<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286</id><updated>2011-07-30T14:57:12.626-07:00</updated><category term='Homophobes'/><category term='Life Lesson'/><category term='interrogation'/><category term='horror movies'/><category term='my luck'/><category term='Questions'/><category term='Scooby Gang'/><category term='strange relationships'/><category term='Friendship'/><category term='step it up and dance'/><category term='Something for the fellas'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='Hot mess encounters'/><category term='Man Crush'/><category term='life'/><category term='b****h'/><title type='text'>Black Queens Logic</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>40</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-4333011963169891131</id><published>2010-02-21T12:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T13:31:06.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Black To Be A Sex Partner?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S4Gd68uq-cI/AAAAAAAAAG4/5nI6XUzBFAQ/s1600-h/170px-Libertad_angela.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S4Gd68uq-cI/AAAAAAAAAG4/5nI6XUzBFAQ/s320/170px-Libertad_angela.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440803460900125122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just when you think you have heard every indignity and offensive comment that can be heaped upon you, life finds a way to give you one more shot to stomach...My best friend and I went out a couple of weeks ago to a straight bar, where an 80's cover band was playing. If you have been following best friend Chris' blog as well as mine, you know full well that we are rabid fans of almost anything 80's, and this night was no different. The air was alive with the sounds of " Jenny 867-5309', "Just Like Heaven", and the like...In short, it was one of those magical nights in Bakersfield where you are having a fantastic time, in spite of the location and the people around you. The only thing that really threw the night off were that the notorious Q.U.I.L.T.E.R., and his douchebag/new boyfriend Mr.  Potato Head were in attendance, and attempting to make my BFF feel bad. &lt;br /&gt;  I have to give credit to my best friend. He was able to completely ignore the "floor show" being done for his benefit, and enjoy himself. Well the night was a total bust for Potato Head and he was not happy. But at the same time, he could not openly go after my BFF. So this was his new ploy.&lt;br /&gt; As we were outside the club cooling ourselves off (as most clubs in Bakersfield are too cheap to pay for air conditioning), Potato Head shared with us that he was not into "dark meat", and only wants "white meat". I fired off a humorous comeback, and left it at that..&lt;br /&gt;After this had happened, I had to wonder: "what was this all about?" I expect many of these comments from some white gay men in this area, but now here I am hearing this from a Latin Men as well....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did it become ok  to make these kinds of comments to black gay men?  I find it so hypocritical for so many gay men to talk about equal rights for gay people, and be bigoted towards gay people of color.. Amazing!  And here I am hearing this from another gay man of color..Unbelievable!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-4333011963169891131?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/4333011963169891131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=4333011963169891131&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/4333011963169891131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/4333011963169891131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2010/02/too-black-to-be-sex-partner.html' title='Too Black To Be A Sex Partner?'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S4Gd68uq-cI/AAAAAAAAAG4/5nI6XUzBFAQ/s72-c/170px-Libertad_angela.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-2432170962273789411</id><published>2010-02-21T12:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T12:52:14.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goonies Never Say Die!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S4GVqdfjl3I/AAAAAAAAAGw/roZ_OL7qyRo/s1600-h/goonadventure.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 82px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S4GVqdfjl3I/AAAAAAAAAGw/roZ_OL7qyRo/s320/goonadventure.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440794381544298354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of the earliest things I learned as a child of the 70's growing up in the 80's was that I was never going to be one of the "popular kids". You know; the ones that have all the attention lavished on them, and have all the other kids wanting to be like them and/or be their friends. I learned very quickly on from them that I would never be accepted by them, and would  always have to be on guard when they were in my area.&lt;br /&gt;Through all of this, I worked hard to create a place where I could be accepted, and surrounded myself with people who could truly love me for me, and support me in my journey through life. I also made a promise to myself during those rough times that I would be smarter, happier, and more comfortable than any of the "A-Listers" that made my growing up so challenging. And for the most part, I succeeded.  Thank goodness for comic books, horror movies, music, and my small band of misfit friends at the time that made so much of that painful time so bearable.&lt;br /&gt;  Fast forward to now: I am still struggling to get myself back on track, finish grad school, and be the man I need to be for my family and friends. What I have come to realize, is that gay world  and the world in general, are very much like my childhood. There are all sorts of messages out there that tell us  that we do not belong, or that we will never be "good enough".&lt;br /&gt;  I think that the tasks falls to all of us who never "fit in" to find the people and things that reaffirm who you are, and replenish your strength and resolve to be the best person you can be.. I think that is the message I read into the Goonies, and think that is the message my friends and I  put out when we come together.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you my friends, for putting up with my drama, shortcomings, and for my triumphs as well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-2432170962273789411?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/2432170962273789411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=2432170962273789411&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/2432170962273789411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/2432170962273789411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2010/02/goonies-never-say-die.html' title='Goonies Never Say Die!'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S4GVqdfjl3I/AAAAAAAAAGw/roZ_OL7qyRo/s72-c/goonadventure.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5233254509118453845</id><published>2010-02-10T17:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T18:09:15.644-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life Lesson'/><title type='text'>All the Single Gay Men, Put Your Hands Up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S3NcGQ3d45I/AAAAAAAAAGo/jjliwnyS_7U/s1600-h/beyonce-new.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 170px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S3NcGQ3d45I/AAAAAAAAAGo/jjliwnyS_7U/s320/beyonce-new.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436790437842903954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I knew there was  a reason why I was choosing to be single! After coming out of an 8 year relationship, I thought I would play it smart this time and play the field for the first time since my 20's (also called my mis-spent youth). This has been my credo since I ended things; don't get caught up in the feelings, and give my heart first. I also promised myself that I would not fall into my old patterns of trying to "fix" relationships at the cost of my self worth and getting my needs met.&lt;br /&gt;   Well sure enough, a few years later here I am in the process of seriously dating this man that I will only refer to as the Shrinker. I began dating this character just before my eyes went really bad. Initially I thought we had so much in common: he worked in the mental health field for a number of years, he is well-versed in pop culture, and there is a passion to him that takes my breath away to this very day. He recently moved to this area  from Washington state, and needless to say we hit it off almost immediately. It felt good to have someone that I could connect with, without having to explain all the  craziness I am going through.&lt;br /&gt;  And sure enough, as with everything with me, things got crazy.  As I have shared with anyone who will listen, I am trying to balance all these roles I have for myself,  and sometimes I am not available to the people I care about most. Truth be told, I am only beginning to try to be more consistent in posting at least one  blog before the month is gone. It has only been 2 months, and the possessiveness has started. "Why can't you spend the night" "I need constant assurance from you" " When you head down the San Luis Obispo, I want you to take me with you."&lt;br /&gt;  To be honest, I told him my situation, and expressed my hesitation about starting a relationship at this time, because of all the demands on me. At the time, he said that he understood, and was sympathetic to me. Now come all these demands.  But then I have to ask what is he giving me?&lt;br /&gt;I could say his heart, but let's keep it real; it has only been two months!  And as for the SLO, I take off at 4:30 in the morning and head directly to prison. Where is he going to be all day, in the prison parking lot? PLEASE! Oh, and I left this part out: He is still in the CLOSET!!! I seem to be a magnet for every closeted gay man with unresolved attachment issues....&lt;br /&gt;     I know my friends have been on me about settling down with a guy, and trying the whole relationship thing again. But with prospects like these, I wonder if I not happier being single, sexy and free? I am still picking all the wrong guys, and trying to make it work.. You would think with  several years of being single, three years of therapeutic training and $27,000 in student loans I would be smarter. Well I guess back to the drawing board.. AM I WRONG not to want go through this all over again, or should I stick it out and see what is going on with this guy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5233254509118453845?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5233254509118453845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5233254509118453845&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5233254509118453845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5233254509118453845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2010/02/all-single-gay-men-put-your-hands-up.html' title='All the Single Gay Men, Put Your Hands Up!'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S3NcGQ3d45I/AAAAAAAAAGo/jjliwnyS_7U/s72-c/beyonce-new.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5870079006094884703</id><published>2010-01-28T10:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T11:00:33.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can (Almost) See Clearly Now the Rain Is Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S2HVrv5qnaI/AAAAAAAAAGg/7UDK16X4M20/s1600-h/mrmagoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S2HVrv5qnaI/AAAAAAAAAGg/7UDK16X4M20/s320/mrmagoo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431857573154954658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Things have really been looking (pun) up since I had my eye surgery. I can see (at least) out of one eye, and am scheduled to have the other one done the first of February. I never had any idea how much my sight meant to me...I was off for three weeks, from grad school, work, and my internship, because I was unable to drive, read and write documents, do all the things I was required to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having all this time to think about things really forced me to look at things in my life, and  try to make changes. For starters, I am learning that I am a good person at my core, and sometimes I need to believe that I have all the tools  I need to be the person I need to be. For the longest time, I have been carrying around all this  drama about my failed relationship, not graduating at the time I wanted to, and not feeling that I was "good enough" to love me the way I needed to be loved. I am so used to owning all the bad stuff in my life, that I often fail to "see" all the good things come in. So as a result, I feel buried in the rubble that is my life. So now I trying to walk a different path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have begun the task of simplifying my life, and taking on things that I really feel passionate about. I have also made a promise to myself to love the people that care about me REALLY hard, and let go of all the hurt of pain I have been holding onto,  because over time it becomes what your life is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am gearing up complete the final leg of my graduate school  adventure, and am looking forward to what my future holds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5870079006094884703?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5870079006094884703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5870079006094884703&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5870079006094884703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5870079006094884703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-can-almost-see-clearly-now-rain-is.html' title='I Can (Almost) See Clearly Now the Rain Is Gone'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/S2HVrv5qnaI/AAAAAAAAAGg/7UDK16X4M20/s72-c/mrmagoo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5106480438746604726</id><published>2009-12-24T17:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T18:25:26.141-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Too  Old For  This !</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SzQYq2mT4ZI/AAAAAAAAAGY/dPukCk_I7YE/s1600-h/mommiedearest12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 90px; height: 90px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SzQYq2mT4ZI/AAAAAAAAAGY/dPukCk_I7YE/s320/mommiedearest12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418983376123322770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I don't know if it just me, but I  have waxing poetic aboout my life in recent months. I think a lot of it has to do with  the fact that I will soon be turning 40 in the next weeks. For the most part I have never let a number, my waist size, or the way I looked ever  bring me down or feel less about myself. And then 40 came!&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling that some of the way I a  feeling has to do with finding out that I been diagnosed with premature cataracts (at 30!)  and some recent health issues I had earlier this  year. This combined with my crazy sxhedule has forced me to realized that I am not infallible or unstoppable. I know that common wisdom tells us that this feeling of being invulnerable is supposed to be common  and pass  in adolescence, but I have also found this to be true amongst some of the gay men I have encountered Thi feeling that we can overcome time as well as other limitations.&lt;br /&gt;   I have had the distict pleasure this year to see that I am not impervious, and that I should not allow my pride to prevent me from accepting help from the people that care about me.  For that, I thank you Chris, Tim, Paul, and yes even  Juan for helping me to see this..There are some things that you can learn in graduate school, but there other things that you have to learn in life.  I am an eager student for this lesson I had to learn.&lt;br /&gt;  I am not sure if this is my midlife crisis, or my trasnsition into older gay, but I feel as though there is a change that is taking place within me. I feel a great deal of trepidation, but I also realize that this is something we all (gay or straight) have to go through. I have  a big patch of gray in my haor, my body is different, and my eyes don't respond the way they used to. But I am still here for the party, and whatever things I need to  go through in this new year. I am in this body, and loo k forward to this new phase in my life..&lt;br /&gt;   Now I have gotten that part out of the way, let me tell you what I won't be doing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Buying Abercrombie and Fitch to feel  "hot"- They never have black people in most of their photos and most of their stuff is overpriced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2, Chasing younger men just for youth's sake. - What will be able to talk about? I am all  about Fame  (the original movie) not thar new piece of crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Having elctive surgeries - I hate getting cut on  accident,. Why would I do it on purpose...Please/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Spend outrageous amounts of money - I will have $30,000 in debt from grad school.. Already done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Sleeping with  people to feel better about myself -  One of my cardinal rules when I first came out. I have never done it, and I pray I never will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Letting  go of my childhood sense of wonder - It one of the things I have held onto, and binds me to  many of mymclosest friends. I think it is one of the things that will keep me fiesty until the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother once told me that: Everything will change around  you. The only thing you can hold onto are your word and who you are&gt;" This is  what I take with me into the new year and beyond.