I've gone Gay...for Jay.

Don't know if y'all read Shakesville, but you should. Specifically this post, wherein Melissa McEwan solicits Shakesreaders for their Gayest pictures...to bestow upon the dearest Jay Leno, Douchebaggious Maximus.

Here's my contribution. I made sure to hold my Mac at the right angle to avoid showing the drops of soy sauce from my Chinese food dinner. Gay people aren't messy, folks.


ETA: Hahahaha. Sorry, Mom.

And they were lined with gold...

FIRSTLY, I changed my feed back to full syndication. There was only one voice of petulance, so I figured that I might as well make my one (ok, three) reader(s) happy. If there are other readers, well GOLLY GEE, I didn't know you were there. Speak up once in a while, folks!

click the image to go to the Crocs.com listing

IN OTHER NEWS, my sweetie bought me a pair of Crocs Celeste shoes last night and I'm in Foot Heaven. These things are the bounciest, most supportive, funkiest shoes I've owned in long long time. I did not get any of the colors shown above...rather, I picked up a sexy drabby chocolate. Crocs have once again wowed me with their wonderousity. And to all the Crocs Haters...may you be blessed with bunions and smooshed toes.

Coming soon to this here blog: Posts about wineware, barware and ideas for Mother's Day (in advance...go me!).

I don't Gocco, so back off!

Gocco is this ridiculous craze of which I long to be a part. But I just can't seem to manage justifying the purchase quite yet, mostly because I hear it's addictive and expensive once you start hoarding [err, I mean accumulating] supplies. So instead I give you a fun assortment of Gocco'd greeting cards, prints and other things available on Etsy and elsewhere.

I'm hoping that this whole "sharing is caring" thing will pay off, and one of ma betches will buy me a Gocco printer for my birthday (which is, incidentally, August 4th). *hands you a datebook*

We'll start with my favorite, from a dear GENIUS friend of mine (click the images for direct links to the products!).

Congratulations on Your New Vibrator card - $4 at noveltykitten.com

Epic Do Gocco Print - $15 at ArgyleWhale

Ride On... Card - $2.50 at twoguitars

Studly Man Moustache Card - $3.25 at Squeedles

Marshmallow on Fire card - $3.50 at amyb13

Magic Jellies card - $4.50 at magicjelly

Libraries Make Me... 5 cards/pockets set - $7 at papermenagerie

So GO FORTH and [buy me a] Gocco!

Just a little bit of deliciousness.

Enough with the humdrum, fools! It's time to eat!

I made this for a family event during the Christmas of 2006 and everyone loved it. Naturally, because it's sausage, cheese, sauce and in a dippable format, I was in love.

Sausage Pizza Dip - Rachael Ray (hate all you want, sometimes she makes some G-O-O-D shit)

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil (EVOO)
2/3 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
3/4 pound bulk Italian sweet or hot sausage
Half an onion, finely chopped
2 pinches dried oregano
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 cup tomato sauce
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 cup (about 4 1/4 ounces) shredded scamorza or mozzarella cheese
2/3 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1 loaf sesame semolina bread, sliced

1. In a medium skillet, heat the EVOO, 1 turn of the pan, over medium-high heat. Cook the sausage, breaking it up into little bits with a wooden spoon, until browned. Drain off all but a few tablespoons of fat from the sausage. Reduce the heat to medium, push the sausage to the sides of the pan, add the onion and garlic to the center and cook until tender, 6 to 8 minutes. Mix into the sausage and remove the pan from the heat.

2. Preheat the broiler with the rack set 8 to 10 inches away from the heat. Combine the cream cheese with half the scamorza and half the Parmigiano-Reggiano. Stir in the oregano and then fold the sausage into the combined cheeses. Spread the mixture into a casserole. Top with the tomato sauce and the remaining cheese. Cover with foil and broil for 2 minutes, then uncover and broil until bubbling, about 5 minutes. Serve with the semolina bread.

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One day I hope to have Photoshop or something of the sort on my computer, and I'll make my own little recipe cards with checkerboard edges and a rooster or whatever. Then I'll .pdf the image and link y'all to it. One day. Don't hold yer breath.

