Marry Me, Eugene!

I guess I have to admit it. . .

I've been in a bit of a slump. Doctor Who is over for the season. I just finished running rough-shod over season one and two of Torchwood like a Weevil on the loose in downtown Cardiff, and as much as I'm enjoying Swingtown, there's no Captain Jack Harkness making out with Ianto at the pool party, so . . . SIGH. . . And LORDY, I just heard Luke Wilson call Doctor Who an OBSCURE show from Great Britain. Obscure, Luke? WTF, hon? Duel at Dawn, you cur. And you know, "cur" is a kind word, considering its definition according to the OED is, "aggressive mongrel dog." UGH! Still love you, Luke. . .

ANYWAY.

Last night this band of performers Ed Sullivaned me, which definitely lifted my sallow spirits. Gogol Bordello-- saw them on Conan. I've been tracking Gogol Bordello for a few years, through the wilds of NPR interviews across the You Tube tundra, in Liev Schreiber's film version of Everything Is Illuminated, adapted from the Jonathan Safran Foer novel of the same name. I've heard the band sound better, but you can't beat the energy, the chaos, pent-up passions unleashed with the flick of the accordion player's wrist. Lead artist Eugene Hutz's skinny little ass makes me swoon. Marry Me, Eugene! I have a red glitter-frame photograph of him which I was indeed clutching last night, as I watched the band perform on my crappy little TV. When I finally get married, and hell, even if I don't I can only hope to have a party that sounds like Start Wearing Purple complete with matching Slivovitza and Jameson fountains bubbling booze, an obscene number of accordions, at least one Tuba to play sound effects each time someone hits the deck, perhaps a live bear or something (kidding) and a few wild dogs with beautiful brown, mascara-ed looking eyes, barking on the other side of the fence, howling to get in.

Want to see what I'll be wearing?

idea2lifestyle

Gorgeous, modern-medieval and flowing. A clear indication to the groom that he's getting the dark with the light. Idea2Lifestyle, based in Shanghai, is a collective of artists who create high-quality wearable works of art that leap out of their etsy store right into your mind. I want to dye my dreads, kiss a stranger, and run barefoot through a field in Gallifrey.

Wait, there's more:

This is what I'll be wearing on the honeymoon in Eastern Europe as we weave our way by train to Poland, Ukraine, doubling back west to Hungary and then a non-stop flight to Barcelona. I heart Barcelona. I have it all planned, apparently. All I need is the man. Screw it-- I'll go anyway.

Love this top. Reminds me of a blouse I BEGGED my mom to put on lay-away for me, from The Limited back in the 80s. I was into the asymmetrical look back then. My top was mustard-colored, and I distinctly remember being laughed at by the popular high school girls. I was ahead of my time, obviously. Taking my cues from episodes of Square Pegs. Now that I'm MUCH older, and I have trouble buttoning my tops correctly, so here's a lovely compromise. This blood-red delight of a shirt makes "offset" very sexy. Comes in with, black, and grey. This blouse is called, "Missing you IN Red." Yes, indeed.

All right, all right. . . I think I'm back. I'll start some kind of countdown to Doctor Who, or something. Maybe start a Torchwood satellite office. This is a cry for HELP. Are there any support groups out there for my little problem?

May Day! May Day!

May 1st is recognized all over the world as International Worker's Day, and you don't have to be a Communist to celebrate the struggle of the worker, sisters and brothers!

To mark the day, I strapped on my accordion (yes, I play the accordion-- you wanna start something with me, buddy?) and played one verse of The Internationale. Call me a RED, but I LOVE that song-- gives me chills every time I hear it. May 1st is the only day I can FEEL the the beating heart of the underdog, the underpaid, and the underemployed-- I fit that category myself.

I also revisted one of the best films I've ever seen about the plight of the modern worker, Salt of the Earth. The 1954 film is based on the real strike against the Empire Zinc Mine in New Mexico, and the acts of prejudice against the Mexican-American workers therein. The movie was BANNED by the US Government, no wonder most of us have never heard of it.



Before I get my step ladder out to climb up on my soapbox, SIGH. I better. . . shop.


57thirtythree


Oakland! My People! Somewhere between San Francisco and Berkeley is the REAL DEAL, 'yall. 57thirtythree makes silkscreened and embroidered hoodies and tees in the heart of Oakland--gritty-fabulous, dirty, sexy, GUTSY, beautiful, Oakland. Don't fret, my green brothers and sisters, 57thirtythree is all about the carbon footprint-- solvent-free, water-based paints and inks printed on sweatshop free tees. 57thirtythree says, "We use images of people who were originals or broke through some pre-existing barrier of stereotype." I'm all for that!



Anna MAY Wong can't be wrong!


And, 57thirtythree knows where it stands, and ain't scert to tell you:





"There is not a liberal America and a conservative America - there is the United States of America. There is not a black America and a white America and latino America and asian America - there's the United States of America."
---Barack Obama.

Ohhh. . . I feel that right in the middle of my superdelegates.

No matter what happens, a change gone come.