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5106480438746604726?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5106480438746604726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5106480438746604726&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5106480438746604726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5106480438746604726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/12/im-too-old-for-this.html' title='I&apos;m Too  Old For  This !'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SzQYq2mT4ZI/AAAAAAAAAGY/dPukCk_I7YE/s72-c/mommiedearest12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-6958985277721638867</id><published>2009-12-16T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T11:23:22.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strength, Courage, and Wisdom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/Sykq7xSYhVI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/QFkH6mtXNuM/s1600-h/alex1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415907233220822354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 276px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 189px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/Sykq7xSYhVI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/QFkH6mtXNuM/s320/alex1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What am I dong? It is coming to the last few months of grad school, I am just coming into the home stretch of my internship and I feeling like such a mess. Was all of the things I went through really worth it? These past 6 months have really forced me to take a hard look at what has been my motivation for change. I have really enjoyed the process of leaqrning more and more about myself, and becoming  slf aware of the troubling  patterms which have impacted my life. I've learned that I have a great capacity for compassion, and often following my heart has led me down paths I should have known better. Just this year alone I have faced; a debilitating illness. and terrifying health scare, betrayal at work, and a soul ctushing depression. And the one thing that I have always counted  on  was my own inner strength and resiliency, but most of this time it was not enough. I am just coming out of the nice end of the tunnel. and I am just starting to get my footing again. It just seems as though there are to many haters in my life right now. and I want to have my strength back to face them all. And now I am dealing with the fact that I recently found out that I have premature cataracts, and will be having introcular surgert on both eyes next months. Here's to better next year. and me coming out the better for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-6958985277721638867?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/6958985277721638867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=6958985277721638867&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6958985277721638867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6958985277721638867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/12/strength-courage-and-wisdom.html' title='Strength, Courage, and Wisdom'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/Sykq7xSYhVI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/QFkH6mtXNuM/s72-c/alex1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5605229889275205460</id><published>2009-08-28T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T19:57:07.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's Gonna Check Me, Boo?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SpiPslTtitI/AAAAAAAAAGA/1iNyt8pQsjw/s1600-h/sheree1_blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375204151358491346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 76px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 76px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SpiPslTtitI/AAAAAAAAAGA/1iNyt8pQsjw/s320/sheree1_blog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;Yes, I am back again...I cannot believe that it has been over seven months since I last put anything on here!!&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It is not as though there have been no adventures along the way!! Work drama, School drama, and my own medical emergencies this summer....I am about to embark on my last year of graduate school, and I am feeling a little somber, a little wiser, and a LOT older (as the silver streak in the middle hair reminds me!).  But as things start to pick up speed, I am so nervous about what is going to happen next with school and all...On the work front: Work is Work..I have had my share of battles there, but even though I am under a lot of stress, I am not about to back down to ANYBODY that is trying to bring me down as I am making my way...After going through what I have went through this summer, I have learned so much more about myself that I ever could have from school. I am so glad that I had my friends to go through it with me..It is because of them that nobody can EVER check me....Thanks, Scoobies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5605229889275205460?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5605229889275205460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5605229889275205460&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5605229889275205460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5605229889275205460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/08/whos-gonna-check-me-boo.html' title='Who&apos;s Gonna Check Me, Boo?'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SpiPslTtitI/AAAAAAAAAGA/1iNyt8pQsjw/s72-c/sheree1_blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-2441955882584764084</id><published>2009-03-08T21:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T21:36:04.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SbSY2p1lHLI/AAAAAAAAAF4/6ZMxvlV7iYE/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311037925287599282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 77px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SbSY2p1lHLI/AAAAAAAAAF4/6ZMxvlV7iYE/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it has been a while since my last posting, but going to grad school and living your life really takes the wind out of your sails. For starters, trying to do two jobs at your office (Case Manager, and Therapist) is  not something I would recommend to anyone. That, and reading several chapters a week, writing papers, and taking quizzes. I don't know whether I am coming or going.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;     But the one thing I have learned from all of this, is that I go through some much od this alone.  I  know I have support, and people that care about me, but when the push comes to shove, I have to take care of it on my own. I was watching Buffy (one one of my breaks, and it is the last episode on Season 2 when she has to face Angel by herself.  He has her on her knees and he is boasting how he taken things away away from her and what could she do now?  I am standing on that same precipice, having no job security, no idea how long I can keep running at this pace, and will I ever find the man I am supposed to be with. Things are coming me at me harder and faster than I ever thought possible....And I have to face them ...alone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-2441955882584764084?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/2441955882584764084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=2441955882584764084&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/2441955882584764084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/2441955882584764084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/03/little-things.html' title='The Little Things'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SbSY2p1lHLI/AAAAAAAAAF4/6ZMxvlV7iYE/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-1274771918292179758</id><published>2009-01-13T20:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T20:23:03.878-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='b****h'/><title type='text'>My First Day Back at Work - How Dreadful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SW1mzvk840I/AAAAAAAAAFY/g3Rvz5o5YoM/s1600-h/real-housewives-atlanta1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290998176361014082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SW1mzvk840I/AAAAAAAAAFY/g3Rvz5o5YoM/s320/real-housewives-atlanta1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It never fails..You have a wonderful time of from work; enjoying the company of friends and seeing what the world has to offer. You take it all in and find the idea of  daytime television and nights out with the friends more to your liking.. But then the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fantasy&lt;/span&gt; ends, and you have to go back to work...THEN it hits you: I have all this work I need to catch up on, and the things you thought were done were not....This is what happened to me. I thought it was going to be smooth sailing..Boy, was I wrong!!! Well now the heat is on, and I am back on the treadmill.. There are certain co-workers you love to hate, and there is one in particular that I will definitely remember. The lambs have not stopped screaming, Clarice!!!&lt;br /&gt;There's a tightrope, between me and you........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-1274771918292179758?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/1274771918292179758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=1274771918292179758&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/1274771918292179758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/1274771918292179758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-first-day-back-at-work-how-dreadful.html' title='My First Day Back at Work - How Dreadful'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SW1mzvk840I/AAAAAAAAAFY/g3Rvz5o5YoM/s72-c/real-housewives-atlanta1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-7810355976351886130</id><published>2009-01-11T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T16:42:01.708-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friendship'/><title type='text'>One Night In Bako</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWqL7sSyzQI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/jgYqsySkSJU/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290194569918598402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 88px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWqL7sSyzQI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/jgYqsySkSJU/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trust  you, one night in Bangkok has nothing on one night in Bako. Let me set the picture this: it was  42 degrees last night, and there were light columns of fog rolling in, and the Scooby Gang was trying to figure out how to spend this rather chilly Saturday evening. There was talk that there was a bar in Bakersfield that plays 80's music on Saturday, and the bar was gay-friendly. You put those two things together, and you know quite a few people would be there. The problem with this is, since it's Bakersfield, things are far less then advertised. Well we made our weary way and were pleased with some of the music being played. There were a few people there, and they were interesting to say the least. A shot, and a couple of Amaretto Sours  later, I was in the moment. That was when things turned craptastic.. The freaky DJ started playing some steaming crap I didn't think was a good fit for the 80's and we were off. That was when we ended up at the gay bar in town: the Casablanca. Don't get me wrong, I love thumping beats as well as the next guy, but here it is all the same, and there was no variety. Just one of my many problems. I ended up dancing and waiting for the night to end, and it did. I thought to myself: "It was an ok night. I got to dance, and hang out with my gay mafia. " That was when  our newest members suggested we go to a house party.&lt;br /&gt;   I am an old man, and have been to my share of house parties, both good, and mostly worse in this town. So&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;I was not the most receptive to this idea. After getting turned around, the group made it to the house party. The people that were hosting were a cute couple, and the party was started..I am not usually a big drinker, but I threw all inhibitions to the wind and took full advantage of the party. It was so good to see my best friend laughing and being so much like his old self, and my other close friends having a good time as well. The party ended around 4 am, and I came away with a new appreciation for house parties, and the guys I am proud to call my friends...Viva Scooby Gang!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-7810355976351886130?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/7810355976351886130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=7810355976351886130&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/7810355976351886130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/7810355976351886130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-night-in-bako.html' title='One Night In Bako'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWqL7sSyzQI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/jgYqsySkSJU/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-3648555926699393526</id><published>2009-01-09T15:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T15:56:45.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bald Faced Truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWfg-uodFjI/AAAAAAAAAFI/pPdBTHJIyy4/s1600-h/Lex_Luthor_in_Crisis_on_Infinite_Earths_-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289443655644157490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWfg-uodFjI/AAAAAAAAAFI/pPdBTHJIyy4/s320/Lex_Luthor_in_Crisis_on_Infinite_Earths_-9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yes, I know it is supposed to be "Bold Faced", but this is more appropriate for my mood.&lt;br /&gt;   It is just about the last couple of days before I return to work and school. I went to my first class last night and felt a little better about things, and was amazed about the grades I earned last quarter. When I get in these kinds of moods, I just don want the momentum to slip away from me...I was getting some things done today when I decided to give my best friend Chris a call. He told me that he was going to get his hair cut. I decided then and there that it would be good for me to get a haircut as well. To see my hair close up, it has been big and bushy for some time. IN fact, it has been so bad my sisters have had jokes for me. Fredrick Douglas is one that comes to mind.&lt;br /&gt;   After some some soul searching, I walked in and asked for a haircut. 15 minutes and some shivering later, my hair is completely gone! I have never gotten my hair cut so short as an adult. So here I am 39, and bald....I am just writing off as one more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;transition&lt;/span&gt;. I have had funny looking fades, twists, and dreadlocks that were to my back. I know I  am clean &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;shaving&lt;/span&gt;. Just looking forward to see what happen next on my journey where my outward appearance is starting to echo my interior &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;metamorphosis&lt;/span&gt;. Who knows?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-3648555926699393526?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/3648555926699393526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=3648555926699393526&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/3648555926699393526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/3648555926699393526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/01/bald-faced-truth.html' title='The Bald Faced Truth'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWfg-uodFjI/AAAAAAAAAFI/pPdBTHJIyy4/s72-c/Lex_Luthor_in_Crisis_on_Infinite_Earths_-9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-1869045758991169574</id><published>2009-01-08T11:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T12:12:59.091-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my luck'/><title type='text'>A Simple Kind of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWZWRP5TqXI/AAAAAAAAAFA/A4r8qinbJG4/s1600-h/300px-Legion_of_Doom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289009666717886834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWZWRP5TqXI/AAAAAAAAAFA/A4r8qinbJG4/s320/300px-Legion_of_Doom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; For the last three days, I have playing this song by No Doubt over and over again..It really applies to my life at the moment. I have always wanted a kid, a fantastic career, and a man I could truly call the love of my life. But the older I get, the more selfish and jaded I get.  