Drawing on my fine command of the language, I said nothing.

This week has been, in many ways, a test of spirit. There have been numerous challenges to face that I've been able to avoid over the last year. I consider this due to, in no small part, my reemergence into things social. I've started giving my time to events, people and things with which I have not been acquainted in some time. And that's GOOD because I love being social. In many ways, being part of a greater community feeds and satisfies a very specific part of my nature. But also, as with most things (and as with most things GAY), there is a certain amount of frustration with being more social. To insulate oneself is to effectively shield oneself from the baggage, stress and drama rampant in the queer community. It's very easy to pretend like you aren't a cause or culprit, but I think that over the years I've made it clear to myself and the queer world that I am both a part of and avoidant of things like drama and baggage. We're all stopping, starting and greasing the gears of this big machine. I am honest about my part in it all.

Rather than hashing out specific situations or events that have occurred this week with which I have had beef, I'm going to list a few attributes that have presented themselves instead...out of happenstance or necessity, and a quote to complement them. I hope this will help bring some clarity to my exposure to the Big Bad Queer World in the coming weeks and months, and also drive home some really important things for everyone to remember when communicating with people who have little interest in your baggage or your agenda.

Graciousness - “To bear defeat with dignity, to accept criticism with poise, to receive honors with humility -- these are marks of maturity and graciousness.” - William Arthur Ward

Integrity - "Integrity is not a 90 percent thing, not a 95 percent thing; either you have it or you don't." Peter Scotese
I would like to add that in my experience, the people striving to place emphasis or value on their level of integrity are often the people most lacking the virtue.

Perception – “We don't see things as they are. We see them as we are.” - Anais Nin

Assumption - “Every issue, belief, attitude or assumption is precisely the issue that stands between you and your relationship to another human being; and between you and yourself.” – Unknown

Pride - “Temper gets you into trouble. Pride keeps you there.” – Unknown

Faith - "Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

Honesty/Truth - "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything." - Mark Twain

I was a Girl Scout for eight years. And I have a mother who reminds me with fervent regularity about the Golden Rule. Treat others in the manner that you would want to be treated...always. Waiver from this and you'll find yourself grasping for steadiness in a world gone terribly unsteady.

Oh, and Happy Easter.

Easter.

I can say with most fervent certainty that I don't really care about Easter. Ok, yes, as someone who is re-exploring her Catholicism and also serving as her BFF's confirmation sponsor on Easter Eve, you would think that I would be in the throes of celebrating our Lord's accession into the himmelsphere. But I don't really care. I don't really look back on Easter time with fond or negative memories, really. Recalling that I was a bit of a girly girl makes me think that I enjoyed the dresses and hats and things. I feel comfortable saying I even enjoyed Easter egg hunts and I know for certain that I enjoyed jelly beans. My grandfather taught me at a young age to snatch up all the black jelly beans because they were the best. And they are. Without a frickin' doubt. And I still look forward to the "Easter season" as an adult, for the most part, because it means that Cadbury Mini Eggs will be available. YUM.

But my connection to Jesus and all that Christian mysticism is really lacking, so sometimes I forget about Easter all together, or sometimes I ignore it, or sometimes I protest it. Either way, I don't really ever enjoy Easter in the spirit it was intended...candy-fest or otherwise.

Until today.

Behold the delectable joy of the Bunny Cake!


Happy Easter, folks. :-)

Things I Want.

Listen people. I've got nothin'. I had a busy-as-heck weekend, a headache of mammoth proportions on Monday, and I'm back among the living trying to do a million things including lunch, planning, and figuring out why none of my pants fit right anymore (apparently, contrary to the standard reactions to Prednisone, I've LOST weight). This is a lot for one lady to handle, ok?

So rather than deluging you with my latest project (there is one, natch) or some fantastic domestic idea, I'm going to give you one of my lists. In this case, it's stuff I want...for you to buy me? Well, only if you wanna.

Vintage red cake tin - it's repro but it's HOT.
$36.95 at Kitchen Krafts.com
(BTW...anything else in that line of red enamel would be great, thx.)


