Oprah = Bawling

I originally sat down at the computer mid-Oprah Winfrey Show (now called just Oprah) to slag her. Just a little. Yesterday was a repeat of her "20th Anniversary Follow Up Show" and I was annoyed at how disconnected she now is from people. She is a freaking BILLIONAIRE. I mean at one point she wished some guests "Happy Family!!!" Um...haven't you been broadcasting for 20+ years? Then don't talk like I would if forced to host a talk show. I'd be wishing people "Good LIFE to you!" It was funny. But then in the next segment she showed this guy who had lost 300 lbs. and she talked about how when their eyes met and he thanked her, she felt it in her soul. And I was bawling. You know that cry you do when you're body is shaking violently but you make no noise and you're not even breathing? Yeah it was like that. And it's so ridiculous, I know, but to feel that validation of your existence. God. She is a force of nature. Work, Oprah!

Quite Possibly the Greatest Blog Post Ever

...For fans of Reality Tv/Friendster/Gay Dating Culture (are there fans of that last one?). But I digress. I don't know this man, but if I ever live/visit Los Angeles (again) I will desperately search him out every time I'm in West Hollywood. I myself actually met "Sven's" pseudo-life partner "Bif" in Provincetown 2 years ago and so feel a deep and personal connection to this story. But whilst "Sven" is basically everything you'd expect (and more), "Bif" just kept asking me if I thought his date was "hott" (i.e. "Is he hot enough for ME?") Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

My Favorite

And BIG shout outs to Sarah. Get Well Soon Miss Woodhouse! Love Always, Harriet Smith.

Everyday Women. Reinventing Their Lives.

Today I want to talk about a TV obsession of mine. And that obsession is "Starting Over" (SO).

SO is quite possibly a show made just for me. I mean, televised therapy? Televised? How, in any way could this possibly be taken seriously? And yet, I absolutely believe in it and think I should move into the house with the girls. I want Rhonda to confront my childhood demons and Dr. Stan to set me straight but more than anything, I want Iyanla to be my Life Coach.

Because when she told my favorite SOG (Starting Over Girl) Jill that she single-handedly dismantled the stereotyoes of African-American women, I bawled. Actually, I cried through the entire episode of Jill's graduation (When you're cured, they graduate you in a way-cheesy ceremony). I wanted to dismantle sterotypes! I wanted to face that which is holding me back! Release my anger! See myself as I am! I am a strong confident women worthy of Love!

And Jill, girl. I am rooting for you out there in big, bad L.A. I'm gonna leave you with my ultimate seal of approval: WORK JILL!

I'm Miss Bates.

This is me today:

Poor and unmarried. I hope you all remember this when you're in your big Highbury homes and remember to take pity on me. Just remember I'm quite prideful and will take any digs at my personality very, very harshly.

Allright, let's get down to brass tax. I'm here now, let's do this.

So, first and foremost I suppose I should tell you all about what has been consuming my brain since Saturday. Of course it's a boy ("mrs. walker, it's a boy"). No seriously, I am at a loss at the moment. Maybe y'all can help.

So, Let me set the scene: Club Cafe, 2006. A Young man walks outside with his friends (dressed impeccably in a brown suede blazer and dark denims). He spots a boy who made a "funny" comment earlier. Well, here's the thing, he commented on my back brace. See, (god- gay stories get so overly complicated) I was talking to this other guy Matt(who was too good-looking and pulled together for me) and said I had broken my back, when this dude and his gurl walked by and shout "Oh My God You Broke Your Back!!!!" Well I was mortified. I did that thing I tend to do where I get all red and my voice gets high (well, even higher) and embarassed. He immediately says he's kidding smooths it over and leaves. Whatever. I keep talking to Matt who clearly is not that nice. Time passes and I leave the bar. Outside as we're leaving, my friends are saying goodbye to people (they know like every third person in there- love that; makes me feel popular by association) and I spot "Brokeback Comment" Boy. So I approach to introduce and we find out we have the same name. Anyways he's an optometry student and my friends works at his school and he lives outside of Boston. All interesting things. So I said "Oh we should have lunch". This is the sort of thing I just say to people. It's not that I don't mean it- It's just my way of saying "We should hang out- time & date TBD". Such is not the way works and so my dear Andy asks me to take my number.

So on Tuesday when I call, He claims to not remember me. Well a vague rememberance which is fine. No one knows that game like me. I have woken up on the morning after with phone numbers of people I have no recollections of. People have come up to me in the street with knowledge of my whole family and I have no idea who they are. What I'm saying is, I'm a big drunk too. Work it out. Do your thing. So anyways we get to chatting, and inevitably we get off the telephone and go to IM. Which is OK at first because my cell phone sucks. But you know the drill, you sing on and get 16 IMs from old friends. And for a poor typer like me, it is just overwhelming. So, we become friends on Friendster and Myspace. All cool. But I am not IMing well, and I don't know. I suddenly get intimidated by him. I think pictures on Internet friend/date websites speak volumes. I have 3. And they're mostly of me and Miss Sarah. But he's got all good-looking friends and he's basically in Medical School. And the crazy thing is, I was not even interested- I thought oh, a fun new friend. But I think, ultimately this post is too long and I don't want to go on.

Let's just say this: My game's so tight my back can be broken and I still got it.

is this WORKing?

Am I figuring this out? Why is this so GD hard for me?

I wanna cry.

Holla!

How does this work?