I look around the vast landscape, and see so many people who just let things happen to them or complain that things have been done to them. I have never thought I fit in either of those categories, but more and more I feel like everything is getting so complicated in my life. The first week of Winter Quarter began this week, and I am the most disorganized I have ever been and I am feeling so overwhelmed. And it's only the beginning. I have always been a control freak, but having no control  over things is really sending me over. I am so glad I had a chance to take some time away from work to start putting things in perspective. I have no control over what happens to my ex, my job, or my friends, but I can try to make different for me....I  will keep you posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-1869045758991169574?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/1869045758991169574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=1869045758991169574&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/1869045758991169574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/1869045758991169574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/01/simple-kind-of-life.html' title='A Simple Kind of Life'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWZWRP5TqXI/AAAAAAAAAFA/A4r8qinbJG4/s72-c/300px-Legion_of_Doom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-6584407325608550032</id><published>2009-01-05T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:16:24.991-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>I want to be invulnerable</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWKrB54vwAI/AAAAAAAAAE4/l3IuRiRIdao/s1600-h/250px-IconM0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287976961693433858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWKrB54vwAI/AAAAAAAAAE4/l3IuRiRIdao/s320/250px-IconM0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There has been so much going on, that I haven't had to the time write. Or maybe it has been so much, I just didn't want to write it all down. Sometimes when you write things down, it takes on a life of its own. I just had my 39&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday, and I have been looking over the course of my life. I am single (again), and looking a dating pool that consists of immature men in their 20's who have an overwhelming sense of entitlements, and older men in their 30's and up, who want physical perfection and have nothing between their ears to offer in the ways of romance. It just seems as though nobody is interested in courtship at this point in time.&lt;br /&gt;    Don't get me wrong; I LOVE to get down and dirty as the next guy, (and believe you me, I HAVE!) But there is nothing there to make me believe that  I can have something that I could call a relationship. And I should be used to that. It is hard to date in Bakersfield, but it is harder when you're a black gay man. Here are the frequent comments you hear: " (1)I like you a lot, but my family would freak if I were dating a black guy. (2) I just wanted to see what it was like to be with a black. you know what they say." I am really selling this town, right?&lt;br /&gt;On the other front, I am still dealing with stuff from my ex. He had to be hospitalized Saturday night, and is back in the ICU. He is asking for me, and wanting me to come up there. Once, there would have been a time I would have run up there without asking, and know I am questioning the whole thing. I got into a negative exchange with his neighbor about not coming, but she does not know the whole story, or even the fact that he and I were  even a couple. I ended the relationship because I could not believe in someone that could not believe in me. And now, he wanting me to go back into situation and using his condition to make me feel guilty.&lt;br /&gt;I just wish things would get easier, and now I am even starting to doubt if I am capable of becoming a real therapist since I am having dealing with all these issues. There will tons more as progress in my studies. I just wish I was little stronger, or invulnerable even.&lt;br /&gt;  Regardless, I have to keep going....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-6584407325608550032?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/6584407325608550032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=6584407325608550032&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6584407325608550032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6584407325608550032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-want-to-be-invulnerable.html' title='I want to be invulnerable'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SWKrB54vwAI/AAAAAAAAAE4/l3IuRiRIdao/s72-c/250px-IconM0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-4977209492753944731</id><published>2008-12-19T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T16:38:37.641-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>I'm the Mary and you're the Rhoda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SUw53lhG29I/AAAAAAAAAEw/R0l3Fpga9gs/s1600-h/MV5BMTkxNDQ4NTExOF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMTcyOTIyMQ%40%40__V1__SX96_SY140_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281660090125310930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 96px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SUw53lhG29I/AAAAAAAAAEw/R0l3Fpga9gs/s320/MV5BMTkxNDQ4NTExOF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMTcyOTIyMQ%40%40__V1__SX96_SY140_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I am so sorry it has been so long since my last post (read: confession). I have experienced some dizzying highs and spiraling lows both personally and second hand during my little break.&lt;br /&gt;I can honestly say that my friends are truly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;amzing&lt;/span&gt;, and that my life would be a lot less interesting and meaningful without them in it. These last few weeks, I have seen one of my friends take on one of the  hardest  challenges in his life, and allowed me and others to see a side, very few of us share with others. Thank you for trusting honest to to bear witness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another friend has been going through a rough patch dealing with someone he is sharing he is sharing his living space with, and he is handling it with a calm sense of graciousness I only wish I could possess if I was in the same situation.&lt;br /&gt;And  finally my third  friend. I have seen him go from a gentle soul to a tiger.....I hope the days ahead bring him the peacefulness I have always envied  in him.&lt;br /&gt;These days I feel as though I am being pulled in several directions and trying to claw my way up for air.  It seems that at this time, we all being challenged in different ways..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to hoping that we all come out of it stronger for the strife.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-4977209492753944731?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/4977209492753944731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=4977209492753944731&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/4977209492753944731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/4977209492753944731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-mary-and-youre-rhoda.html' title='I&apos;m the Mary and you&apos;re the Rhoda'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SUw53lhG29I/AAAAAAAAAEw/R0l3Fpga9gs/s72-c/MV5BMTkxNDQ4NTExOF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMTcyOTIyMQ%40%40__V1__SX96_SY140_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5481813221506285856</id><published>2008-10-12T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T21:06:02.175-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friendship'/><title type='text'>Take  A Look Around You, At Least You've Got Your Friends...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SPLCu1cP9LI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Rzmmz4MPCQ4/s1600-h/m_fe56284823ecb888b7a369ba05615fab.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256477824970126514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SPLCu1cP9LI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Rzmmz4MPCQ4/s320/m_fe56284823ecb888b7a369ba05615fab.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well another weekend rolled around, and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Scooby&lt;/span&gt; Gang was right in the thick of it. After much last minute thinking, we were on our way to Oil Can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Harrys&lt;/span&gt; for another night of fun and frolic. John was at the wheel, and we spent the ride up talking about  everything under the sun. It was great to have a new friend tag along for the adventure.  At the Honey Comb Hideout, the music was bumping  and the alcohol was flowing freely. We took our places along the wall, took in the whole space. Contrary to popular belief, I can be shy and reluctant to go up to a guy and let him know that may be interested. Coming out of a long term relationship (and gaining the post relationship 25lbs) has also left me painfully self conscious about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pursuing&lt;/span&gt; a serious dating situation with anybody at this point. I am too old and far too burned from  my last experience to consider serial dating. Just as these thoughts were going through my head as I was dancing, up came this strapping man in a tank and jeans who came swaggering next to me. I have always had a thing for bald guys with a goatee, and he fit the bill nicely. As the music played on, he came closer and closer, and I must admit, I was excited. As the sound ended I did something I almost never do; I scurried off the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dance floor&lt;/span&gt; and took safety in the comfort of my friends.&lt;br /&gt;   Leave it to Chris to let me know that I was being silly for being such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;scaredy&lt;/span&gt; cat and encouraged me to go back out  there and get to know the guy. I eventually did, and found out that he was a nice guy (named Steve) and we danced a little more before he had to go. The first baby steps to getting through it all...I just have to say thanks to my buds for getting me out of my rut, while at the same time giving me the space I need to move forward at my own pace...And thanks to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Scooby&lt;/span&gt; Gang for not laughing too loud when this random woman pulled me away to dance with her and groped me after we finished our dance.. You guys will never know how much you mean to me.....Those guys we met from Long Beach looked like good friends, but they were nothing like us...Long Live the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Scoobies&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5481813221506285856?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5481813221506285856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5481813221506285856&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5481813221506285856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5481813221506285856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/10/take-look-around-you-at-least-youve-got.html' title='Take  A Look Around You, At Least You&apos;ve Got Your Friends...'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SPLCu1cP9LI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Rzmmz4MPCQ4/s72-c/m_fe56284823ecb888b7a369ba05615fab.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-6582422213362232939</id><published>2008-10-03T14:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T14:27:55.876-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my luck'/><title type='text'>My Post-Thursday S**t Storm!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SOaIs72xXyI/AAAAAAAAADw/Yg-4AJDRnog/s1600-h/attention-whore3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253036320937303842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SOaIs72xXyI/AAAAAAAAADw/Yg-4AJDRnog/s320/attention-whore3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyone who has ever met and spent time with me will tell you that I am a magnet for drama and all kinds of bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;McShittles&lt;/span&gt;. It never fails: just when things start going well in my life, karma, universal justice, or just plain bad luck comes in to balance the scales. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  My personal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;waterloo&lt;/span&gt; all begins on Wednesday morning as I was getting out of bed. I had a great Tuesday night getting some homework done, and having  night cap with my favorite red head (read as : object of lust/skin toy). I was feeling triumphant, as I had my day all planned out, and I didn't have to start my day out in typical fashion (taking care of my little problem...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;shhhh&lt;/span&gt;!!) Well as my feet touched the carpet, I felt chills all over my body, and scratchiness to my throat.  Automatically, I dismissed that I was pregnant, the air conditioner was on, or that Mr. Red's attachment was the BIG. Oh man, I have a COLD!!!! Despite feeling like a wet food stamp (worthless) I hauled my ample butt into the shower, and went on to work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A sad fact is that people really look at you funny when you come in to work feeling sick and looking tore back.. Three hours into my shift, my supervisor came over and ASKED (demanded) that I go home. SCORE!!. I got home and take a long hard nap until the next day. Now the fun begins.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   I am feeling a lot better, but now everyone at work is coming at me with something they want me to do, and I can't because I am now working part time as student therapist and they're pissed that I cannot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;accomodate&lt;/span&gt; them. And then as I am checking into my class, I found out that I am not even registered for classes this quarter!!! A few feverish calls later, I given an appointment NEXT WEEK to clear this up... A**holes!  And then I get a call from my mom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   Let met tell you something about my mom: she only calls me at work if someone a) died b)going to hospital...you get the picture. Well, my mom calls and tells me that she got two call from my ex wanting to know where I was, and who I was hanging out. Since school has started, I have only found a few times to go out with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Scooby&lt;/span&gt; Gang, and really at this point, it is none of his business whom I am spending time with, since we are OVER, and he could never admit to anyone that we were a couple. I also find out that he called my sister at her job and hit her up as well about me!!!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   Well I called him, went completely bat s**t on him! The only thing he could say to me was that he was worried, and wanted to know how I was. The last time I checked, his name was not on my birth certificate, and barely took orders for the man I call "father". And then the topper came today when some douche bag scraped some of  the paint off my barely 3 month old car..I just knew the other shoe was going to drop after all the fun I was having.. Just praying that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Scooby&lt;/span&gt; Gang's outing this weekend will change things......I know some people are drama queens, and some gay men manufacture "drama"..All I have to do is walk out the door or stumble out of bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-6582422213362232939?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/6582422213362232939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=6582422213362232939&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6582422213362232939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6582422213362232939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-post-thursday-st-storm.html' title='My Post-Thursday S**t Storm!!!'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SOaIs72xXyI/AAAAAAAAADw/Yg-4AJDRnog/s72-c/attention-whore3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5884132477243504413</id><published>2008-10-02T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T00:19:47.340-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='horror movies'/><title type='text'>Pre Halloween 2008 - Season of the B****h!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SORyrUiEewI/AAAAAAAAADo/qrQXVoYF4Lc/s1600-h/250px-Michaelmyers2007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252449153992391426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SORyrUiEewI/AAAAAAAAADo/qrQXVoYF4Lc/s320/250px-Michaelmyers2007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well. It's finally October, and it is still as hot  as August. I can remember back in the day, I would always get so EXCITED at this time of the year: school was in full swing, the turning of the leaves, and all the horror movie marathons you could shake a Sara Palin at. My fondest memories are of me racing home to see all my scary shows with my mom and then going out for ice cream (and I still had no idea I was gay? Yeah right). But nowadays, I have a hard time working up some of the excitement. All the new horror movies are sad imitations and remakes of the classics (Texas Chainsaw Massacre, anyone?), or if something interesting has come out, it sequeled out to infinitity to the point all the fun of the original idea is gone (Final Destination 50).