Cushman's Honeybells. They're out of season, but jot it down and get me some later!
Various packages ranging from $19.99 - $76.99 at honeybell.com


Don't lie about your size, DEFY IT. God, I love stealing make up slogans!
Ginormous Elf t-shirt. Teh sexay.
$20 at 80stees.com


Soaps from Savor on Etsy. God, her stuff looks delectable and edible.
You know it's bad when I want to eat soap.
Varies in price, between $3.50 - $12 at Etsy.com


Milk and Bread pendant by Melanie Favreau on Etsy.
BRILL.
$38 on Etsy.com


Mechanical Bull.
At my birthday party, or something.
I have no idea how much it costs, but you can rent it locally!

HOLY CRAP!

Attention please!

Have you ever been alone or with other folks and pondered some seriously wacky questions? The kind of stuff that would raise a quizzical brow were you not in the company of people who truly love and tolerate your tomfoolery.  Questions like:

• Why is blue cheese so gross? (this may be an experience exclusive to me)
• How do birds fly but not penguins?
• Why is gummi candy so freakin' delicious?
• How do I get my boyfriend to stop drooling on my pillow?

All of these questions and more can now be answered! My best Bucko and I have started a Q&A blog over at:

www.raisingabuckus.com

Please check it out and e-mail us with your questions: bucko@raisingabuckus.com

Love and [dis]order,

The Gay Housewife

Random Tip of the Day

My Bucko shared a blog feed with me today about cleaning baseboards and I remembered this fantastic tip I discovered a few weeks ago!

My mother was neurotic about making sure every inch of a space was clean, and her litmus test for quality cleaning was the baseboards.  So now, in true pass-on-the-crazy fashion, I notice baseboards when I'm in the process of cleaning my place.

The trick, and a great way to reuse and recycle: DRYER SHEETS

Take an empty tissue box and stuff your dryer sheets into it when they come out of the dryer after a load of wash.  When you need to dust a baseboard, simply grab a dryer sheet and sweep it along!  The dust adheres to the static cling element contained within most dryer sheets, and because they've been "dried", the sheets are a little softer.  Couple that with the delicious scent of dryer sheets, my odor of choice, and you've got a simple, FREE cleaning solution.  You can even use them to dust most tables, televisions, and other things that collect dust in your home.

Off to candy selling, y'all.  If you're in the DC/Baltimore area, I suggest you high-tail it to Rock Candy on Harford Road for their grand opening, block party celebration.

Love and cleanliness,

The Gay Housewife

I told you I made earrings.

Here are some new ideas coming from my creative self...and soon into my Shop! I'm kind of obsessed with vintage glass, especially colors that are reminiscent of "milk glass" with that opaque, creamy quality. I've also developed a penchant for funky BIG vintage plastic/acrylic/lucite beads (specifically those featured in Torpedo). I don't really know how jewelry designers go about developing designs for "seasons" or new lines. I tend to sit at my little crafting station, pull out beads that I think look good together and work with wire and other materials (in this case, delicate sterling chain) to make something I enjoy. And honestly, that's why I do it.

Strand earrings.

Dewberry earrings.

Derby earrings.

Corioli earrings.

Torpedo earrings.

Just call me Ginger Nash, of 12th St. NE

My BFF is obsessed with Niecy Nash, host of Style Network's Clean House.

** Please excuse this interruption: OMG. Don't Google Niecy Nash at work, because the first three pictures that come up feature some images of her bare ass...and as delectable as it may be, your boss might get the wrong idea. Now back to the news. **

So sometimes I like to pretend I'm on a show like Clean House, or Clean Sweep, or any of the other myriad of shows dedicated to organizing the lives of everyday people. I wouldn't go so far as to say my organizational tips can do any more than make your mind a little less frazzled, by the way. The suggestion that you can organize yourself out of fatness is a ludicrous to me, as are the suggestions that it will immediately make you less of a pack rat/hoarder (which requires some serious psychotherapy, to be frank). But I do, now and then, dabble in the very humble art of organization. And I do it well, I've been told.

