proceeded to exchange phone numbers.

The next morning I sent him a text: good morning, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.  He quickly replied:  I was just thinking about you, and was going to text you the same thing.  He has text-ed me daily, multiple times, and we have had more then one person comment:  You two should be dating, you are happy when near each other, or, you two make a very cute couple.

Needless to say, we have gone out, been chilling, laughing, talking about life, love and goals.  We established right away, while out for dinner the first night after meeting, that we both have been used, cheated on, and lied to.  Neither of us wants to feel that again.  See, in the gay world it seems that guys think that if they have sex, that…that makes them friends.  Where as I do not think or feel that way.  I guess I am old fashioned, and feel that guys can be friends without sealing the deal.

Here is my dilemma: I like him, I am really liking him, more then I should allow myself to.  He is “seeing” someone, and I value him as a person, and this new found friendship that is being created.  SO how do I handle this, and my growing feelings?  He has expressed to me that he is not all that happy with this guy, and that it’s more about business then love.  So do I make my feelings known or do I hide them and never voice them ever and just try and be his friend?

Help Me,

Taboo!

The Power of the Rosary And The Handsome Client!

“Picture It” A mildly warm winter day in paradise, the sun is shining, the breeze is lingering from the bay, and I am at work!  Which is why I have not wrote any “misadventures” as of late.  I am busy creating and designing floral masterpieces!  

(On a side note, my girlfriend MiMi sent me an email that she received from another person this week, it was a rosary prayer(she prays the rosary each morning over cigs and coffee) and it instructed me to recite the prayer and then ask the “rosary” a favor or for help.  So, Moi asked it:  Please let someone discover me, my phenomenal talent and help me rise to power, and success.  If I send it on to 6 others, within 4 days I will know the power of the rosary) 

Anywho, Moi is at work, looking kinda ruff, as it is my last day for the week.  So naturally as I was getting ready Friday morning, I thought “ummmm, I am not shaving today, and my hair is too long, so I am not doing much with it” and left the house, thankfully though I was wearing my “skinny ass jeans” and a black polo, unbuttoned.  

So there I am at my design counter, with one of the Managers talking about ? What I do not even remember, when I hear a man’s voice say:  Can you tell me who made the OZ piece in the front window?  I looked up and over to my left to see a very, very handsome man standing there.  He smiled as he asked me again, I replied with:  Why Sir, I designed it…You like it, I can tell.  Which means you need to buy it, as it is a very limited edition piece.  
He proceeded to tell me how exceptional my designs are.  Then the Manager chimed in and made the whole conversation all about her.  That’s right folks, all about her!  Can you imagine, someone doing that to Moi?  Nor can I, but she did.  Which as I watched the man watching me, trying not to listen to her, he eventually cut her off and said good-bye.  

She walked off then, and within 5-10 minutes later the man was back.  He was wearing black slacks, red and black socks, Spectators(black/white gangster shoes) a red sweater, and a black pea coat.  His features were dark, his hair was salt & pepper, his chest was solid and his lips were full, his goatee was well trimmed, and his eyes were intense as they looked at Moi.  He asked me about my designs, and continued to flatter me.  

I noticed we was slowly making himself closer to me, inch by inch.  Until we were rather close and he then presented me with a business card.  On the back of it was his direct line, and he told me almost in a whisper:  Be wise and call me!  He owns a prestigious event/design firm.  

I leaned into him and asked him: when would you like me to call you exactly?  He replied with… 8pm tonight.

I can’t say just yet what was discussed on the phone, but I can say this, I am not even Catholic, however I am going to buy me a whole case of rosaries!

Holy Shit!

The Fabulous La Riv

As you know, each year Moi goes all out for Halloween.  As I look back at years past and the costumes…The Phantom Of The Opera, Where’s Waldo, Peter Pan, Winafred Sanderson(Hocus Pocus), Cinderella, Carol Channings’ Hello Dolly, Maleficent and this past year, the Evil Queen.  Each year I design my costume, and the past few years, a dear friend of mine, named Lyle, aka La Riv, has brought my costumes to life.

He is extremely talented, and we never use a pattern, which he loves because it challenges him creatively to create my vision along with his for each costume!

His talent does not end there, by day he is a Graphic Designer, by night he is a sewing wizard!  La Riv specializes in Renaissance attire, Pirate garb, and more…he is a cross between Yule Brenner and Mr. Clean!

If you ever need a costume, etc… created for you, look him up on Facebook as La Riv!

The Toeless Armpit Licker!

As you know Moi has been a few dates through the years…

Some have been explosive, some have been blind, some have been ghostly, and some have even had missing parts!  Which brings to mind “The Toeless Armpit Licker!”