&lt;br /&gt;    The sad thing is, the things going on in my life are far more scarier than anything I am seeing on the screen: unstable economy, growing disillusionment about higher education (grand school), and the very real possiblity that my future could be controlled by some freaky hockey with  a fetish  for hunting and dressing moose carcass. I am SO hoping that the Scooby Gang's trip down the Universal Studios for the Halloween Extravaganza will restore of some of my faith.  Nothing brings friends closer than screaming your lungs out, and running from some crazed killer from your childhood. Pictured is one of my favorites: Michael Myers. Halloween 2 stands out as one of favorite horror movies of all time, and I never get tired of watching it. I sure hope we stop for ice cream on the way back....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5884132477243504413?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5884132477243504413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5884132477243504413&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5884132477243504413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5884132477243504413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/10/pre-halloween-2008-season-of-bh.html' title='Pre Halloween 2008 - Season of the B****h!'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SORyrUiEewI/AAAAAAAAADo/qrQXVoYF4Lc/s72-c/250px-Michaelmyers2007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-8491122262690852726</id><published>2008-09-28T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T15:54:41.259-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hot mess encounters'/><title type='text'>Panic! On the Dancefloor...Sigh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SOACXd0pJiI/AAAAAAAAADg/WohSOG8XClo/s1600-h/m_ca88621b5b024bcaa7a5c1ff4b198844.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251199767679673890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SOACXd0pJiI/AAAAAAAAADg/WohSOG8XClo/s320/m_ca88621b5b024bcaa7a5c1ff4b198844.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Keeping true to my vow, some the Scooby Gang made our merry way down to LA to one of our favorite spots: Oil Can Harrys. Ususally, our road trip adventures come off without a hitch, but this one had drama upon drama almost from the beginning. Who was coming, who was not coming, and who was NOT INVITED seemed to be major obstacles to it all. But once the seating arrrangements were taken care of, the three amigos were well on our way to the Honey Comb Hideout. Special thanks to Mr. Chris  for bringing his Ipod along to keep the mood light but thoughtful. And another special thanks to Paul, for keeping the attention off of you know who. Let me be the first that I LOVE the drive up to LA, but I hate the drive back, but I will go into the details about that later.&lt;br /&gt;     We made it to Oil Can Harrys in good time, and had a blast taking in all the early birds and other sights of the bar before things got crazy. I was reluctant at first to wear the "HE LOVES THE COCK" t shirt (for fear of messing up before next week), but was thankful to Chris for talking me into trying them out.&lt;br /&gt;     We were the hit of the bar; we had people coming up to us the whole time asking about them and commenting on them. I was glad for one, because for the first time in a long time , it was good to see Chris truly happy and comfortable in his own skin. We definitely enjoyed ourselves and just being together, and there was no mention of the infamous Quilter. Just when things could not get any better, in walks Jesse from Bravo's Workout reality series. I spotted him right off the bat, but it was Chris that had the gumption to ask him to take pictures with us (as shown, Anya!).&lt;br /&gt;     I just did not want the night to end, but it had to.....The drive home was nice, and the conversation was  amazing. But I have to admit, I have not completely got the hang of driving an SUV, and I am sure that made for some uncomfortable moments for  both Chris and Paul. In the end, we all made it all home safe and sound and I could not have asked for a better group of guys to spend the night with (at least, with our clothes on..).  Somethings do not last forever, but HELLFIRE does!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-8491122262690852726?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/8491122262690852726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=8491122262690852726&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8491122262690852726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8491122262690852726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/09/panic-on-dancefloorsigh.html' title='Panic! On the Dancefloor...Sigh'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SOACXd0pJiI/AAAAAAAAADg/WohSOG8XClo/s72-c/m_ca88621b5b024bcaa7a5c1ff4b198844.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-6684504948568835754</id><published>2008-09-26T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T20:18:42.793-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>My Journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SN2cmI0xDJI/AAAAAAAAADY/8oUgu5rL3rM/s1600-h/250px-StaticShock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250524919601630354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SN2cmI0xDJI/AAAAAAAAADY/8oUgu5rL3rM/s320/250px-StaticShock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my life,  I  always have felt like I never fit in. Whether it be at home, school, and out in the world, there was always somebody who let me know that I had no right to be where I was. This set me  on this crazy adventure where I thought if I was just as smart (or smarter) and or as fun, people who would like me better...I have earned quite a  few awards, honors, and other types of recognition, but it never took away the feeling that I didn't "measure up". It took the better part of 19 years to come to the realization that I was gay. For me, it  made of lot of things make sense for me which constantly nagged at me; the love for the Carpenters' music, sewing, women's melodramas.&lt;br /&gt;     Even while I was embracing this new identity, I continued to feel "outside", while I was making my way. I am not sure about the rest of you, but during this  period, I had this vision in my head that if  I  gave the guy everything he wanted, he would something of what I needed. This led to a succession of guys whom loved me a lot less than I loved them, and I suffered as a result. Fast forward to eight years ago, I met  the man whom I will call Cowboy. I was taken by surprise with this one, because he fit none of the descriptions of the fantasy men I thought I was "fated" to be with , he seemed to love me as much or more as I loved him, and the romance was on. Things went blissfully along for a number of years. But as time went on, I began to see things as they were, and not as I wanted them to be. In the end, I could not stay with a man who could not love himself in all of his complexities. He would and could never to terms with who he is, and the stress and strain of this conflict tore at the very foundation of the relationship, and I thought it better to end it, rather than coming to resent him for a choice that is for him alone to make.&lt;br /&gt;  The reason why I am choosing  this time to write this, is because I have just learned that he is going to have a procedure done on his heart in the next two weeks, and I am fearful of the outcome. No matter how he was with me, there is a part of me that will always love him, and the memories we built together. He taught me so much about love, and how and how not to treat someone I care deeply for. And while this is all happening, I am also beginning the second phase of my graduate program where I will be conducting mental health assessments and practicing therapy with children and families. As I begin this phase, I wonder if I am going to find some way to "screw" things up, as I have in so many relationships, and do harm? I feel I am a competent student counselor, but there is always the thought that I have never fit in, how can help other integrate in the same mainstream I have never felt a part of? I guess is the new lesson I have to learn on my journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-6684504948568835754?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/6684504948568835754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=6684504948568835754&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6684504948568835754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6684504948568835754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-journey.html' title='My Journey'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SN2cmI0xDJI/AAAAAAAAADY/8oUgu5rL3rM/s72-c/250px-StaticShock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-8473727179628563428</id><published>2008-09-25T21:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T21:33:27.443-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Man Crush'/><title type='text'>It's Just, A little Crush....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNxjBq6-w6I/AAAAAAAAADQ/Mags5NOlDGw/s1600-h/cute2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250180145959846818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNxjBq6-w6I/AAAAAAAAADQ/Mags5NOlDGw/s320/cute2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After hearing about the old school crushes of some friends of mine  (i.e. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Vicktor&lt;/span&gt; and Chris) , I thought it only proper that I volunteer my own. There was not at Tuesday night that went by in the mid to late 70's that I was not glued to my set watching the ABC comedy line-up. Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, and my favorite : Three's Company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not able to put a name to it then, but stomach always got a little tight when my eyes fell on the form of John &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ritter&lt;/span&gt; aka "Jack Tripper". That winsome &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;smile&lt;/span&gt;, his quirky sense of humor, and that hot patch of fur on his chest was my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-teen gay Happy Meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon, other men came to take his place; Lou &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ferrigno&lt;/span&gt; (Incredible Hulk) that guy from the live-action Spider-man series, and Bo and Luke Duke from Dukes of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hazzard&lt;/span&gt; (the real show, not that crappy movie). I kissed many men afterwards, but this one was my first introduction to unbridled man on man attraction....Memories, like the corners of my mind.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-8473727179628563428?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/8473727179628563428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=8473727179628563428&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8473727179628563428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8473727179628563428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-just-little-crush.html' title='It&apos;s Just, A little Crush....'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNxjBq6-w6I/AAAAAAAAADQ/Mags5NOlDGw/s72-c/cute2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-8281858758056419852</id><published>2008-09-21T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T11:17:08.108-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hot mess encounters'/><title type='text'>The Drama, the Intrigue, and the PUMPKIN!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNaEioZk4mI/AAAAAAAAADI/18waaEhD0fw/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248528146242003554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNaEioZk4mI/AAAAAAAAADI/18waaEhD0fw/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was the typical kind of Saturday night out, if you're gay in Bakersfield. Long periods of boredom, followed by valiant attempts by you and your friends to cobble enough coins together to get out of town and head down to LA. Last night was no different for my friends and I. After much talk and hope that we could do a road trip down to our favorite watering hole in LA (Oil Can Harry's), we were left with the grim prospect of a night out in Bakersfield. You have to understand, a night out in Bakersfield is like getting your gums scraped, or feeling like you're in that movie "Small Town Gay Bar", only those people were having a good time. I have to say, my  best friend Chris and I took it all in stride. We did the usual pre-going out gay guy ritual  of slathering on after shave, cologne, and the latest fashion (by Bakersfield standards) and made our way to the bar. Almost immediately, we were taken back the sheer numbers of  lesbians, homo thugs, and other unfortunate creatures hanging out in the parking lot and smoking the wacky tobacky. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;     There was a time when gay people really dressed to go out, and you felt welcomed when you met up with your "tribe" to have a good time. These poor individuals were just menacing, rag tag, and had no sense of community with Chris and I. We hastily made our way into the bar and were bombarded by a wave of human funk, heat (beacuse they never turn on the air conditioning), and  the same repetitive, craptastic, booty song of the day. I was also being eyed by this guy I'd messed with a while ago and his train wreck boyfriend he'd failed to tell me about. As you can tell , this outing was going to be one for the record books. We'd taken our position at a nearby table against the wall, and watched and commented on the parade of freaks, losers, and other miscreants on full display. As these human disasters came and went by, I was taken  with this one unfortunate, whose burnt white-gold tresses could not possibly occur in nature. As she drew closer, I almost immediately recognized the vacant look and irritating timbre to her voice. It was PUMPKIN! Yes, Pumpkin (I-Spit-On-New- York) from Flavor of Love, and she was in the gay bar with a gaggle of  trifling third tier queens who believe themselves to be the A-List gays of Bakersfield.  Chris and I looked on in awe as little Miss Hot Mess made herself at home in the bar and threw caution to the wind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  I know that she had every right to be at the bar, but still it was unnerving to see her at THIS bar, doing her thing.  Besides, I thought she was supposed to be on "I Love Money" this season ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess she must have lost and got sent packing (again).  But  why spend your Saturday night in a sad gay bar in po-dunk Bako?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I am saying is next time, we're going to LA....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-8281858758056419852?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/8281858758056419852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=8281858758056419852&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8281858758056419852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8281858758056419852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/09/drama-intrigue-and-pumpkin.html' title='The Drama, the Intrigue, and the PUMPKIN!'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNaEioZk4mI/AAAAAAAAADI/18waaEhD0fw/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-7919860473228017637</id><published>2008-09-19T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T15:41:35.207-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Things You Get with Blue Chip Stamps</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNQeTupOknI/AAAAAAAAADA/6lg02QOD3BI/s1600-h/204983-130704-misty-knight_super.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247852790080770674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNQeTupOknI/AAAAAAAAADA/6lg02QOD3BI/s320/204983-130704-misty-knight_super.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I don't know about the rest of you, but I was all about Misty Knight  from the old Power Man and Iron Fist back in the day. Don't get me wrong, I will &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ALWAYS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; love Chris Claremont's X-Men and the usual fanboy faves. But for a little black kid growing up, I was hungry for any positive representations  of black people. These stories really spoke to me, and gave me something to look forward to. This has been something I have forgotten in recent weeks...&lt;br /&gt;This summer has been one of the worst summers on record for me. Going a gruelling quarter of grad school, ex-boyfriend drama, and seeing someone I care for deeply go through one of the most trying periods of his life, really shook me to my core. While it seemed as though me and the people I loved were taking hits from all sides, I lost sight of the lesson I learned from one Misty Knight.