During these times, when I most closely resemble a whirling dervish, I call myself Ginger Nash and I get shit done. Today I woke up with boundless energy and began by pulling every article of clothing out of my room that needed to be washed, began laundry, made myself breakfast and some tea, organized my bead stash for about two hours into color groups (yum!), cleaned up my nightstand (read: asthma and hive meds up the wazoo), my craft storage area, continued doing laundry, and then reorganized E's side of the room to accommodate clothing and other things that had sort of dribbled out of the closet and into something more closely resembling Mt. Rushmore. I'm not judging you, honey! Just using this as an example. *muah*

Then I was able to hang two pictures I'd been longing to hang, stored scarves and hats because it doesn't really feel like winter anymore, sorted through more clothes for donations (at this point in time, we have a combined total of 11 bags ready for donation! Yay!), took care of the newly sniffly and not-great feeling E and then sat down to make a few pair of earrings. Pictures tomorrow, when the sun is claiming to be more consistent. All in all, a very productive day and a day that made me feel absolutely fantastic.

I realized, when considering my great day at what is now the end of it, that many folks have suggested that I should go into personal organizing...that I should start up some home business and meet customers and provide consultations and suggestions for organization, or even just do it myself. That sounds fantastic, but just like my crafting, I'm a little too homegrown and organic for something like that. I have this feeling that people will want me to bring in shelving units and that awful wire-basketry from IKEA and closet organizers and folders and buckets and so on. And while that would be fun, in a way, I can't say that's what I practice...so why preach it?

If you walk in my bedroom right now, you'll find an old sturdy IKEA shelve holding my open-to-full-view neatly folded piles of clothing, my shoes haphazardly thrown in a basket, a generic white laundry basket on the floor, mismatched furniture, and a too-small closet that has not been renovated to accommodate more. And I'm totally ok with that. It feels like home, it feels comfortable and it's functional. Sure, we could get wardrobes or shelves to hide it all or make it more visually appealing, but that's a lot of money wasted. The bedroom is neat and tidy. Period.

After considering this for a while, and talking to my BFF after overhauling her closet a few weeks ago, I've decided that if you've got a lot of random stuff in your house like a dresser, a pole, some string, a basket and maybe a few milk crates...I can organize your crap like a professional. Anything more than that, I just can't get behind. I also feel that this is the responsible way to organize. Yes, it doesn't always look cohesive or perfect, but you're using by reusing and finding inexpensive or even free alternatives to the mainstream dilemma: If I can't conceive of how to fix it right now, I'll just go out and BUY a solution.

So I suggest you sit in front of your closet one day, consider how it's working for you, pull out some random supplies and get creative. If you need help, call me and I'll sit there with you. And we can all jump on my bandwagon of using the DIY Use What You've Got MacGyver Technique to keeping our homes, and minds, organized.

Signing off,
Ginger Nash

Thing you should know.

1. Your bar isn't fully stocked unless it has a few cans of R.W. Knudsen's Cranberry Spritzer on the shelf. Damn. This stuff would be The Deliciousness with vodka. I love things that spritz.

2. Fevers of 100.8+ are seriously righteous. While I cannot remember a single thing about Wednesday, I can tell you that internally boiling does bring about some serious neurological constellations of color and brilliance. Sadly, with the antibiotics and steroids I'm on now, it'll be bland city for a while. Dammit.

3. I have a new crush on Shannon McNally. She's raspy and delicious.

4. I've been able to change out of my convalescing wardrobe long enough to get my butt to Phase One, where I've sort of fenagled my way onto the planning committee for PhaseFest 2008. I had the highest hopes for myself this week, between contacting sponsors and planning a big ol' queer sexy party, but with the Plague of '08, it didn't all happen. Here's to a productive weekend of planning, organization, and maybe a few phone calls. Pray that I'm wearing my sweet and saleswomanly voice.

Have a good weekend, people. I'll be more domestically queer next week, when the world starts to spin with busy-ness and obligation. Get yerselves some rest in the meantime.