“Picture It” a sunny filled warm summer day, a gentle breeze is arousing my perfect skin as I walk along the lake.  As I stroll along I notice a man, a rather attractive man no less.  He is sitting on a park bench.  He is wearing fitted jean shorts, a white sleeveless shirt and walking shoes.  He is slender, with short dark hair, a handle-bar moustache, piercing dark blue eyes and wire framed glasses.  His skin is tanned and his arms are strong with muscles.  Naturally, Moi thinks “I wonder if he knows what time it is?” so I walk up to him, in my short red shorts, white t-top, and red walking shoes.  My hair is glistening with perspiration as it trickles down my tan back and all the way down to the crack of my perky booty.  I approach the handsome stranger and ask him “kind handsome sir, would you know what time it is?” and he must have been reading my mind, because he answered with “I think it is time I took you home and got you in the shower so I can wash you all over!”  Well Moi just stood there and blushed, stumbling for the perfect reply.  I replied with “my, my sir you are forward indeed, I like that in a man that knows how to make full use of his time!”

After sitting on the park bench with him, talking and laughing for over two hours, I decided to ask him to come to my place while I shower, alone, and then we could go out for dinner.  Needless to say, dinner ran a bit late, some intense necking got in the way!

After a few more dates, which were all very innocent, and fun I agreed to come to his home for a weekend and meet his friends.  He lived in a nearby city and so I went there with much anticipation!

The weekend was going along perfectly, his friends were funny, welcoming, and we all seemed to be having a great time!  It was approaching dusk and we decided to head back to his place.  After another intense make out session, he asked me if he could finally give me that “washing”… I thought what the hell!  As I watched him remove his shorts, g-string, shirt…Moi thought “so very nice!”

Then he removes his shoes, followed by his socks, he then walks to the bathroom to start the shower.  As he walks, I notice he has a slight odd walk.  It appears he is walking on his heels.  Oh well, maybe the floor is cold or something?  I undress and walk into the shower to join him, and as we lather up, Moi accidentally drops the soap.  It really is an accident, I bend down to find the soap, and while I am down there I notice that he is missing the exact same toe on each foot.  In that moment my mind starts spinning and thinking “what would Seinfeld do?”

After the shower, he starts to dry me off,  from top to bottom.  I return the favor and as I get down to his 8 toes I can’t help but be bothered by this.  Although on the other hand, his feet were faster to dry off then mine.  Maybe missing a few toes is a good thing?  Moi then excuses myself and goes to the other bathroom in his house, I lock the door and call Tulips.  I says…Tulips, he is missing a toe on each foot!  She says not to worry, because even if he puts his foot in his mouth, he won’t choke(due to the missing toes)!

Moi then returns to the bedroom…

We then slip into bed and he begins to kiss me.  All is going good, when all of a sudden he lifts my arms up and begins to lick my armpits!  At first I just lay there and think “what the hell is this freak doing to me?” and then I think is this guy for real, he is actually licking my armpits!  OMFG!  Is this really happening?

Needless to say all did not work out for us, and we parted ways.

When I think back to this tale, of The Toeless Armpit Licker, I realize, it is not the size of a man’s shoe that is important, but how many toes he has!

The Healing Power Of The Season!

Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at the Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin . The child climbed up on his lap, holding a picture of a little girl. "Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend?" Your sister?
"Yes, Santa," he replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly.
Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
"She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!"
The child exclaimed. "She misses you," he added softly.
Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas. When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to help the
Child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but halted. "What is it?" Santa asked warmly.
"Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa, but ..." the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors.
"The girl in the photograph .. My granddaughter .. well, you see .. she has leukemia and isn't expected to make it even through the Holidays," she said through tear-filled eyes. "Is there any way, Santa .... any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa."
Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in that Hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart, "this is the Least I can do."
When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant location manager how to get to Children's Hospital.
"Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day. "C'mon .... I'll take you there," Rick said softly.
Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa.
They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall.
Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed. The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's brother he had met earlier that day.
A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead.
And another woman who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with weary, sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah.
Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!"
"Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him, IV tubes in tact.
Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son -- 9 years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes.
His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears.
Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room. As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "thank you" as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes.
Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year.
As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands. Santa looked
intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels.
"Oh , yes, Santa ... I do!" she exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going to ask that angels watch over you, "he said.
Laying one hand on the child's head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed.
He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease.
He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing softly,
"Silent Night, Holy Night - all is calm, all is bright."
The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all.
When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail, small hands in his own.
"Now, Sarah," he said authoritatively, "you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!"
He knew it was risky proclaiming that, to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he "had" to.
He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE.
"Yes, Santa!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright.
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room.
Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed. Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and rushed to Santa's side to thank him.
"My only child is the same age as Sarah," he explained quietly.
"This is the least I could do." They nodded with understanding and hugged him.
One year later, Santa Mark was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks
went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap.
"Hi, Santa! Remember me?!"
"Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her.
After all, the secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the "only" child in the world at that moment.
"You came to see me in the hospital last year!" Santa's jaw dropped.
Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before. He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.
That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus.
He had witnessed --and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of hope. This precious little child was healed.
Cancer-free. Alive and well.
He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, "Thank You Father. ' Tis a very, Merry Christmas!"

Author Unknown