&lt;br /&gt;Life is not fair to anyone. Not to my friends, my family, or to me...We loose many things on the journey we call Life.  A lover, a friend, sanity, even our right arm (like Misty's). But the challenge for us as people is  come back stronger than we were before, and never lose sight of the qualities and the connections to give meanings our lives. That truth became evident to me when I saw what my dearest friend went through. I have a new found respect for him, and I think our friendship (I feel) has truly deepened.&lt;br /&gt;The new quarter just started this week, and I am well ready for whatever life has to throw at me. Just like Misty Knight. My grandmother used to always talk about "the things you can buy with blue chip stamps" . She never lied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-7919860473228017637?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/7919860473228017637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=7919860473228017637&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/7919860473228017637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/7919860473228017637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/09/things-you-get-with-blue-chip-stamps.html' title='The Things You Get with Blue Chip Stamps'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SNQeTupOknI/AAAAAAAAADA/6lg02QOD3BI/s72-c/204983-130704-misty-knight_super.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-1637122546716753102</id><published>2008-09-01T22:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T23:23:50.724-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interrogation'/><title type='text'>Forty Questions? OMFG!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SLzSxpXgG5I/AAAAAAAAAC4/V_NHW9uIB8c/s1600-h/mommiedearest12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241295816712264594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SLzSxpXgG5I/AAAAAAAAAC4/V_NHW9uIB8c/s320/mommiedearest12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Let me be the first to say..I've been quite a trainwreck (but not quite Britney) for the summer, but finally the awful summer quarter of school has come to an end, and things are starting to settle down for me. The ex-boyfriend  situation is a source and friction for me (details of which I will detail in a later blog - HONEST!) and I am about to start on a new juncture of my life.  Well anywho.... I was tagged by my one of my good friends, Paul  over at Projektr3volution, to divulge the following (read as: embarrassing) information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Bleu Cheese? Yes. It's kind of like my men: a tangy flavor that goes down smoothly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Have you ever smoked? Never ! I know I am gay and all, but please...I would put something that small in my mouth to take a puff on...Sorry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do you own a gun? Nope, but I want one for my birthday some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What flavor Kool Aid was your favorite? Cherry or the Red one (as it is called at home)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? A little bit. The only ones I was was staring at my cupcaks and the twig and berries are my potential "prey".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What do you think of hot dogs? Which ones? I am fixated on some more than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Favorite Christmas movie?   Tie:  "Christmas Story" and "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation"  - Both remind me of me of my family (only with white people in the situations).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? A big hulking glass of Mountain Dew over crushed ice.. Coffee sucks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Can you do push ups? Yes, I  do them to get me prepared for other strenous activities and positions I get into...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry? My pendant that is in the shape of a razor blade...just my thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Favorite hobby? Comic Books and Queer Cinema...I am a rabid mess about both of these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Do you have A.D.D.? According to my family and coworkers I have ADHD...And you can't hold me down long enough to medicate me ....BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you wear glasses/contacts? Glasses...but only while reading and/or using the computer.. Hated glasses all my life. My friends and family will tell you how careless I am with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Middle names? Alex Jason the Third&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment? tired, work, getting my malpractice insurance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink? Mountain Dew, Lemonade (and lots of it) , Dr. Pepper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Current worry? School (Major)  &amp;amp; Weight Issues (every once in a while)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Current hate right now? Some sow at work not doing her fair share.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Favorite place to be? Any  adventure with the Scooby Gang or my crazy solo antics&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. How did you bring in the New Year? With the Scooby Gang  having good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Where would you like to go? Melbourne, Australia (for this hot guy I know) London, England, and South Africa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Name three people who will complete this? my friend's The other Alex,....also Victor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Do you own slippers? Yes,  I am a homosexual...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. What shirt are you wearing? Fun X-men t shirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Where will you be spending Christmas? With family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Can you whistle? yes, but not very well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Favorite color? Blue and red&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Would you be a pirate? a butt pirate. I have plundered many a hot booty. Ahoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. What songs do you sing in the shower? Got to Be Real, Queen of the Night, I am Changing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Favorite Girl’s Name?  Esmerelda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Favorite Boy’s name? Bocephus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. What’s in your pocket right now? A Lion and he's ready to roar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Last thing that made you laugh? My evil sister eating it when she dove for a ball during volleyball game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Worst injury you’ve ever had? Jaked my left ankle up during a PE game in high school..Hurts when it gets cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Do you love where you live? I used to, but all these Johnny come latelies have moved out here....sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. How many TVs do you have in your house? One in the living room and in the other rooma so I guess that makes 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Name 3 other words for penis: joy stick, meat sword,  pogo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Name 3 other words for vagina: fish grotto, vagina dentata, the nether region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Name 3 other words for Tits: fub bags, gozongas, dirty boulders&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-1637122546716753102?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/1637122546716753102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=1637122546716753102&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/1637122546716753102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/1637122546716753102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/09/forty-questions-omfg.html' title='Forty Questions? OMFG!'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SLzSxpXgG5I/AAAAAAAAAC4/V_NHW9uIB8c/s72-c/mommiedearest12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-8441244944856627575</id><published>2008-08-03T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:41.228-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scooby Gang'/><title type='text'>A Tickled Pink Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SJZEhAc6k7I/AAAAAAAAACw/LRJ3g62iYEI/s1600-h/snagglepussr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230443351085061042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SJZEhAc6k7I/AAAAAAAAACw/LRJ3g62iYEI/s320/snagglepussr.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It has been one  interesting weekend to be sure.  My weekend started off with me thinking I had lost my cell phone, and just about ended thinking I lost my Ipod. Trying to find a balance between home, work, and school is really starting to get to me. Maybe it is just summer, but I don't want to do a thing, and that is not good.  In other news..&lt;br /&gt;Me and the Scooby Gang had a blast on Friday, and we got to make a new friend and potential member.  I will be so glad when Fall gets here. I am so hyped after the new installment of Heroes (barring an actors' strike), and  getting crazy.....Exit, stage Right&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-8441244944856627575?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/8441244944856627575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=8441244944856627575&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8441244944856627575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8441244944856627575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/08/tickled-pink-weekend.html' title='A Tickled Pink Weekend'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SJZEhAc6k7I/AAAAAAAAACw/LRJ3g62iYEI/s72-c/snagglepussr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-8392376002424212250</id><published>2008-07-27T22:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:41.643-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>A Super Sunday Screed!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SI1ftsI0RdI/AAAAAAAAACo/ZWaXeJL0dhI/s1600-h/mommiedearest12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227939980993906130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SI1ftsI0RdI/AAAAAAAAACo/ZWaXeJL0dhI/s320/mommiedearest12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What am I doing to myself ?!! I had a good six days off from work, and I went to Comi-Con with the BFF and kid brother. You would think I would be on top of the world, right?  Right? Well, I sitting here, typing away in the cool of the night trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. After getting back from the Con (which was ok). I went out on a date with this hot guy  I talk to from time to time, but know in my heart it is not going to go anywhere. The reason why I know it is not going to go anywhere is because his VISA is up in two years, and he will be moving back to Australia. I had a great time with him at dinner and afterwards, but I could tell I was not feeling so hot. Unfortunately I had to cut the date short, and make a bee line for the homestead. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;     Once I got home, I had  some of the most excruciating, explosive, expulsions witness in human history. I finally got to separate from the porcelain receptacle and get some sleep. I woke up saturday afternoon feeling like a wet food stamp (worthless) and no energy. As much I was I wanted to go out on the town (or bettter yet, out of town) and make some Misfit mischief, the body did not want to cooperate.  As much as I hate to admit it, I felt every bit the man in late 30's I try to rebel against. I finally started to feel better today, and a good thing too because I had to take a quiz for my grad seminar. And then to top it off I get a call from the ex telling me that he is doing better and wanting to see me. I had to let him know that he wouldn't like me if he saw me like this, but he kept going on about how much he wished things were different, and how he thinks of me often. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;     When I got off the phone with him, I felt almost as bad as the day before. A part of me will always love the ex, and want the best for him. But then there is the other side that could never fall completely in love with him again, because he can never come to terms with his sexuality enough to put me  and what we had first. His family, his business associates, and his friends will always be fed some line about the nature of our "friendship", and who he is. I am too old to inhabit somebody else's closet. But then I wonder does that make me an awful person? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;     And then I wonder if I am doing the right thing with the whole grad school mess. All my life I have been an overachiever. Now I am freaking out at the prospect of getting a "b" in class.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe it's just my fever induced delirium or the medications to treat the symptoms, but I really need to take the reins again.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-8392376002424212250?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/8392376002424212250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=8392376002424212250&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8392376002424212250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8392376002424212250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/07/super-sunday-screed.html' title='A Super Sunday Screed!'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SI1ftsI0RdI/AAAAAAAAACo/ZWaXeJL0dhI/s72-c/mommiedearest12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-6233713765546816964</id><published>2008-06-24T22:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:41.803-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strange relationships'/><title type='text'>Another WTF Weekend...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SGHS_Cu4-HI/AAAAAAAAACg/jUjgE-lsORg/s1600-h/Uxm170.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215681823978879090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SGHS_Cu4-HI/AAAAAAAAACg/jUjgE-lsORg/s320/Uxm170.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Did  you  ever have weekends where you couldn't  wait for them to be over so that you go back to work and not think about what is going on in your personal life? This was just such a weekend. Let me rephrase that: it was the whole week before!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There I was, just enjoying the my last week of freedom before going to summer school, when I got a call at work. Turns out my ex had a heart attack and was being taken by ambulance from his home to hospital  20 miles away. All sorts of things ran through my head at this time. While the break up was unevenful, I was not going out of my way to be accomodating to him when called asking to "meet up and talk". I wasn't rude or anything, I just kept setting clear boundaries with him, so as to not fall into the same old trap, making with the hot and sweaty for "old time's sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what really slapped me in the face, was the fact that I still care for him, and no matter what his issues were/are, I can't deny that I love/loved him. And then I started feeling guilty for breaking up with him, and how that might have lead up to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Over and over, there are stories of how people have died of "broken heart", and the way we left things the last time would fit right in with this. I know I did the right thing, because in time, I would have come to resent him for not having the balls to stand up to his family and his friends to acknowledge who I was to him.  But now, I am so confused about my emotions and reaction to the whole thing. I total lost my sh** on Wednesday, and had to take a little personal time to deal. It took a little time, but I was able to pull it together and finish out the work week. I even hung out with the Scooby Gang for dinner on Friday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Saturday rolled around, I made the trip up to Tulare to see him. They had moved him from Intensive Care to a regular room, and he was strong enough to have visitors. We talked for a while about the good times and things we shared, and then the time came for me to go. As I was about to leave, he told me that he called for me as he being taken away in the ambulance, and that he had to see me. And then he said that he would always love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was released from the hospital yesterday, and the calls are coming in. I am just a confused mess, and I really hate feeling this way.  Man, I sound like a bad Madonna song. I am scared to see where this is all heading.  How is it that you can know intellectually that someone is WRONG for you, but have these feelings that rock you to your core?  WTF!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-6233713765546816964?