For God so loved the world, that He gave us some really brilliant architects.

Like I said in my previous post about the hives, I was able to visit my parents in Arizona for a brief spell and I had the great pleasure of escaping the pseudo-suburban golfing wonderland for the [once]-natural and serene landscape of Sedona. Sedona is about 120 miles outside of Phoenix, and it boasts fantastic lung-tickling elevation, lovely natural scenery, and some of the most stunning rock formations known to humankind.

My mother and I kept debating what would be the most fun. I can't say that I'm a fan of wander-shopping, that wonderful type of shopping where you literally walk in circles and buy a whole bunch of crap you don't need, so I suggested we just drive around to see what was out there and then stop when we wanted to stop. My mother remembered a chapel she visited with friends during a trip to Sedona a few months ago, and I said it would be delightful to visit.

Some of you may or may not know (to be honest, I have no idea who reads my journal beyond my small handful of close buddies, my partner and my brother), I was raised Catholic. Not Catholic in the my-parents-had-a-million-babies sense, or in the abortion clinic protesting sense, or even in the remotely committed sense. I went to Catholic school in Kindergarten, 2nd-5th grade. After that I attempted CCD when I was in public school, but decided to check myself out of that hot mess in 6th grade. I grew up going to church out of routine and requirement, never understanding that it was a choice or could even be one, and often resenting the patriarchal and misogynist teachings of the church (specifically Father O'Brien, ahem). Figuring all of this out at a relatively young age didn't come with as much preciseness or clarity as just typed out. The long and short of it is that I basically told my parents that I didn't want to do it any more. And being the Franciscans they didn't realize they were being, they said, "Ok, sure. No worries. Come back to it if you wanna." And for many, MANY years I've avoided it like the plague.

So, I'm back to let you know...that I'm really shaking down my relationship with God and Catholicism. I also have the blessed opportunity to grow in my faith vis-a-vis a responsibility I've recently been requested to perform. Angela is being confirmed soon at St. Sebastian's in Baltimore and I'm her confirmation sponsor. Being a CCD dropout, I was never confirmed. And I was actually kind of glad I never went through the motions of it because it does mean that you are indeed confirming your faith and, for lack of a better way to describe it, an ethereal Salute to the Chief saying that you'll be a good person, a good Catholic, and committed to growing and sharing within the faith (notice I never say Church...because I don't believe in that shit). So coming back and saying Hello to God, in the context of being someone's sponsor, is a very interesting experience.

Back to Sedona. My mother and I drive up to the chapel, which is swarmed by hundreds of tourists looking for great views and a cool place to socialize. I should not be allowed in churches for this very reason. Despite my objection to the four-walled place of worship, I have some very strict rules about being in God's house and one of them is SHUT YER MOUTH. Non-Catholics must not get it. My mom and I walked up the hill to the chapel and I was kind of overcome by it. Was it the most beautiful thing I've ever seen? No, probably not. But I was moved by its placement, it's relationship with the natural ruddy landscape, and with the peacefulness and solitude it must've generated when it was first constructed so many years ago. It made me like a Church-like building in the context of God and Church for the first time in a long while.

My mother and I walked inside, made our way to the pew, genuflected and sat down for a prayer. We then walked to the far right wall where candles were flickering in honor and homage to loved ones here and gone. My mother and I lit our candles, hers for her mother (Nanny) and mine for my mother...and one for my soon-to-be-confirmed BFF. I even took a picture.

So I bring this post back to the blog and wonder how do God and Catholicism really connect to my version of queering domesticity. I have to say it's very simple. What I seek to do in my life is everything My Way, and within the context of doing it my way, I still pay homage to my roots and the person I believe I should be. The person I am and believe I should be is someone who appreciates and honors things I've been tentative about, even when it seems too overwhelming challenging for me to do so. Being queer and believing in God is difficult, but when you see a ruddy, natural, complicated landscape like the rocks in Sedona, and then a perfect, angular, faithful chapel nestled in between...securely...you realize that you can let things like faith in and they fit very nicely in your big queer (sometimes ruddy and rocky) heart.