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/6233713765546816964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=6233713765546816964&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6233713765546816964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6233713765546816964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/06/another-wtf-weekend.html' title='Another WTF Weekend...'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SGHS_Cu4-HI/AAAAAAAAACg/jUjgE-lsORg/s72-c/Uxm170.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-6127134041095807965</id><published>2008-06-19T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:41.898-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Questions'/><title type='text'>It's Showtime, Synergy. Time For Alex's 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SFs60vbtMzI/AAAAAAAAACY/3edQWCBm858/s1600-h/csynergy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213825671371764530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SFs60vbtMzI/AAAAAAAAACY/3edQWCBm858/s320/csynergy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;After campaigning as much Obama, some kind soul finally tagged me to do my five.... I hope these anwers are relevant and educational...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Share 5 unknown Facts about yourself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. Pay it forward! Link 5 more bloggers and include their names in your post.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. Leave them a comment on their blog and let them know that they’ve been tagged.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here's my 5:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1) This is going to guarantee I have enemies after this: I think Justin Timberlake is overrated. Strike that: I think he is OVER! Sure, he's put out some nice ear candy over the years, but come on! Michael Jackson did this crap 25 years earlier (and better). Put the Jesus juice down, and get some real skills.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2) My secret shame: I always wanted to be on MTV's the Real World ( Seasons 1 through 6), when they were good (except for London!). I would have been great for casting: I am hyper, talk a lot of trash, and my genetic predisposition for bitchiness would have made me America's next gay sweetheart... Sigh&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3) I got porn star Max Grand all soak and wet (I wish I had in another fashion...he he he ) at LA Pride a few years back. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4) My sisters and I knew the closing dance routine to Solid Gold by heart, and would do it every Saturday night at the end; (Solid Gold, filling up your life with music, Solid Gold...lol) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5) I still have the CD Single to Vanilla Ice's Cool as Ice, with hot mess/train wreck/ model Naomi Campbell singing the hook.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, my work is done...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am tagging Chris, Paul, Alex, and Greg &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-6127134041095807965?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/6127134041095807965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=6127134041095807965&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6127134041095807965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6127134041095807965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-showtime-synergy-time-for-alexs-5.html' title='It&apos;s Showtime, Synergy. Time For Alex&apos;s 5'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SFs60vbtMzI/AAAAAAAAACY/3edQWCBm858/s72-c/csynergy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-853997763279906817</id><published>2008-06-09T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:42.291-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Something for the fellas'/><title type='text'>It Ain't No Fun If Alex Can't Have Some..Sigh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SE32aTRDaJI/AAAAAAAAACI/cCUqTm5vNzo/s1600-h/227px-SELENEx.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210091275646363794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SE32aTRDaJI/AAAAAAAAACI/cCUqTm5vNzo/s320/227px-SELENEx.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I was looking around and found this fun little questionnaire...Being me, I jacked it from my friend Paul and thought I would have a go of it...Like saying goes: "Hellfire is forever...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Where is your cell phone? &lt;em&gt;In my pants. No comments from the peanut gallery&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Your significant other? A four hour compilation...It takes the edge off and knows when to shut its yap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Your hair? almost ready to go into Afro puffs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Your skin? a nice golden brown...I put the lotion on its skin so it doesn't get the hose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Your father? Has more issues with me than the rack at Borders booksellers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Your favorite thing? My 7 lbs of canine fury (Sprinkles)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Your dream last night? I had a dream I was having a major thrown down with  a former friend of mine.. My BFF knows who it is..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8')Your favorite drink? Anything that can make my nipples stand at attention&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Your dream/goal? To be a well paid therapist, and living at my full potential with my family and friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) The room you’re in? My bedroom and enjoying Dante's Cove Season 3!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Your ex? ...Two words - Closet Mess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Your fear? My mother.. She has a glare that can melt metal..Thank goodness I will have therapy soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) Where do you want to be in 6 years? Having my practice and place to call my own. Maybe even becoming a dad with a partner or on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) Where were you last night? Terrorizing small children..Actually swimming and playing with my nieces and nephews...!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) What you’re not? A Caucasian Heterosexual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Muffins? The best comfort food on a cold winter morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) One of your wish list items? Keep up my nerve to go on all gay cruise when I graduate school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) Where you grew up? Like a John Cougar Mellencamp song: Born in a small town (Bakersfield), live in a small town; gonna die in a small town...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) The last thing you did? This cute boy I met .....Wait! that was last night..Finished the day's paperwork and then came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) what are you wearing? Gap muscle shirt and some cut-off sweats..seductive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) Your TV? Gets a lot of action.  YAY Porn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) Your pets? my fur  face Sprinkles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) Your computer? Is my other brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) Your life? A gayer version of Sex and the City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) Your mood? Has more swings than playground..Waiting for my grades for Spring Quarter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) Missing someone? so much right now, but he's going to be moving back to Australia...sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27) Your car? Is probably going to die soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28')Something you’re not wearing? a thong. That would get me into a lot of trouble. Very uncomfortable I might add.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29) Favorite store? Target. Most of the clerks know me, and I can have a pleasant shopping experience while avoiding so much of the trailer trash milling around at Wally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30) Your summer? will be hot and sweaty.But then I have to get off the boys and go to work and summer school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31) Like someone? yes, but it is doomed from the start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32) Your favorite color? is blue (da ba di ba da ba)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33) When is the last time you laughed? Two minutes ago at my neighbor's misfortune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34) Last time you cried? was Saturday afternoon watching Beaches. The shot of the hearse rounding the bend while "Wind Beneath My Wings" gets me every time. Is that gay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35) Who will/would re-post this? People who want to avoiding doing something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36) Whose answers are you anxious to see? Whomever wants to share..I am a giver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37) Most disliked vegetable? Okra..yuck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38') A lovely Person? BFF Chris...Sometimes..We are too much alike!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39) Country I want to visit? Australia. There is a hot man there I going to need to molest again and again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40) Lucky number? My lucky number 3 (again, no comments from the peanut gallery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I feel so much better now....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-853997763279906817?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/853997763279906817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=853997763279906817&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/853997763279906817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/853997763279906817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/06/it-aint-no-fun-if-alex-cant-have.html' title='It Ain&apos;t No Fun If Alex Can&apos;t Have Some..Sigh'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SE32aTRDaJI/AAAAAAAAACI/cCUqTm5vNzo/s72-c/227px-SELENEx.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-612312626112249343</id><published>2008-06-06T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:42.402-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='step it up and dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='b****h'/><title type='text'>So they think I Can Dance...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SEoCYsnJdiI/AAAAAAAAACA/vDgnjJ6vNEo/s1600-h/donknc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208978542322873890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SEoCYsnJdiI/AAAAAAAAACA/vDgnjJ6vNEo/s320/donknc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a class="image" title="Paula Abdul at the 1990 Emmy awards." href="http://simple.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Paula_Abdul_%281990%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, it's me again...I am trying to make more of an effort to be more consistent with my blog entries, and to get my body back into its "fighting weight". Only time will tell if I am successful in either category. Now on to my reason for this new post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was doing my usual thing at work (yes, I do work!) I was approached by the minions to participate in a dance routine for the company's annual planning day festivities. Planning day is this event wherein all the branches of the company get together to connect, have fun, and see what we can do make things better and embarrass each other. But then there is the "other" component; the entertainment portion of the program. My office has decided that we would be doing a dance routine for this get together...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know whether I should be flattered or insulted for being asked to be in the actual routine and help choreograph. Don't get me wrong; I can drop it like it's hot and be as "bootylicious " and work my pudding as good as(and sometimes better than) the average dancing queen, but why would these people want me to play in their reindeer games? For the longest time, I felt as though I did not fit in with the new group coming in, and now I am doing my best Paula Abdul (late 80's, not the train wreck she is today) impersonation for this event. Is it because I'm gay, or black, or both? Hmmmmm.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well anyways, we had our first rehearsals this week, and I really put Richard Simmons to shame with my snappy ensemble (complete with headband and faux legwarmers circa-Flashdance), the huge buckets of sweat that rolled off my frame as we worked our way through the steps. As any of my friends (and fans) will tell you, I sweat alot. So much so, that in my younger days I would bring three extra shirts to change into when I went dancing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being a child of the 70's and 80's who consumed lots of television (and cartoons in particular), I have to come away from these situations with the idea that I have learned something from the experience like they always did at the end of the show. I learned two valuable lessons from my Xana-dance, step it up journey: (1) That I need to trim off some of ample assets. Seeing yourself in the cruel cruel gaze of the mirror as you move is a sobering and humbling experience. (2) I still have some moves. All those hours of watching Soul Train, Solid Gold, and Friday Night Videos really paid off. I still have my flexibility, and when I did my thing , the men all paused.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well the show is supposed to happen on June 19th, and I am still memorizing the movies. Wish me luck (or is it break a leg?) You can now add me to list of my friends who are getting rid of that devil called carbs....Argh!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-612312626112249343?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/612312626112249343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=612312626112249343&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/612312626112249343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/612312626112249343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-they-think-i-can-dance.html' title='So they think I Can Dance...'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SEoCYsnJdiI/AAAAAAAAACA/vDgnjJ6vNEo/s72-c/donknc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5518380442159718624</id><published>2008-06-03T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:42.548-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Labels or Love Weekend.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SEX4He-07qI/AAAAAAAAAB4/uNlQXHdHYxY/s1600-h/150px-TurnerStorm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207841351583198882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SEX4He-07qI/AAAAAAAAAB4/uNlQXHdHYxY/s320/150px-TurnerStorm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Friday, my  gay mafia and I made the pilgrimage to the Nirvana called Sex and the City, the movie. At times like this, I wonder: what are setting ourselves up for?  We were lucky enough to even get tickets for Friday, and as far the eye can see women in horrible fashions flashed before my eyes.  While I can identify with a  character or two from the show as well as the next woman or gay man, the LAST thing I need to hear in the background  is every woman and gay guy saying such gems as :"I am SO the Carrie of my group!" Trick, please! Save this tired argument for the car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with your  friends or in the bar in a drunken stupor. Well back to us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we were settling into to our uncomfortable chairs, trust this group to find the drunkest, obnoxious, loud group of cougars in the house. And just like that old Frankie Goes to Hollywood song; Two Tribes Go To War.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lead Cougar: "What are you guys doing here? This a Chick Flick."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BFF&lt;/span&gt;: "We are all gay."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the fun begins.  I can honestly say that this little reminded of me why my friends means so much to me. Boyfriends come and go, but  the friends  are the ones that stay with you through all the changes, the triumphs and the heartbreaks. Just want to thank the guys for making my life so much more special.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5518380442159718624?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5518380442159718624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5518380442159718624&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5518380442159718624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5518380442159718624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/06/labels-or-love-weekend.html' title='A Labels or Love Weekend.....'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SEX4He-07qI/AAAAAAAAAB4/uNlQXHdHYxY/s72-c/150px-TurnerStorm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-211344332633979719</id><published>2008-05-12T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:42.774-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Mischief, I'm Making Mischief, Making Mischief!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SCkjzqQQEKI/AAAAAAAAABw/PysA7bxLxrs/s1600-h/story_pizzazz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199726615198699682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SCkjzqQQEKI/AAAAAAAAABw/PysA7bxLxrs/s320/story_pizzazz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is something to be something to be said for revenge... I know there are many of you out there who will probably say: "There is never just cause for revenge" or "you should leave things alone and move on." While I can empathize with these statements sometimes, I honestly have to admit that is not usually how I roll. This past weekend proved without a doubt that if "revenge is a dish best served cold", I will take mine with a side of cherry cheesecake...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The festivities started off quietly enough with me having yet another excruciating day at work, and the only thing saving me was that I was leaving work early (as I do on most Fridays). Just as I was about to to go over the walls, who should accost me? This closet case blow hard(he he he "blow hard) I can't stand (and who hates me in equal measure) with some delicious bit of gossip he wanted to impart to me. As anyone who knows me might guess, I was distrustful of this gesture, as previous exchanges between us have always had some edge to them. I will elaborate on this on a future post, but needless to say he shared that the horrible hag I told you about earlier was getting her just deserts. I was taken aback by all of this, as previously my frienemy received valuable information that I had on him from this rotten turncoat, and here he was trying to bond with me in our mutual dislike of this traitorous witch. Turns out, she will be having to work for her supper this summer in the most degrading of fashions, and I didn't have to lift a finger to exact my revenge. Thank you, Karma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so inspired by this, that I had to give back to the universe, and help a dear friend of  mine get a little taste of vengeance  himself......I will not go into details, but I hope that my covert action stratagem gives my friend a little more comfort, and removes all doubt that 90's Alex is DEAD AND BURIED!!! After I completed my mission, I could not help but look back at how my favorite X-man Storm had evolved. I  also see myself in transition, and now realize I can never be the "Alex" I was, or pretended to be. While it is scary sometimes, there is a a part of me that welcomes it.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-211344332633979719?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/211344332633979719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=211344332633979719&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/211344332633979719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/211344332633979719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/05/mischief-im-making-mischief-making.html' title='Mischief, I&apos;m Making Mischief, Making Mischief!'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SCkjzqQQEKI/AAAAAAAAABw/PysA7bxLxrs/s72-c/story_pizzazz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-7842961216730468229</id><published>2008-05-05T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:42.940-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>My $20,000.00 Pyramid</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Questio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SB_HWA7TuII/AAAAAAAAABo/OUOMYVRqufc/s1600-h/25kplogo.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197091676028647554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SB_HWA7TuII/AAAAAAAAABo/OUOMYVRqufc/s320/25kplogo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;n:&lt;/strong&gt; Overbooked homework assignments, irritating co-workers, and missed opportunities... &lt;strong&gt;Answer&lt;/strong&gt;: Things that made my weekend craptacular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just when I thought things were going to go my way, there is always something that comes along to mess things up.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had such high hopes for this weekend. I thought I would have enough time to get all the hard stuff out of the way, and then&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;I could get down to the good stuff. This sadly was not to be..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All my assignments just seemed to bombard me all at once. Although I was able to get somethings accomplished, there is still so much to do. That is what I get for trying to be edumicated. Still annoyed by some small minded people who have an issue with me not going along with the okey-doke and sitting in the back of the bus.. It just amazes me how some people are willing to sell people out so they can feel "comfortable". The only thing that kept through this trying weekend were my friends. Chris, Paul, and John: thanks so much for putting up with my neurotic butt on Friday, and wish I was awake to go out and do something fun this Saturday.. I have just been running on empty, and I wish I had enough sense to let you hear all about it. But you guys have enough going on in your lives right now for me to dump on you...I am just glad there are just three more weeks in this quarter.. I cannot believe I have survived my first year of graduate school in the Social Work Program.. The beast therapy I had this weekend was when I went up to DJ at an unknown location here in Bakersfield, and got him to play one of my favorite jams at the moment. Dancing like a fool with my friends made this weekend bearable. You guys will never fully understand how much you mean to me.. Thank you for letting me be me, warts and all...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-7842961216730468229?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/7842961216730468229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=7842961216730468229&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/7842961216730468229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/7842961216730468229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-2000000-pyramid.html' title='My $20,000.00 Pyramid'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SB_HWA7TuII/AAAAAAAAABo/OUOMYVRqufc/s72-c/25kplogo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-8459723616158910762</id><published>2008-04-23T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:43.410-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homophobes'/><title type='text'>"Christina, bring me the axe!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SBACOA7TuHI/AAAAAAAAABA/TMkMVNeqdUQ/s1600-h/mommiedearest12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192652810148362354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SBACOA7TuHI/AAAAAAAAABA/TMkMVNeqdUQ/s320/mommiedearest12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just when you can embrace your gay self, and send one homophobe on their constipated way, some other A**hole has to come along and take their place.....&lt;br /&gt;The day started off simple enough with me enjoying my porn, showering, getting ready for work, and then spending the day doing the bare minimum to get my paperwork done ,all the  while  dealing with drama not of my own making. Cut from all the boring crap to my crazy dash to get to my seminar for my Masters Program in Social Work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night goes off without much fanfare, until my group is called to post a discussion bulletin for the week. My hag (aka alternative lifestyle accessory according to Rick and Steve) has the bright idea that our discussion should be on gay marriage. Almost immediately, several sets of eyes zeroed in on me as if I was wearing pink taffeta, or just cut one in the room (sorry, Xander). Without fail, this hoodrat in the class started raising objections, saying that this has nothing to do with public policy and that she strongly disagreed because it gave "special rights" to gays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who know me know just how I get when I feel disrespected or upset....Luckily the professor corrected her, and my hag talked me down from putting on a show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just amazes me how ignorant people think that their personal beliefs give them a forum say some of the most scathing comments about other people and sit in righteous indignation. The thing about this situation all the more infuriating to me was that was coming from another person of African American descent. Given our shared history of hatred and mistrust, you would think that most black people would be sensistive and empathetic to gay people. So much for that idea. Another the thing that really struck me about the moral comments this woman was making was that she had a child out wedlock. So that makes me a sodomite, and she a fornicator..Which one is worse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a double minority, I am almost constantly aware that there are very few places where I feel that I "belong". It just amazes me that I get the message two days in a row, that there are people out there that want to make sure that myself and people like me stay on the margins, whether it be black people who have issues with gay sexuality, and  some gay people who have issues with gay people that are black...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so looking forward to posting this bulletin with my group..Just like Joan said to the Pepsi execs; " Don't F**k with me boys!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-8459723616158910762?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/8459723616158910762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=8459723616158910762&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8459723616158910762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/8459723616158910762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/04/christina-bring-me-axe.html' title='&quot;Christina, bring me the axe!&quot;'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SBACOA7TuHI/AAAAAAAAABA/TMkMVNeqdUQ/s72-c/mommiedearest12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5155794932883123697</id><published>2008-04-21T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:43.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Manic Monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SA1p1g7TuGI/AAAAAAAAAA4/AlNdPEioHV0/s1600-h/johnson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191922313520724066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SA1p1g7TuGI/AAAAAAAAAA4/AlNdPEioHV0/s320/johnson.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Like the song says; "These are the days when you wish your bed was already made." Today was one of those infuriating Bakersfield days when you wish you could have just stayed in bed and slept it off..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For starters, I had such a good time with the Sunday Family get together and putting more stuff of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;IPod&lt;/span&gt; (it's like crack!) that I dragged my sorry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gluteous&lt;/span&gt; to bed at 2:45 am! Then I got back up around 5 to gt ready for work.... Let me inform you gentle readers that on Mondays and Wednesdays, I work from 7 to 6:30pm...Needless to say, I was looking at hot mess when I got in to work, and headed straight for my cube.. And just like that, I run into the most irritating coworkers that I have in the building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our history of hate began when I first got hired on. Almost from the start, she made it no secret that she had a problem with how "out" I am at work, and how everything that came out of my mouth was "gay, gay, gay!" Anyways another one of our coworkers came in and asked how my weekend went. I spun her all the details of the adventures  I had at my usual Family Sunday get together, and then went into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Scooby&lt;/span&gt; Gang's travel to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Casa&lt;/span&gt;. For some reason this perked Baroness &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bitchy's&lt;/span&gt; interest and she proceeded to get into my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Kool&lt;/span&gt; Aid with, "Is that all you can talk about?" That was it. I became  Lil Kim and let loose with some mean comments. Suffice it to say, I let her know it was "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;noneya&lt;/span&gt;" (none of your business). She left in a huff, I was content with enjoying the rest of my morning breakfast, and dealing with today's drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I felt bad, but then the more I thought about it, the more pissed I got. In almost every setting, straights never have to apologize for  how they live their lives, but us gays are always on the defensive for sharing the smallest aspects of our lives with friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be the first to tell you; I am done with editing my life for people who mean less to me that a pound of dead flies so they can feel comfortable in their surroundings  and not have their ideas of what gay people are "supposed to be" challenged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great thinker once said; "I yam what I yam, and that I yam" and he was right....Popeye, this one's for you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5155794932883123697?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5155794932883123697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5155794932883123697&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5155794932883123697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5155794932883123697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-another-manic-monday.html' title='Just Another Manic Monday'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SA1p1g7TuGI/AAAAAAAAAA4/AlNdPEioHV0/s72-c/johnson.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-5206571424702685145</id><published>2008-04-20T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:43.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Night Out with the Bako Scooby Gang</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SAwmTTX1FiI/AAAAAAAAAAw/iXpyacvVago/s1600-h/dvdbuffy6usa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191566583510930978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SAwmTTX1FiI/AAAAAAAAAAw/iXpyacvVago/s320/dvdbuffy6usa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I had great weekend out my gay posse, whom I affectionately call the "Scooby Gang" after the group of characters on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I guess I call our group this, because our relationships are similar to theirs, and week after week we go out into a world that doesn't always "get" us. But thankfully we have a language and a comfort zone all our own, and I don't know where I would be without them.. Just for the curious, here is the breakdown of the group as I see it ; Chris = Buffy, Paul = Xander , Alex = Willow, John = Dawn, and Tim = Giles... Now that the preliminaries are out of the way let me go on about the weekend..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I made the effort to find a new gay horror movie, and all I ended up with was In The Blood.. I am so sorry gang that the movie was craptastic, but I  am so TIRED of all the recycled horror movies that are subpar to the originals...Come on now... Halloween should have been left alone, the Hills Have Eyes should have been left alone, and finally Prom Night (you picked this one Chris) should have been LEFT ALONE!! Has Hollywood run out of ideas to  scare people. I hate to be blunt, but I don't think I can sit through yet another Rob Zombie cinematic diaper stain, while I am craving the next horror movie to send me over...There has been a great horror movie in some time, and I think the viewing public deserves one. Well after our flaccid movie viewing, we proceeded to go to our local watering hole to see what mischief we could get into. Let me be the first to say that I have long had my issues with the Casa (the exorbitant cover charge, crappy music, over priced drinks, vapid people) but the Friday night at the Casa with the Gang was one of the better nights we've had out in Bako in some time. There was a different (and better DJ) spinning some good tunes, and the drag show in the smoking area provided nonstop comedy relief. It was truly a fun outing. As we were driving home, I felt that this was where I belonged, and that there was no where else I wanted to be that night. Thanks you guys, and a special shout out to Anya (the other "Chris") . &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-5206571424702685145?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/5206571424702685145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=5206571424702685145&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5206571424702685145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/5206571424702685145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/04/night-out-with-bako-scooby-gang.html' title='A Night Out with the Bako Scooby Gang'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SAwmTTX1FiI/AAAAAAAAAAw/iXpyacvVago/s72-c/dvdbuffy6usa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-4235848610629904848</id><published>2008-04-16T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:44.797-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost doesn't count....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SAXEpfb4N0I/AAAAAAAAAAo/80psJtFzz8c/s1600-h/catfight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189770362706474818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SAXEpfb4N0I/AAAAAAAAAAo/80psJtFzz8c/s320/catfight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I know it has been a while since I last posted, but with the demands of work, grad school, and the ongoing ex drama, my plate is pretty full at the moment.. Just to catch you people up on my little slice of Genoa City, my ex (whom I will call the Jolly Rancher) is about to celebrate yet another birthday party, and cordially invited me to come and celebrate this event with him, and small group of friends in the small town he is from. Despite some uneasy feelings mixed with a touch of fear, I agreed to come up and help him usher it in. But in my heart of hearts, I wonder if I am doing the right thing ? I want to stay on good terms (which is rare for me and my exes) with him, but at the same time, I have to ask myself : &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt; am I doing? So much has changed, am I setting myself up for yet more drama? Recently after a heart-felt conversation with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BFF&lt;/span&gt;, we questioned if there was a gay man that was drama-free? At the end of the discussion, I came away with the conclusion that most if not all gay men have some sort of drama, if they don't, they sure as heck are going to make some!!! Even when I just had a nice visit with him and made the decision not to get together for "old time's sake", here I am putting myself back into the same situation. I really wish I could understand the "hold" the Jolly Rancher has on me...So I could completely come to terms with it. In others news....The heifer I have decided to my rogue's gallery has been gone from the office for the last couple of days, and there has been peace in the valley...But I have sneaking suspicion that we she returns, that is a Dynasty-scale showdown brewing... I think I going to put on my Jennifer horror movie for some ideas.. I have on my get it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;gurl&lt;/span&gt; drawers, and I am ready to break out the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Vaseline&lt;/span&gt; and leave a fake nail in her face...I really need to practice that Tina Turner relaxation chant.. But that can happen later after paybacks...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-4235848610629904848?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/4235848610629904848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=4235848610629904848&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/4235848610629904848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/4235848610629904848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/04/almost-doesnt-count.html' title='Almost doesn&apos;t count....'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/SAXEpfb4N0I/AAAAAAAAAAo/80psJtFzz8c/s72-c/catfight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-6606104421875959972</id><published>2008-04-07T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:44.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Got 99 Problems, and this B***h Is One...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R_r_g-03WuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/hska8ugZISs/s1600-h/kernmedusar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186738862956174050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R_r_g-03WuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/hska8ugZISs/s320/kernmedusar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don't you just love Mondays?! Well  mine started off nice enough, with me taking and leisurely drive into work bopping along to some wonderful tunes I "liberated" (read; pilfered) from sister's lovely cache of 80's tunes. Just as I was pulling into my usual spot, THERE IT WAS!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Some donkey raping bastard had the nerve to park in my spot! I carefully maneuvered my vehicle around truckzilla, and made a careful inspection of some one's overcompensation for what he or she lacked. It was just purchased in Woodland Hills and I could still smell the smugness of the owner at having usurped my territory. When I went into to the office to inquire who parked in my parking space , I was informed by one of my faithful minions that the owner of the truck in question belonged to a woman co-worker I once considered a friend at work. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our friendship started innocently enough when she was hired on at our company  roughly two years ago, and I made the mistake of  trying to make her feel welcomed.  She was just out of grad school,   several years younger, and totally obsessed with my (nerdy) eye wear . As she tried to make herself comfortable at the office, she seemed to go out of her way to get my attention. Lunches, tearful confessions about her past, and invitations to her dinner parties, were numerous. As time went on,  I foolishly let down my guard and let her in on some of the pitfalls of  work,  and people to avoid  in our office, and one person in particular. It is common knowledge in my office that I am "fabulous", and  been in a longstanding feud with an over dramatic, closet queen who is known to frequent certain rest areas, for which I have secretly obtained photographic documentation in my arsenal for potential use at a later time. For a while it seemed as though it it were she and I against the office, but over the last 8 months things began to change. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For some unknown reason, I was unceremoniously dumped,  and she has begun a campaign to mess with my head and break me. As if I didn't already had enough with my ex and all the things going on with my "real friends", this hooker is trying to rub salt in my wounds, by parking in my reserved spot that I personally marked,  and has even went on to form a friendship with my work archenemy and sharing all my secrets. I know for most of you this seems like one of life's little annoyances, but for me, it is another indication of the passive aggressive crap she has perpetrated against me  that I have perfected in my on life . One thing  I can tell you for sure; this battle is far from over... Popular wisdom has it that "Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned". That poor sucker has no idea how that fury pales besides the fury of  a queen that has been scorned! I have the volume up on  Jagged Little Pill on my way home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To Be Continued.....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-6606104421875959972?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/6606104421875959972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=6606104421875959972&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6606104421875959972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6606104421875959972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/04/ive-got-99-problems-and-this-bh-is-one.html' title='I&apos;ve Got 99 Problems, and this B***h Is One...'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R_r_g-03WuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/hska8ugZISs/s72-c/kernmedusar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-1787810926314595452</id><published>2008-04-06T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:59:45.219-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friendship'/><title type='text'>WTF Weekend !</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R_kzTe03WtI/AAAAAAAAAAY/GghLxpC6o7E/s1600-h/hs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186232855679163090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R_kzTe03WtI/AAAAAAAAAAY/GghLxpC6o7E/s320/hs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With times like these, it is good to have your friends. It really broke my heart to see my best friend hurting so bad, and  all over a certain puffy shirt wearing, self absorbed,  quilt making individual that resembles said advertisement on the left. It seems that so many people are into sad little heart games with people, that fail to take into account the harm they do to the other people  besides the person on the receiving end of the drama. With his unthinking and uncaring actions, he has hurt  two people I care for a great deal and feels not the slightest  remorse.When I went out to breakfast with my friends, to the movies, and  out shopping and dancing, and  all our best efforts could not bring him out of his funk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There should be a special place in hell for people who delight in creating unnecessary drama, lying without a conscience, and playing the "victim". I wish there was some way  I could take away so much of the  hurt and pain you are going through, but I believe you are strong enough to handle anything that life can throw at you. I remember a conversation that we had  yesterday when you felt that you were  just like the person you were after your last soul-crushing breakup. I have to disagree with you on this one. At least this time, you had the courage to face your situation, (and not pull a b***h move like text your feelings on a cell phone), and you were able to hold on. All I can say is remember who you are, and that your friends are here.... Never forget that..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-1787810926314595452?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/1787810926314595452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=1787810926314595452&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/1787810926314595452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/1787810926314595452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/04/wtf-weekend.html' title='WTF Weekend !'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R_kzTe03WtI/AAAAAAAAAAY/GghLxpC6o7E/s72-c/hs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-6544893015492676704</id><published>2008-03-30T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T22:50:04.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It was the best of times....</title><content type='html'>I just got back from an interesting little road trip (i.e.: unwanted  thing for work), and come&lt;br /&gt;home to find my best friend hurting, and there is nothing I can do about it. I know that he is and&lt;br /&gt;grown man, and that he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but the very thought of&lt;br /&gt;him in such pain really brings out the "Mama Grizzly" in me.... We have been best friends for&lt;br /&gt;well over 12 years, and as far as I am concerned, he is  my family, and you just don't treat him that way!! We have cried, screamed, fought, and  laughed over just about everything in that time... I just hope he knows that I am here for him, and I will always have his back..no matter what.   Well, I have said my piece on this...On to my own personal melodrama...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was out on my gay outward bound, I made the crazy decision to stop by and see an ex of mine... Before the peanut gallery starts chiming in with: "Oh, I know you did him," and "Tramp", shut the f/u and listen to the rest of twisted little tale. I took care of the thing I needed to do for work, but whenever I am in Fresno/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tulare&lt;/span&gt; area, I get that inner need to pay him a visit. Call it a force of habit, contact high, or just plain nostalgia, I have to go by just to see if I had made the right decision in ending our little Affair to Remember. So many things were wrong this relationship; he could never fully coming out to his friends or even to himself, and he was extending this invitation for me to rent out space in this closet of his. And me being the young and restless fool that I was at the time, gladly accepted the invite. But not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;anymore&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came up on the house, everything was the eerily the same. The smell of his front yard, the sandalwood smell of his house, and that pungent scent of skin of sweat and aftershave that always made me pop a tent. But just before I gave in to the "Love Hangover" disco porno music playing in my head (I need medication for this), my mind did a replay of the last few years we spent together.  Being passed over so that he could take a "beard" to his high school reunion, sleeping in separate rooms (except when he the Hershey big block), so that people might not suspect, and being so embarrassed to claim me as his companion (sorry, not into whole idea of being called "Lover") when it truly would have a mattered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With those things in mind, the wood went away faster than Jessica Simpson's career, and I was able to maintain a detach distance while speaking to him. We enjoyed a nice conversation and reconnected about our shared history and how things have changed for the good and bad. We must have talked for a good three hours, but just as I was turning to leave he started in with the "Oh, you must be tired. You sleep here if you like. I promise I won't try anything." I have seen enough ABC &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Afterschool&lt;/span&gt; Specials and Lifetime (television for women (and gay men)  to see where this was going. It took some doing, but I was able to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Markie&lt;/span&gt; Post my way out the situation, and get back to my destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was driving down the road, I had another epiphany (the first of many to come, my imagined dear readers). It would have been so easy to give into the memory impressions and the history this guy represented. But at what cost?  Making the naked pretzel with him would have got the wheel spinning all over again with the demands that I drive up to see him, only to spend the evening with his neighbors doing our Sigfried and Roy drag, and another piece of me dying inside. I was right in ending the relationship, because my resentment would have only grown, and I truly would have hated him for it. I can take comfort in the fact that they we made some truly special memories together, and that he came into my life at a time that I needed to learn something from him. And then irony of ironies, Styx's "The Best of  Times" was blasting out of  my car stereo. Needless to say, I was pumping fist (not in the dirty sense, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;filthies&lt;/span&gt;!) and singing along, much to the dismay of my fellow drivers witnessing this event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I close with this little kernel of knowledge for my best friend that is hurting out there: These are the best of times. You have your friends, your health, and your life. Everything else is negotiable. Although it seems like your heart is on the floor, there are so many people that are willing and able to stand with you through the fire, and all the drama that is sure to follow.  Long live Hellfire!......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-6544893015492676704?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/6544893015492676704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=6544893015492676704&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6544893015492676704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/6544893015492676704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/03/it-was-best-of-times.html' title='It was the best of times....'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809954139483317286.post-3673277305036716582</id><published>2008-03-28T20:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T20:44:55.147-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Welcome</title><content type='html'>Welcome to my blog&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5809954139483317286-3673277305036716582?l=blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/feeds/3673277305036716582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5809954139483317286&amp;postID=3673277305036716582&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/3673277305036716582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5809954139483317286/posts/default/3673277305036716582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackqueenslogic.blogspot.com/2008/03/welcome.html' title='Welcome'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10016745385977484158</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_s0EwtLJII3E/R-26Ru03WrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/0FdB4MZdx14/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
